tle we should know of the drama of their airy life if we
had eyes only for this brief scene! Their finest qualities come out
in the patient cares that protect the young in the nest, in the varied
struggles for existence through the changing year, and in the incredible
heroisms of the annual migrations. Herein is a parable.

It may be observed further, without fear of rebuke, that the behaviour
of the different kinds of birds during the prevalence of romantic
love is not always equally above reproach. The courtship of English
sparrows--blustering, noisy, vulgar--is a sight to offend the taste
of every gentle on-looker. Some birds reiterate and vociferate their
love-songs in a fashion that displays their inconsiderateness as well as
their ignorance of music. This trait is most marked in domestic fowls.
There was a guinea-cock, once, that chose to do his wooing close under
the window of a farm-house where I was lodged. He had no regard for
my hours of sleep or meditation. His amatory click-clack prevented the
morning and wrecked the tranquillity of the evening. It was odious,
brutal,--worse, it was absolutely thoughtless. Herein is another
parable.

Let us admit cheerfully that lovers have a place in the landscape and
lend a charm to it. This does not mean that they are to take up all
the room there is. Suppose, for example, that a pair of them, on Goat
Island, put themselves in such a position as to completely block out
your view of Niagara. You cannot regard them with gratitude. They
even become a little tedious. Or suppose that you are visiting at a
country-house, and you find that you must not enjoy the moonlight on the
verandah because Augustus and Amanda are murmuring in one corner, and
that you must not go into the garden because Louis and Lizzie are there,
and that you cannot have a sail on the lake because Richard and Rebecca
have taken the boat.

Of course, unless you happen to be a selfish old curmudgeon, you
rejoice, by sympathy, in the happiness of these estimable young people.
But you fail to see why it should cover so much ground.

Why should they not pool their interests, and all go out in the boat, or
all walk in the garden, or all sit on the verandah? Then there would be
room for somebody else about the place.

In old times you could rely upon lovers for retirement. But nowadays
their role seems to be a bold ostentation of their condition. They rely
upon other people to do the timid, shrinking part.