same time uttering a curious, reverberating, sharp bleat, somewhat similar to the quivering twang of a dead twig, yet also so much like the real bleat of some small quadruped, that for some time I searched the ground instead of the air for the actor in the scene. At other times the males were seen darting up high in the air and whirling about each other in great anger and with much velocity. After these manovres the aggressor returned to the same dead twig, where for days he regularly took his station with all the courage and angry vigilance of a king-bird. The angry hissing or bleating note of this species seems something like wht' t' t't' tshvee, tremulously uttered as it whirls and sweeps through the air, like a musket ball, accompanied also by something like the whirr of the Night-Hawk. On the 29th of May I found a nest of this species in a forked branch of the Nootka Bramble, Rubus Nutkanus. The female was sitting on two eggs of the same shape and color as those of the common species. The nest, also, was perfectly similar, but somewhat deeper. As I approached, the female came hovering round the nest, and soon after, when all was still, she resumed her place contentedly."

Dr. Townsend's note is as follows

"Nootka Sound Humming Birds, Trochilus rufus, Ahpuets-rinne of the Chinooks. On a clear day the male may be seen to rise to a great height in the air, and descend instantly near the earth, then mount again to the same altitude as at first, performing in the evolution the half of a large circle. During the descent it emits a strange and astonishingly loud note, which can be compared to nothing but the rubbing together of the limbs of trees during a high wind. I heard this singular note repeatedly last spring and summer, but did not then discover to what it belonged. I did not suppose it be a bird at all, and least of all a humming bird. The observer thinks it almost impossible that so small a creature can be capable of producing so much sound. I have never observed this habit on a dull or cloudy day."

CHAPTER V.

SONG OF THE CHILDREN ABOUT SPRING.

THE HOURS.

I.

They the pure of heart never do grow old,
For spring-time finds them full of love to-day,
As three-score summers since when curls of gold,
Shone on those temples that are delved and gray.

They come! they come! with the golden hair
And sky-blue eyes-they all are there!
List! O list ye!-the song they sing,

Their song is a light song--light song-
A song about spring!

THE CHILDREN.

II.

We are younger forever as truth must be,

For we cannot grow old in simplicity.

We give out our lives as those streams do the sun,
That pratt'ling o'er pebble-beds flash as they run.
We sing in our joy-sing in our grief-
Must sing to be gladder-sing for relief,

Now we are so happy-must let our hearts go,
Ah sing we will-sing we must merrily O!-
Right cherrily O! Spring is coming again,
A jubilant earth is awaiting her reign!