Then, again, if there is utility in beauty, surely I am a benefit to every one. One day I heard a lady say that she never saw my head pop up from behind an old stump without bursting into laughter, I looked so funny. Now I took that as a compliment; for to give pleasure to those around us, I have heard, is one of our highest duties. Next summer when you seek the pleasant places where I dwell,--in the old deadening where the trees wear girdles around them; in the open groves, where I flit from tree to tree; in the deep wooded districts, whence one hears the tinkling ripple of running waters, you may, if good and gentle, see pop up behind a stump the red hat of SAPSUCKER. THE WOOD PEWEE. The listening Dryads hushed the woods; The boughs were thick, and thin and few The golden ribbons fluttering through; Their sun-embroidered leafy hoods The lindens lifted to the blue; Only a little forest-brook The farthest hem of silence shook; When in the hollow shades I heard-- Was it a spirit or a bird? Or, strayed from Eden, desolate, Some Peri calling to her mate, Whom nevermore her mate would cheer? "Pe-ri! Pe-ri! Peer!" * * * To trace it in its green retreat I sought among the boughs in vain; And followed still the wandering strain So melancholy and so sweet, The dim-eyed violets yearned with pain. * * * Long drawn and clear its closes were-- As if the hand of Music through The sombre robe of Silence drew A thread of golden gossamer; So pure a flute the fairy blue. Like beggared princes of the wood, In silver rags the birches stood; The hemlocks, lordly counselors, Were dumb; the sturdy servitors, In beechen jackets patched and gray, Seemed waiting spellbound all the day That low, entrancing note to hear-- "Pe-wee! Pe-wee! Peer!" * * * "Dear bird," I said, "what is thy name?" And thrice the mournful answer came, So faint and far, and yet so near, "Pe-wee! Pe-wee! Peer!" --J. T. TROWBRIDGE. [Illustration: From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences. WOOD PEWEE. Copyrighted by Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.] THE WOOD PEWEE. I am called the Wood Pewee, but I don't always stay in the woods. If you have an orchard or a nice garden, you will hear me singing there in June. People think I am not a happy bird, because my song seems so sad. They are very much mistaken. I am just as happy as any other little fellow dressed in feathers, and can flirt and flutter with the best of them. _Pewee! Pewee! Peer!_ That is my song, and my mate thinks it is beautiful. She is never far away, and always comes at my call. Always, did I say?