creaking of a sign-board in windy weather, It builds its nest, as I was informed, generally in a detached bush, much like that of the mocking bird; but as the spring was not then sufficiently advanced, I had no opportunity of seeing its eggs. It is generally known by the name of the loggerhead."

9

CHAPTER IV.

MY HUMMING BIRDS.

As a child, I always had a passion for the humming bird. It ever caused a thrill of delight when one of these glittering creatures, with its soft hum of flight, came out of repose all suddenly-hanging, a sapphire stilled upon the air-for here no wings are seen,-as, like a quick, bright thought, it darts, is still, and then away!

The mystery of "whence it cometh, and whither it goeth," was a lovely and exciting one to me. How and where could a thing so delicate live in a rough, wintry world like this? How could the glory of its burnished plumes remain undimmed, that it thus shot forth arrows of light into my eyes, while all other things seemed slowly fading?

Where could it renew its splendors? In what far bath of gems dissolved, dipping, come forth mailed in its varied shine? How could those tiny wings, whose soul-like motion no mortal eye can follow, bear the frail sprite through beating tempests that are hurling the albatross, with mighty pinions, prone upon the wave; or that dash the sea-eagle, shrieking, against its eyrie-cliff? How speeds it straight and safe-the gem-arrow of the elfs?

Could it be that the tiny birds lived only on the nectar of flowers? It seemed, surely, the fitting food for beauty so ethereal. But, then, it removed them so far from things of the earth, earthy-their home must surely be fairyland, and they coursers of the wind for Ariel to "put a girdle round