weeks
of quiet, delightful bird-study, whose long sunny-days were passed in
the fragrant depths of pine groves, under arching forest of sweet-gum
trees, or on the shore of the salt marsh; but wherever, or however,
always following and spying out the ways of the feathered world.

The bird of the South--the mocking-bird, was the first object of study.
By day he was watched and noted, during the long twilight he was
listened to, and at midnight sleep was often banished by his wonderful
and enchanting voice. Gray and inconspicuous in coloring, we all know
him in the cage; but how different in freedom! how wild and bewitching
his song! how wise and knowing his ways! how well worth weeks of study
is this one bird!

Here were dozens of other birds also. What keen delight to one fresh
from the town, to look over the marsh where

"Leagues and leagues of marsh grass, waist high, broad in the blade,
Green and all of a height, and unflecked with a light or a shade,
Stretch leisurely off in a pleasant plain
To the terminal blue of the main;"

to watch the great snowy heron sweeping over with broad white wing,
tripping gracefully about on the edges of the channels, and toward
night betaking itself to a line of trees in the distance, that looked as
if full of snowy blossoms that moved and changed about and at last
settled for the night; to see the bald eagle catch a big fish and call
his mate to help him eat it; to watch the lesser tern hover with yellow
bill pointed downward and sharp eye fixed on the water, and at length
stiffen his wings and dive head first into it, bringing out his prey,
and filling the air with cries in a complaining, squealing tone that
always reminds one of a young pig; to gaze fascinated at the bewitching
flight of the ring-plover, sweeping low over the water in a small flock,
now almost invisible as the sombre-colored backs turn toward you, now
suddenly flashing bright as silver when the breasts come into sight,
moving in perfect unison as if impelled by one will. More, many more
birds of the marsh attract and draw one, but inland is the mocking-bird,
and after a walk along the shore, always my feet turned to the groves
and the fields where the matchless bird lives his life.

To see, as well as hear a wild mocking-bird sing, is worth a journey,
even over the rolling deep. I passed hours in a pleasant grove beyond
the gardens and fields, watching and listening to one bird whose concert
ha