error for me
ever since an exciting experience with them in my childhood. I stood
respectfully on one side, prepared to fly should the "critters" (local)
show malicious intent. On they came, looking at me sharply with wicked
eyes. I made ready for a rush, when, lo! they turned from me, and
dashed madly into a spruce-tree, nearly upsetting themselves, and
threatening to run away. We were all afraid of each other.

The mortified driver apologized for their behavior on the ground that
"they ain't much used to seeing a lady up in the wood lot." I generously
forgave them, and then meekly followed in their footsteps, up, up, up
toward the clouds, till we reached the bluejay neighborhood. Here we
parted. My escort passed on still higher, and I seated myself to see at
last my bluejays.

Dead silence around me. Not a leaf stirred; not a bird peeped. I began
to make a noise myself--calls and imitations (feeble) of bird-notes to
arouse their curiosity; a bluejay is a born investigator. No sign of
heaven's color appeared except in the patches of sky between the leaves.

Other wood dwellers came; a rose-breasted grosbeak, with lovely rosy
shield, with much posturing and many sharp "clicks," essayed to find out
what manner of irreverent intruder this might be. Later his modest
gray-clad spouse joined him. They circled around to view the wonder on
all sides. They exchanged dubious-sounding opinions. They were as little
"used to seeing a lady" as the oxen. They slipped away, and in a moment
I heard his rich song from afar.

No one else paid the slightest attention to my coaxing, and I returned
by easy stages to the spruces, where I had the misfortune to arouse the
suspicion of a robin. Do you know what it is to be under robin
surveillance? Let but one redbreast take it into his obstinate little
head that you are a suspicious character, and he mounts the nearest
tree--the very top twig, in plain sight--and begins his loud "Peep!
peep! tut, tut, tut! Peep! peep! tut, tut, tut!"

This is his tocsin of war, and soon his allies appear, and then

"From the north, from the east, from the south and the west,
Woodland, wheat field, corn field, clover,
Over and over, and over and over,
Five o'clock, ten o'clock, twelve, or seven,
Nothing but robin-calls heard under heaven."

No matter what you do or what you don't do. One will perch on each side
of you, and join the maddening chorus, driving every bird in the
neigh