984 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
guest, clad in red, with a black mask, a light red bill, and 
a striking crest; with him a bird so like him that they 
might have been called the two Dromios. After a few 
days the double passed on, and left our hero the only red- 
coat in the field. A White-throated Sparrow now arrived 
from the mountains, and a Damon-and-Pythias friendship 
sprang up between the birds. Having decided to winter 
at the North, they took lodgings in a spruce tree, and 
came regularly to the table d’héte on the porch. My lord 
Cardinal, being the more distinguished guest, met with 
particular favour, and soon became welcome at the homes 
of the neighbourhood. With truly catholic taste, he 
refused creature-comforts from none, but showed prefer- 
ence for his first abode. 
It was March 5, 1898, when we kept our first appoint- 
ment with the Cardinal. A light snow had fallen during 
the night, and the air was keen, without premonition of 
spring. It was a day for home-keeping birds, the earth 
larder being closed. The most delicate tact was required 
in presenting strangers. A loud, clear summons — the 
Cardinal’s own whistle echoed by human lips — soon 
brought a response. Into the syringa bush near the porch 
flew, with a whir and a sharp ¢stp, a bird. How gorgeous 
he looked in the snow-laden shrub! For an instant the 
syringa blossoms loaded the air with fragrance as a dream 
of summer floated by. Then a call to the porch was met 
by several sallies and quick retreats, while the wary bird 
studied the newcomers. Reassuring tones from his gen- 
tle hostess, accompanied by the rattle of nuts and seeds, 
at last prevailed, and the Cardinal flew to the railing, and 
looked us over with keen, inquiring eye. Convinced that 
