from fright or from the sharp claws piercing his heart. The hawk silently- 

 stripped his victim clean of feathers, and they fluttered one by one down to the 

 ground. He then ate the flesh with great relish, afterward resuming his flight. 

 No one loves the hawk, and his reputation for viciousness is universal. 



In winter, when the thaw begins to melt the snow, we hear the monotonous 

 "caw! caw! caw!" of the crow. Unlovely in color, in voice, and in character, 

 the crow is looked upon askance by all beings, both feathered and human. On 

 the whole, however, the crow is a good-natured clumsy fellow, who is not to be 

 blamed for his ignorance of the usages of good society. He has his own inter- 

 pretation as to what mine and thine really mean, which fact often involves him in 

 trouble. 



Grouse are found in the deep woods in cold weather. They are not a familiar 

 bird to most of us, as they keep in hiding the larger part of the time, running 

 under cover in search of food and roosting in trees at night. Their favorite 

 haunt is a fallen log, on which at some seasons of the year they drum. The sounds 

 of their strokes can be heard quite a distance away. 



A whole community of tree sparrows is a common sight in winter. They 

 alight on the snow, chase each other through it as though playing some game, 

 burrow in it for a snow bath, keeping up all the while a cheerful chirping and 

 twittering, as though it were the time for sunny skies and leafy trees. 



Occasionally a robin remains with us all the year, as well as a few song spar- 

 rows. The latter, however, do not sing until springtime, as a rule. There is a 

 beautiful story told in connection with the song sparrow. It seems this Httle 

 bird has a confiding way of building its nest on the ground. Some time since, 

 the United States army, under the command of General David Stanley, was cross- 

 ing our western plains. Its purpose was to discover a route for a great railroad. 

 As the army with its men and horses, mules and wagons, plodded along, the order 

 to halt came suddenly. A short distance directly in front of General Stanley 

 was a song sparrow's nest full of young birds. The mother bird was hovering 

 near, uttering piteous cries of distress as she saw the destruction of her babies 

 imminent. The next order the army received was, clear and sharp: "Left ob- 

 lique!" The long procession of men and horses, mules and wagons, swerved to 

 one side and passed far around that tiny bird's nest. We are told that for years 

 afterwards an abrupt bend in the trail marked the spot where a high-minded 

 general had compassion even for the suffering of a bird. Such an act of humanity 

 deserves honorable mention whenever the name of General David Stanley is 

 spoken. 



There are simple and inexpensive methods of showing our bird citizens that 

 we desire them to stay with us during the cold weather. We must be hospitable to 

 the extent of furnishing them with food, and if we can offer them shelter that they 

 will accept we are that much more fortunate. Grain and suet put in accessible 

 places will always be appreciated by our feathered friends, and in severe weather 

 may save some of them from starvation. — Countryside Magasine. 



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