BUNTING, SNOW. SNOWFLAKE 



They are the true spirits of the snow-storm. They are 

 the animated beings that ride upon it and have their life 

 in it. 



Thoreau. Winter.^^ 



These birds seem to be at their happiest in a storm, 

 and whenever one comes their way they join in its whirl 

 and scurry just for the fun of its fierce revelry, birds and 

 flakes mingUng in the same wild dance. 



Florence A. Merriam. Birds of Village and Field.^ 



With a uniformity of movement which would put to 

 shame the evolutions of the best-drilled troops, they whirl 

 over the snow-clad fields, wheeling to right or left, as 

 though governed by a single impulse. Suddenly they 

 swing downward into a weedy field, alighting on the snow 

 or ground, where they run — not hop about — Uke little 

 beach birds. 



Chapman. Bird Life.^^ 



Their white forms seen against the intense blue give the 

 impression of large snowflakes drifting across the sky. 



Burroughs. Pepacton.^ 



When they rise all together, their note is like the ratthng 

 of nuts in a bag, as if the whole bin-full were rolled from 

 side to side. 



Thoreau. Autumn.^* 



38 



