aceful a bird.

A water snake glides across the channel, leaving a silver wake in the
moonlight. The frogs plunk into the water as we push past. A night heron
rises from the margin of the river and slowly flops away. The bittern
booms again as we row down the peaceful river, and we leave the marshland
to its ancient and rightful owners.

And the marsh is meshed with a million veins,
That like as with rosy and silvery essences flow
In the rose and silver evening glow.
Farewell, my lord Sun!
The creeks overflow; a thousand rivulets run
'Twixt the roots of the sod; the blades of the marsh grass stir;
Passeth a hurrying sound of wings that westward whirr.
Sidney Lanier.

THE COMING OF MAN

If we betake ourselves to the heart of the deepest forests which are still
left upon our northern hills, and compare the bird life which we find
there with that in the woods and fields near our homes, we shall at once
notice a great difference. Although the coming of mankind with his axe and
plough has driven many birds and animals far away or actually exterminated
them, there are many others which have so thrived under the new conditions
that they are far more numerous than when the tepees of the red men alone
broke the monotony of the forest.

We might walk all day in the primitive woods and never see or hear a
robin, while in an hour's stroll about a village we can count scores. Let
us observe how some of these quick-witted feathered beings have taken
advantage of the way in which man is altering the whole face of the land.

A pioneer comes to a spot in the virgin forest which pleases him and
proceeds at once to cut down the trees in order to make a clearing. The
hermit thrush soothes his labour with its wonderful song; the pileated
woodpecker pounds its disapproval upon a near-by hollow tree; the deer and
wolf take a last look out through the trees and flee from the spot
forever. A house and barn arise; fields become covered with waving grass
and grain; a neglected patch of burnt forest becomes a tangle of
blackberry and raspberry; an orchard is set out.

When the migrating birds return, they are attracted to this new scene. The
decaying wood of fallen trees is a paradise for ants, flies, and beetles;
offering to swallows, creepers, and flycatchers feasts of abundance never
dreamed of in the primitive forests. Straightway, what mu