MIDWINTER BIRDS 3801 
One little feathered denizen, 
A plump and nut-brown winter wren, 
Sings of spring-time even there — 
“Tsip-twis-ch-e-e-e cheerily-cheerily-dare’”’ — 
Who could listen and despair? 
Charmed with the sweetness of his strain, 
My heart found cheer in winter’s bluster ; 
The leafless wood was fair again, 
Its ice-gems sparkled with new lustre. 
The tiny, trembling, tinkling throat 
Poured forth despair’s sure antidote, 
No leafy June hears sweeter note — 
“Tsip-twis-ch-e-e-e cheerily-cheerily-dare’”? — 
The essence of unspoken prayer. 
— Lynn TEw SpraAGugp, in Bird-Lore. 
THE CHICKADEE 
When piped a tiny voice hard by, 
Gay and polite, a cheerful cry, 
Chic-chicadee-dee! saucy note 
Out of sound heart and merry throat, 
As if it said, “‘Good-day, good sir! 
Fine afternoon, old passenger ! 
Happy to meet you in these places 
Where January brings few faces.” 
— R. W. Emerson. 
* * * * * * * 
These are a few of the many bits of verse and poems 
that Gray Lady read or recited to the children in these 
days, some of which they learned by heart. Once learned, 
she knew they would never be forgotten, but that years 
afterward, when they saw the birds that the lines described, 
the words and the days in the schoolhouse and playroom, 
