. (_V. olivaceus._)

[Illustration: Musical staff] pauses to Take a fly.

[Illustration: Musical staff] takes another, The same repeated without
conclusion.

SONG OF THE GOLDEN ROBIN. (_Icterus Baltimore._) [Illustration: Musical
staff]

[Footnote 1: Mr. Charles S. Paine, of East Randolph, who, I believe,
was the first to observe this habit of the Song-Sparrow.]

[Footnote 2: Mr. Augustus Fowler of Danversport, who has made one of
the finest collections of the eggs of native birds. His drawings of the
same are beautifully executed, accompanied by representations of the
nests and of the foliage that surrounded them. This gentleman and his
brother, Mr. S.P. Fowler, have found leisure, during the intervals of
their occupation in a mechanical art, to acquire a knowledge of certain
branches of natural history which would do honor to a professor.]

THE OLD WELL.

On a bright April morning many years ago, a stout, red-faced old
gentleman, Geoffrey Purcill, followed by several workmen bearing
shovels and pick-axes, took his way to a little knoll on which stood a
wide-spreading chestnut-tree. When they reached the top of the knoll,
the old man paused a moment and then struck his gold-headed cane upon
the ground at some little distance from the trunk of the tree, saying,
"Dig here."

The workmen looked at each other and then at their master.

"It would be useless to dig a well here, Sir," said one of the workmen,
very respectfully,--"no water would ever come into it."

"Who asked for your opinion?" inquired Geoffrey, in an angry tone. "Do
as I bid you;--the well shall be digged here, and water _shall_ come
into it."

The man ventured no further remonstrance; he took off his jacket, and
struck his pickaxe into the hard, dry soil near the point where the
cane rested.

Geoffrey Purcill was a choleric old gentleman, who, having had his own
way all his life, was by no means inclined to forego that privilege now
that he was advanced in years. As he sat beneath the chestnut-tree, one
warm spring day, he felt very thirsty, and he suddenly thought what a
good thing it would be to have a well there, so that he might refresh
himself with a draught of clear, cool water, without the trouble of
returning to the house. The more thirsty he grew, the pleasanter seemed
the project to him,--a large, deep well, neatly stoned, with a sweep
and buckets,--it would be a pretty object to look at, as well as
comfort to man and beast.