DECEMBER OUT-OF-DOORS. 51 
me, you had better stay at home.” He might 
have spoken a little less pertly; for after 
all, if a man would know what is going on, 
whether in summer or winter, he must not 
keep too much in his own door-yard. Of 
the thirty birds in my December list, I 
should have seen perhaps ten if I had sat all 
the time at my window, and possibly twice 
that number had I confined my walks within 
the limits of my own town. 
While the migration is going on, to be 
sure, one may find birds in the most unex- 
pected places. Last May I glanced up from 
my book and espied an olive-backed thrush 
in the back yard, foraging among the cur- 
rant-bushes. Raising a window quietly, I 
whistled something like an imitation of his 
inimitable song; and the little traveler — 
always an easy dupe — pricked up his ears, 
and presently responded with a strain which 
carried me straight into the depths of a 
White Mountain forest. But in December, 
with some exceptions, of course, birds must 
be sought after rather than waited for. The 
15th, for example, was a most uncomforta- 
ble day, —so uncomfortable that I stayed 
indoors, — the mercury only two or three 
