118 FRIENDS WORTH KNOWING. 
of the winter approaches, they are among the first to hasten 
to their home within the arctic circle. In every alternate 
flock of snow-flakes may perhaps be found one or two Lap- 
land longspurs—another bird which builds its nest in the 
moss at the foot of Greenland glaciers. Its coat is white 
and black and chestnut, so that it is easily distinguishable 
from its lighter fellow, but it is very uncommon. 
Next to the diminutive humming-bird, the smallest bird 
on this continent is the golden-crested kinglet, on whose 
tiny brow rests a coronet of gold, fiery red and_ black, 
below which the jewelled eye is set in a soft, dusky back- 
ground of olive-green. From tooth to tail he is not so long 
as your finger, yet this pygmy braves the fury and desola- 
tion of winter as cheerily as though soft skies arched over- 
head. I owe him many thanks for piping his nonchalant, 
contented little lecture into my ears when I have growled 
at the weather and the “foolishness” which dragged me 
out-of-doors on certain terrible days, only to see what such 
absurd fellows as he were about. He is the most indepen- 
dent, irrepressible little chap I know of, and for the life of 
me I never can be down-hearted when he is by. In sum- 
mer the gold-crest (like his royal brother, the ruby-crown) 
is a fly-catcher, expertly seizing insects on the wing; and 
on warm days in winter he forages in the tree-tops for such 
