Our Winter Birds. 



249 



unknown Scotchman, began to make its 

 appearance, ornithology among us was in 

 its infancy, and the freshness of his hardy 

 original genius was promptly recognized 

 and keenly relished abroad, in contrast 

 with the stale, unprofitable treatment of 

 the predominant schools of the technico- 

 lists. It was at once perceived how much 

 the attractiveness of his object was height- 

 ened by the circumstances of his personal 

 intimacy and association with the creatures 

 ■described in many of the conditions of nat- 

 ural freedom. His fine descriptions had the 

 flavor of the wilderness about them. His 

 birds were living things, and led out the 

 heart in yearning through the scenes of a 

 primeval earth to recognize them in their 

 own wild homes, singing to the solitude 

 from some chosen spray, or plying with 

 careless grace, on busy wing, their curious 

 sports and labors." 



* * * 



" While the biographies of Wilson were 

 full of natural spirit, of grace and power, 

 greatly beyond all his predecessors, yet 

 those of Audubon are far more minute and 

 carefully detailed, introducing us, one after 



another, to a more intimate fellowship with 

 each individual of the wide family of his 

 love, through every piquant and distinctive 

 trait of gesture, air, and movement, char- 

 acterizing all the phases of their nature — 

 without the faults of generalization, and 

 too much credence to hearsay, or a 

 gloomy and unphilosophic spirit, since the 

 mild and loving geniality of childhood 

 breathes through every line." 



But in instituting a comparison between 

 the result of the labors of Alexander Wil- 

 son and those of his great contemporary 

 John James Audubon, it should always be 

 borne in mind that the latter were the fruits 

 of a long life time, while Wilson-'s labors 

 were concentrated into the little space of 

 seven years. 



His private life was irreproachable, his 

 character estimable, and many of those 

 with whom his literary labors brought him 

 in contact became warmly attached friends. 



He was buried in the burial ground of 

 the old Swedes Church at Philadelphia, 

 and the account of a recent visit to his 

 grave by Mrs. Helen V. Austin in this 

 present number will be read with interest. 



OUR WINTER BIRDS 



IN THE VICINITY OF DUNSTABLE, MIDDLESEX CO., MASS. 



HOW many birds have we got in win- 

 ter ? I do not know of any ! say 

 some. I never saw but two or three birds, 

 say others, that perhaps have lived in the 

 country all their lives. 



But here is a boy that says: "I know, 

 there's the jay bird and chickadee, some- 

 times crows, and one winter I saw an owl." 

 That's right, my boy, now just keep your 

 eyes and ears open, and soon you may get 

 sight of a number of other varieties. On 

 cloudy or stormy days you may especially 

 look out for owls. You may see one on a 

 tree by a meadow or perhaps you see one 

 flying, with a flight similar to the hawks. 



only the period of sailing is much smaller. 

 Although thirteen species of owls are 

 given by Prof. W. A. Stearns as occurring 

 in New England, but few observers would 

 be likely to be fortunate enough to observe 

 much more than one-half that number, 

 alive, in a lifetime. 



Whenever we are in the vicinity of woods 

 or meadows, even near villages, the watch- 

 ful eye may get a glimpse of a great horned 

 owl {-Bubo virginianus) also called "bat 

 owl," "hoot owl," or " hooter." This bird 

 may be known by its large size and dark 

 color. On rare occasions we may possibly 

 see the snowy owl {Nyctea scandiaca) or 



