A DAY IN JUNE 
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have a double portion of the delights of existence* 
The song of the Veery, the churning, dashing, burst- 
ing melody that reveals a spontaneous gladness, is 
still heard among the leafy shades* Much has been 
said and written of the Veery's song, but only to 
reveal the poverty of words in its description* It is a 
part of the gladness of nature, to be absorbed and 
enjoyed in its own spirit* Other songsters, with their 
own peculiar charms, are still carrying the spirit of 
spring on into summer* Perhaps that is the mission 
of all songsters* The Yellow Warbler still sings as 
happily as in the days of his courtship, and his note 
has a distinctness lent by the silence of so many of 
his feathered relatives* The Oven Bird's penetrating 
repetitions come along under the branches, and the 
Brown Thrasher still sings to the sun from a lofty 
perch* There is just enough melody through the 
shady branches to make their quietness more 
somnolent* 
A glimpse of yellow and white shows where a 
Flicker curves and undulates through the open spaces 
to the broken shaft of an old, dead Willow* The 
brown-grey back, almost invisible against the bark, 
disappears, and after a long, patient wait, with no 
sign of the alert head on the other side, the temptation 
becomes irresistible* There is a nest* Just below the 
broken limb a hole has been picked in the decaying 
wood, but it is a false one* One would like to think it 
