Sparganium. A yellowbird feigns broken wings. Woodcock.

  At 3 P.M., as I walked up the bank by the Hemlocks, I saw a painted turtle just beginning its hole . . . I stooped down over it, and, to my surprise, after a slight pause it proceeded in its work, directly under and within eighteen inches of my face. I retained a constrained position for three quarters of an hour or more for fear of alarming it . . .