With the Winter Birds. 



245 



chord with the wild wiiitriness of the wood. The 

 jays blended well with the gray beech-trees, although 

 their bright feathers were as blue as the unclouded 

 sky above them. The tree-tops creaked where 

 branches crossed, giving a harsh sound for other 

 days, but a wholesome one for a day like this ; and 

 such, too, was the cry of the jay. The lisping tit- 



Blue -jay. 



mice were trivial just now, and belonged to sunny 

 nooks where lingered bits of green and perhaps a 

 dandelion ; but how grandly the jay's bold cry rang 

 through the wood ! It is not wholly a harsh sound. 

 There is a trace of smoothness now and then, almost 

 a flute-like tone, and the cry, as a whole, I translated 



21* 



