What Birds Feed On in Winter 



Harriet Reynolds 



Ui)iHT Falls, BaltoCo., Md. 



HERE came flutterin^^ about the window, 

 — the temperature was nearly zero, and 

 the north wind blew the hail, and snow 

 about — some tiny white and black birds. 

 The wind rattled the sleet against the 

 glass, and rocked the icy branches, 

 causing the little storm-tossed creatures, 

 when they rested on them, to hold on 

 with all their strength, while their 

 feathers were blown every way. Within 

 were the inexpressible comforts of home, 

 the warm shelter, light, the aiTn chair, 

 food, and a delightful resting place for the winter night. Without 

 the homeless, supperless little atoms of life, eagerly watching for 

 the crumbs on the shelf, enduring the cold, braving a storm in which 

 man could not exist, yet surviving bright and happy on the mor- 

 vo\Y. They were the juncoes, visitors from the North, the snow- 

 birds for they come and go with the snow^ If they were whiter, 

 they could have that other pretty bird name, snowflakes, but they 

 belong to another branch of that great sparrow family. Who even 

 heard of a snowbird freezing or minding the cold, they seem to 

 rejoice in it . When they fly away, they show four white feathers in 

 their black tails, this is the only way that they show the white 

 feather of cowardice, for more brave or hardy little birds do not 

 live. Their pretty feet and bills are as pink as the inside of a lovely 

 sea shell, their breasts as white as snow. 



Mother Nature made them, perchance of snow feathers, with 

 a tint of black, so that one could see them, and of pink to make 

 them brighter; then sent them away with the flying snow to 

 cheer up dark winter time with life, beauty and attractiveness. 



They are the dainty, darling children of the snow, always 

 coming in flocks, gentle and generous to each, sprightly, and merry 

 in their ways. When warm spring airs take the place of cold 

 weather, one thinks how the birds will enjoy the change, but our 

 little, cold weather friends are gone. The southland lairds have 



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