MY HEART 'S IN THE HIGHLANDS . 165 
The golden-crested kinglets were present in 
great numbers on the same 13th of October, 
1889, and as they passed through the evergreens 
they accomplished a marvelous amount of effec¬ 
tive house-cleaning. With them or near them 
chickadees, red nuthatches, white nuthatches, 
and brown creepers took part in the keen in¬ 
spection of the trees, and woe came to the in¬ 
sect which fell under their eyes. 
Among the other birds which I recorded that 
day were robins, a hermit thrush, bluebirds, 
yellow-rumped warblers, solitary vireos, a flock 
of thirty-five goldfinches, a good many sparrows 
of various kinds, blue jays, one or two kinds of 
woodpeckers, several hawks, and a flock of black 
ducks. They formed the rear guard of the 
grand army, and as the leaves rustled down over 
them it was easy to imagine snowflakes gather¬ 
ing in the northern clouds and waiting for a 
summons to begin their soft descent upon the 
abandoned earth. 
Bird voices sometimes mingle with the hum 
and roar of my duty-wheel. Opposite my office 
window are two tall pine-trees, almost the only 
evergreens in the college yard. These trees 
swarm with the alien sparrows, whose clamor at 
times is almost deafening. Better three months 
of utter silence than such bird music as this. 
Each year, as autumn deepens into winter, I 
