14 THE}. A.U DU BO°N 2BiO DE ieee 
ence has never been yours, Unfortunate Person, there is no use trying to 
tell what a shock it gives the senses. Such pink and white perfection is 
not: to be put.onipaper, *)> = 
Talking about birds: a pompous robin and his wife have selected a 
Bartlett pear tree for their home, not more than twenty feet from my 
door, where their family life is in daily sight. Just beneath my kitchen 
window on the elbow of a wild grape vine—a very old one—another robin 
couple have established themselves. They could not get accident insurance 
on this house, as it would be easy prey for cats and boys. Is it only fancy, 
or do the robins think our proximity insures their safety? The mother, at 
any rate, is used to the sound of my voice, for I talk to her when she is 
near and she looks intelligent even if silent. She laid her foundation, put 
up the walls and plastered them, fitting the cup-like home to her own round 
breast with the freedom of one who has nothing to conceal. With two hands, 
some brains and plenty of time, I doubt if I could duplicate the little home 
she built with only her inflexible one-jointed bill. No strikes, no delays, no 
walking delegates and no wasted materials. Foes and food occupy the 
minds of these feathered friends. Both are plentiful. The attentive mate, 
between trips on household matters, sits on a nearby branch and flies out 
fiercely at every bird that innocently passes through his aerial front 
yard. * * * * 
Over the shrilly sweet notes of the bluebird, the trilling of the song 
sparrow, the confidence of the catbird and the gay ‘‘kwonk-o-ree” of the 
red-winged blackbird, comes the cheerful ‘‘cheerup” of the cardinal. It is 
liquid with joy. A pair is nesting here for the third year and when the 
saucy top-knotted bird lights in the pale branches of the beech in the 
ravine, it is like a flame. How anyone can cage the ringing song of this 
free creature is more than I can understand. His cheerful “cheerup”’ alone 
ought to secure his freedom. 
Only birds may be hilarious in the woods without irreverence. Even 
the chatter of squirrels is not out of harmony with the rustling leaves and 
the cadence of the wind. But the human visitor should enter discreetly with 
gentle step in the spirit of the wild. There is something in the brooding 
silence, the subdued light, the echo through leafy arches, that suggests a 
cathedral, and I would as soon think of shouting during the organ prelude 
as to interrupt the bird choir of the quiet woods. It invites the thoughtful 
introspective mind. * * * * 
Motionless, with suspended oars, and carried by the current, I once 
came within a few feet of a great blue heron that stood like a chieftain on 
the end of a log projecting over the river. I saw his eyes plainly before 
he rose grandly in the air and alighted a short distance beyond. Here he 
again watched my approach in dignified silence and a third time repeated 
his flight. As nothing happened, he turned his back and waded into the 
river, whence a minute later he arose with a fish several inches long in 
S001 ee aa coe 
On a mere twig of an elderberry bush two feet from my immovable 
head, sits as delicately as a slender bud the ruby-throated hummingbird 
and preens his feathers after a long feast emptying the chalices of the 
