ble. In vain did I seek to find the songster. Again he sang and them I saw him, perched at the tap of a mass of clinging grape vines - a cardinal. Had the wonderful morning inspired such a wonderful strain, or was it that brownish bird that flitted ner­vously below that he was trying to woo? I think it was the morning that had gotten into him, for his mate seemed already won; possi­bly he was trying to tell her all about the fresh sunshine and breeze, as tho she could not see for herself. At any rate I decided on the spot that it was one of the most stirring and delightful songs I ever heard and I listened, spell-bound until, frightened at my presence, he flew away, followed by his mate.  I envied her, her wings.
     The woods now had a new charm for me, and so I presently turned and went up the road again. The chipmunks frisked out of sight at my approach. Past their hiding place I went. In a tree I saw an odd looking sparrow shaped bird. Its lower breast was a light slatish grey, the back and wings slightly darker, the         looked as tho the head and upper breast had been dipped in black ink. They flew up at my approach, and as they did so several more appeared, all of them flying into