Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

time, but then going up to the top of the hill on the south, where I followed the path that leads along the edge of the woods.  I had not proceeded far, when a hundred little birds, it seemed, began to make odd little chirping cries, from out of the dark hollow.  I stopped a moment to listen to them.  They were very small, with dark grey heads and backs, and white breasts.  The air was filled with their excited noises as they nervously darted in and out among the bushes and trees.

In a short time I came to Bentley’s Woods, I went to a familiar place, to hunt Hypaticas.  It was a bank of the stream very near the end of the woods.  Every year I came here and never am unsuccessful.  To-day I was not, for I found three or four flowers which I picked carefully.  With this little bouquet I went on up along the winding stream, where the hills were becoming lower and rounder, for a short distance and then went up to the path, that led on thru the “Locusts, “ past the “Twin Springs” into the pasture fields fronting the woods.  Here I saw three pretty Scotch collies frisking about on the hills, having a great time.  It was not long until I finally arrived home somewhat tired.