“Soon as it come hot weather there, that time in N’ York, I couldn’t set closed into meetin’ of Sundays (though mother, she sit it out for sake of principle), and I don’t believe the Lord does, either,—stands to reason he’s got too much sense, not havin’ to set an example,—so I uster wander out through that long narrer park o’ theirn, and when onct I cut clean through westward, I strayed into that big museum where they keep the natural relics, and there I come face to face with all the birds that ever wuz together since Eve’s time. When I’d observed all the cockatoos and parrerkeets and such like, I went on a bit further, ’n if there warn’t a partridge a struttin’ on the leaves with his tail all fanned out, and beyond it the brown eggs was nested in a ground holler. I passed that by and next I seen a catbird in a syringa bush and a robin on an apple branch and a highholder on a stump, that set my heart a-bumpin’ so I was all of a tremble and sidled off into a small room to set down. When I looked up next, what was there in a case marked something about ‘seasonable birds’ but a big medder lark. His breast was jest as fresh and yaller as when he sings from a tree-top to yer in plantin’ time, or turns and teeters on a fence to keep you from seein’ him too plain, and it seemed as if I heard him calling fer spring. That broke me all up, and I jest leaned over and cried it out into the white Sunday handkerchief mother got me, ’cause my red ones jarred the boys. “I think it was the sight of those birds gave me grit to break loose fer home. That next winter a woman we sold eggs to over in Gordon, seein’ my fancy, gave me a book all about their ways and needs, and so ever since I’ve been with ’em in heart. My, but ain’t they company along the lonely road bits and in early mornings when I’m comin’ home! (I go up Tuesdays and Fridays to sleep at Sairy Ann’s, my wife’s sister’s house near Gordon, startin’ fer home next dawn.) “Along in April to see the woodcock flirt an’ dance’s as good’s a circus. Sometime, maybe, ’twould pleasure you to take the trip with me, and Sairy Ann’d be proud to hev you stop with her. My, here we are at your corner! How good conversation does pass the time!” Without in the least realizing that he had been doing the whole of the talking, the pieman handed Brooke out at the door stone, Tatters limping carefully after, and Maria turned down the lane to the barn, with which she was perfectly familiar. Brooke, hastening in to explain their unique guest to her mother and tend the sick paw, found that Mrs. Peck had been sent for to “sit up” with a bereaved household down at Gilead; telling Mrs. Lawton that it was expected of her, no matter whom she might be “accommodating,” she had left immediately, promising to return the next night.