78 



THE 



,< (RED JUNO >. 





tt HERE Jl N( SLEEPS. 



well, the) really wer'n't scared quite out of their wits, and they had plenty of 

 time t( i get hack into bed after we were g< me. Besides, variety is the spice of life 

 i \ mi of a Snowbird's. But the boys! Say, Jones, how old are you, anyway? 

 When the first warm days of March bring up the Bluebirds and the 

 Robins, the Juncoes get the spring fever. But they do not rush off to fill 

 premature graves in the still snowy north. The company musters instead 



in the tree-tops on the quiet side of the w Is, and indulges in a grand eistedd- 



fi d. I am sure that the birds are a little Welch and that this term is strictly 

 correct. All sins; at mice a sweet little tinkling trill, not very pretentious, 

 but tender and winsome. Interspersed with this is a variety of sipping and 

 suckling notes whose uses are hard to discern. Now and then also a kissing 

 note, of repulsion instead of attraction, is heard, such as is employed during 

 the breeding season to frighten enemies. During the progress of the concert 

 some dashing young fellow, unable fully to express his emotion in song, runs 

 amuck and gi es charging about through the woodsy mazes in a fine frenzy, 

 without, however, quite spilling his brains. Others catch the infection, and 

 1 have seen a score a1 once in a mad whirl of this harmless excitement. 



Juncoes linger surprisingly late sometimes, well on into April or even 



