But even then I was
not without excellent feathered society. Red-eyed vireos (one pair had
their nest within twenty feet of the hotel), chippers, song sparrows,
snow-birds, robins, waxwings, and phoebes were to be seen almost any
moment, while the hermit thrushes, as I have before mentioned, paid us
occasional visits. The most familiar of our door-yard friends, however,
to my surprise, were the yellow-rumped warblers. Till now I had never
found them at home except in the forests of the White Mountains; but
here they were, playing the _role_ which in Massachusetts we are
accustomed to see taken by the summer yellow-birds, and by no others of
the family. At first, knowing that this species was said to build in low
evergreens, I looked suspiciously at some small spruces which lined the
walk to the pier; but after a while I happened to see one of the birds
flying into a rock-maple with something in his bill, and following him
with my eye, beheld him alight on the edge of his nest. "About four feet
from the ground," the book said (the latest book, too); but this lawless
pair had chosen a position which could hardly be less than ten times
that height,--considerably higher, at all events, than the eaves of the
three-story house. It was out of reach in the small topmost branches,
but I watched its owners at my leisure, as the maple was not more than
two rods from my window. At this time the nestlings were nearly ready
to fly, and in the course of a day or two I saw one of them sitting in a
tree in the midst of a drenching rain. On my offering to lay hold of him
he dropped into the grass, and when I picked him up both parents began
to fly about me excitedly, with loud outcries. The male, especially,
went nearly frantic, entering the bowling alley where I happened to be,
and alighting on the floor; then, taking to the bole of a tree, he
fluttered helplessly upon it, spreading his wings and tail, seeming to
say as plainly as words could have done, "Look, you monster! here's
another young bird that can't fly; why don't you come and catch him?"
The acting was admirable,--all save the spreading of the tail; that was
a false note, for the youngster in my hand had no tail feathers at all.
I put the fellow upon a tree, whence he quickly flew to the ground (he
could fly down but not up), and soon both parents were again supplying
him with food. The poor thing had not eaten a morsel for possibly ten
minutes, a very long fast for a bird of