Norwich bulletin., 1918-08-31

this year, and nearly every tree has a | visiting summer yel!owbird or two who | seem to prefer the more open hunting | Of the apple trees to their own thickets over the wall. It was while l was looking into one of the deserted nests that was visited by four sorts of birds; all sew me, 1 think, yet none seemed to fear the stranger in the tree tops. who had scarcely stepped climb ing before they began to arrive. Fifst a pair of yellow warblers canne--he so near that I could have counted the ruddy stripes on his breast; then a
 slim, shy, busy tree sparrow, not halL
 so trusting, but not to be confonnoed either; next small, crested stranger.
 bringing with him caterpillar, and staying only long enough to eat 1t as
 an Italian eats macaroni. Last of all,
 coming as the others went. with
 flutter of orange scarlet, pair Of tiny
 redstarts lighted and were gone again.
 The fedstart Is the least timid bird
 I know. A pair of them, with attendant friends, came repeatedly to feed
 gray green youngster of theirs who was making his debut. even while walked about the tree on which they had got him to settle, a few feet above the
 ground How they did this, do not know; when I first saw him, he was trying pluekily, but unsuccessfnlly. to climb a slantins gray birch trunk his claws scratching against the bark his tiny postage stamp wings beating vainly. Whether he survived the fre- duent feeding I do not know l feel sure his mother could never have aff-
 orded to feed the others as She did him.
 The parent birds seemed no more afraid iof me than he did,
 | Along the lakes shore, in canoe, l Vna tF hannin0 hfTdH 1 that fed among the hirches and alders
 -warblers mostly. and always as they
 hunted among the roots and on the
 sand, I saw a chiprnunk following | them, quietly, without hurry or ap- l parent malice, never gaining, never losing close behind, inevitable. In a delightfully."- untidy fence corner of a raspberry lane l saw more than once a pair of downy woodpeckers swingins on brier enjoying themselves as much perhaps, as the bobolinks that swing in the rushes Of every wet meadow though less gracefully. In a grassy
 clearing in front of my camp, a robin
 every morning executed his pretty
 lowing, zig zng pas seule, his worm dance, as it were. In the beech woof
 behind my house where brunella grows
 thickly blue as violets in May, woot ! thrushes and hernits sing all the leni
 day through, clear, ringing, joyous. II fern -ringed clay pools among th'
 beeches young frogs sport, cards" o !, fall from the whispering shore tunt
 fall from the whispering shore tun' . violins and 'cellos in preparation fo : nocturnal nohonies . Later, in New Hampshire, I foun' the same thrushes in the same heecl woods. and on the last day of July. no : far from turtle head and cardinal say 7 at the roadside a whole sisterhood 0 closed gentians. eternaily blue as } they reflected their familiar Septenbe } skies. It was on New Hafnrshir ) hillside, in the glow of departing das 5 that I saw a man who was impercepti : bly being taken back into nature. fad l ing with the days of sun and the sum 2 mer rains into the elements whenc t he came. Beyond a slope of sun 9 browned grass a field of corn wave 3 against a blue skyline, giided by th 9 setting sun; through the field, leanin g on his hoe moved the gaunt, lawn I figure of an old man. golden brown a 6 the field and the grass fiuttering srow l rags, brown, strange face above brow
 beard-an turned to gold by the ligf V in the west-a golden scare crow y Marjorie Sparrow in Boston Trar t script.