WINTER BIRDS ABOUT BOSTON. 195 



perience, the snow buntings awaken no such 

 emotions. Arctic explorers by instinct, they 

 come to us only with real arctic weather, and 

 almost seem to be themselves a part of the 

 snow-storm with which they arrive. No matter 

 what they are doing : running along the street 

 before an approaching sleigh ; standing on a 

 wayside fence ; jumping up from the ground to 

 snatch the stem of a weed, and then setting at 

 work hurriedly to gather the seeds they have 

 shaken down ; or, best of all, skimming over 

 the snow in close order, their white breasts 

 catching the sun as they veer this way or that, 

 — whatever they may be doing, they are the 

 most picturesque of all our cold-weather birds. 

 In point of suspiciousness their behavior is very 

 different at different times, as, for that matter, 

 is true of birds generally. Seeing the flock 

 alight in a low roadside lot, you steal silently 

 to the edge of the sidewalk to look over upon 

 them. There they are, sure enough, walking 

 and running about, only a few rods distant. 

 What lovely creatures, and how prettily they 

 walk ! But just as you are wishing, perhaps, 

 that they were a little nearer, they begin to fly 

 from right under your feet. You search the 

 ground eagerly, right and left, but not a bird 

 can you discover; and still they continue to 

 start up, now here, now there, till you are 



