e, as if the color had
been put on wet, and had dripped at the point.

* * * * *

The third tramp with my Enthusiast was after a warbler. To my fellow
bird-students that tells a story. Who among them has not been bewitched
by one of those woodland sprites, led a wild dance through bush and
brier, satisfied and happy if he could catch an occasional glimpse of
the flitting enchanter!

This morning we drove a mile or two out of the village, hitched our
horse,--a piece of perfection, who feared nothing, never saw anything on
the road, and would stand forever if desired,--and started into the
pasture. The gate passed, we had first to pick our way through a bog
which had been cut by cows' hoofs into innumerable holes and pitfalls,
and then so overgrown by weeds and moss that we could not always tell
where it was safe to put a foot. We consoled ourselves for the
inconvenience by reflecting that a bog on the side of a mountain must
probably be a provision of Mother Nature's, an irrigating scheme for the
benefit of the hillside vegetation. If all the water ran off at once, we
argued, very little could grow there. So we who love to see our hills
covered with trees should not complain, but patiently seek the
stepping-stones sometimes to be found, or meekly resign ourselves to
going in over boot-tops without a word.

[Sidenote: _THE HERMIT'S NEST._]

Our first destination was the nest of a hermit thrush, discovered by my
friend the day before; and we stumbled and slipped and picked our way a
long distance over the dismal swamp, floundering on till we reached a
clump of young hemlocks, on ground somewhat more solid, where we could
sit down to rest. There was the nest right before us, a nicely made,
compact bird home, exquisitely placed in one of the little trees, a foot
from the ground.

While waiting for the owners to appear, I was struck with the beauty of
the young hemlocks, so different from most evergreen trees. From the
time a hemlock has two twigs above ground it is always picturesque in
its method of growth. Its twigs, especially the topmost one, bend over
gracefully like a plume. There is no rigid uniformity among the smaller
branches, no two appear to be of the same length, but there is an
artistic variety that makes of the little tree a thing of beauty. When
it puts out new leaves in the early summer, and every twig is tipped
with light green, it is particularly lovely, as if in bloom