6; 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



" should come out so strong under circumstances that would make 

 many of the other birds miserable " ! One would suppose a good cold 

 breath from Jack Frost would whiff the life from them. It is true 

 they are wrapped in the best kind of overcoats, with black caps drawn 

 over their ears, and good chest-protectors. But what in the world of 

 wonders saves those little wires of legs and claws ? What fiery hearts 

 they must have in their breasts, to force the blood-corpuscles through 

 the tendons in the coldest days ! "What pleasant, convivial, round- 

 headed little fellows they are, calling to one another from their 

 holes in the trees, living on the best of terms with their neighbors, 

 and ar ranging picnic - parties with the blue-jay and downy wood- 

 pecker ! 



By the middle of June all their children have become sufficiently 

 clothed for the summer, and as the season advances they gradually 

 don their flannels for the winter campaign. All that I see now in these 

 woods have thus early in the season formed themselves into flocks, 

 which leads me to believe that they have but one brood in the year. 

 All birds seem to understand each other's alarm-notes, although they 

 may belong to a different genus, and there is something that causes 

 them to congregate from all quarters whenever it is sounded. For 

 birds, like the higher bipeds, are of an inquiring turn of mind, and 

 the same motive prompts them, I believe, to gather at any unusual 

 occurrence in their precincts, which collects a crowd at a fire, or any 

 other excitement, in the streets of a city. 



At such times you realize the number and variety of birds that, a 

 moment before, were hidden and silent all around you. Here a female 

 oriole, startled by the close proximity of a meadow-mouse, that like 

 herself has come down to the stream to drink, flies up scolding terribly 

 at the spectacle, and instantly the other birds gather around to inquire 

 the reason of this consternation. The cedar-birds appear suddenly on 

 the spot, silent but observing. The song-sparrow hops upon a twig, 

 from his washing, preens his speckled breast, and curiously eyes his 

 brilliant neighbor. The yellow warbler holds up her head from behind 

 an alder-leaf, and goes skulking through the thick foliage. The in- 

 digo-bird looks upon the scene from the lofty spray of yonder elm, and 

 begins a song, when a puff of wind blows him off and cuts it short. 

 The brown thresher, last to come, flies across the opening, flaunts his 

 long tail as he alights on a low branch, and utters a few croaks. Then 

 all is silent as before. 



