AiMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



95 



OUR YOUNG FRIENDS. 



Address communications to Meg Merrythought, 156 Waterville St., 

 Waterbury, Ct. 



My Dear Young Folks: 



We are all rejoicin:? in the swelling: buds, the fresh sweet odors of 



spring, and the return of the birds. 



The severe cold and storms of the winter brought some unusual 

 visitors to some parts of the Atlantic seaboard. Flocks of Snow- 

 buntings— fittingly called Snowflakes — with fluffy white breasts and 

 cheeks with rufous trimmings, the feathers on the back of a soft chin- 

 chilla, and white banded wings and tail, walked over the snow, now div- 

 ing into a snow-bank for a choice bit, coming fearlessly so close to the 

 windows that the admirers within could have reached out a hand and 

 touched them. 



They seemed very plump, and as downy as little chickens. I know 

 you would have wanted to cuddle them in your hands, though they 

 were nearly as large as robins. The markings varied greatly. Some 

 had bright rufous necklaces, cheeks and sides, others were entirely 

 without these markings. 



It was a pretty sight to see the flocks containing hundreds of these 

 birds rising together into the air, as at a signal, then floating like 

 flakes of snow to the earth with soft rippling notes. 



Contrary to the traditions of bird historians, they often alighted in 

 the tops of some nearby maple trees. They ate a water pail full of 

 cracked corn daily, yet were ready each morning for a fresh portion. 



