FOOTNOTES:
[25] The guide-book allows two hours for the mile and a half on Owl's Head, while it gives only an hour and a half for the three miles up Mount Clinton—from the Crawford House.
[26] To bear out what has been said in the text concerning the abundance of ferns at Owl's Head, I subjoin a list of the species observed; premising that the first interest of my trip was not botanical, and that I explored but a very small section of the woods:—
- Polypodium vulgare.
- Adiantum pedatum.
- Pteris aquilina.
- Asplenium Trichomanes.
- A. thelypteroides.
- A. Filix-fœmina.
- Phegopteris polypodioides.
- P. Dryopteris.
- Aspidium marginale.
- A. spinulosum, variety undetermined.
- A. spinulosum, var. dilatatum.
- A. Goldianum.
- A. acrostichoides.
- A. aculeatum, var. Braunii.
- Cystopteris bulbifera.
- C. fragilis.
- Onoclea struthiopteris.
- O. sensibilis.
- Woodsia Ilvensis.
- Dicksonia punctilobula.
- Osmunda regalis.
- O. Claytoniana.
- O. cinnamomea.
- Botrychium lanceolatum.
- B. matricariæfolium.
- B. ternatum.
- B. Virginianum.
[27] This bird (Siurus nævius) is remarkable for the promptness with which he sets out on his autumnal journey, appearing in Eastern Massachusetts early in August. Last year (1884) one was in my door-yard on the morning of the 7th. I heard his loud chip, and looking out of the window, saw him first on the ground and then in an ash-tree near a crowd of house sparrows. The latter were scolding at him with their usual cordiality, while he, on his part, seemed under some kind of fascination, returning again and again to walk as closely as he dared about the blustering crew. His curiosity was laughable. Evidently he thought, considering what an ado the sparrows were making, that something serious must be going on, something worth any bird's while to turn aside for a moment to look into. The innocent recluse! if he had lived where I do he would have grown used to such "windy congresses."
[28] After all that has been said about the "pathetic fallacy," so called, it remains true that Nature speaks to us according to our mood. With all her "various language" she "cannot talk and find ears too." And so it happens that some, listening to the black-throated green warbler, have brought back a report of "Cheese, cheese, a little more cheese." Prosaic and hungry souls! This voice out of the pine-trees was not for them. They have caught the rhythm but missed the poetry.