ceeds, until the last notes are so loud
as to seem almost in our immediate presence. He might be supposed to
utter His words, _I see_, _I see_, _I see_, etc.,--emphasizing the first
word, and repeating the words six or eight times, louder and louder with
each repetition. No other bird equals this little Thrush in the emphasis
with which he delivers his brief communication. His notes are associated
with summer noon-days in the deep woods, and, when bursting upon the ear
in the silence of noon, they disperse all melancholy thoughts, and
inspire one with a vivid consciousness of life.

The most remarkable thing connected with the history of this bird is his
oven-shaped nest. It is commonly placed on the ground, under a knoll of
moss or a tuft of grass and bushes, and is formed almost entirely of
long grass neatly woven. It is covered with a roof of the same
materials, and a round opening is made at the side, for the bird's
entrance. The nest is so ingeniously covered with grass and disguised
with the appearance of the general surface around it, that it is very
seldom discovered. The Cow-Bunting, however, is able to find it, and
often selects it as a depository for its own eggs.

Those who are addicted to rambling in pursuit of natural curiosities may
have observed that pine-woods are remarkable for certain collections of
mosses which have cushioned a projecting rock or the decayed stump of a
tree. When weary with heat and exercise, it is delightful to sit down
upon one of these green velveted couches and take note of the objects
immediately around us. We are then prepared to hear the least sound that
invades our retreat. Some of the sweetest notes ever uttered in the wood
are distinctly heard only at such times; for when we are passing over
the rustling leaves, the noise made by our progress interferes with the
perfect recognition of all delicate sounds. It was when thus reclining,
after half a day's search for flowers, under the grateful shade of a
pine-tree, now watching the white clouds that sent a brighter day-beam
into these dark recesses, as they passed luminously overhead, and then
noting the peculiar mapping of the grounds underneath the wood,
diversified with mosses in swelling knolls, little islets of fern, and
parterres of ginsengs and Solomon's-seals,--in one of these cloisters of
the forest, I was first greeted by the pensive note of the Green
Warbler, as he seemed to titter in supplicatory tones, very slowly