A DECEMBER DAY WITH THE BIRDS. 



The winter of 1889-90 was extremely mild in 

 the latitude of Central Ohio, where most of my ob- 

 servations have been made. By some delightful 

 blunder nature had apparently thrust summer into 

 the lap of winter. Or had winter fallen asleep and 

 gone to dreaming of June ? On those clear, balmy 

 days, when the sky was an untlecked dome, I found 

 it impossible to remain in my study ; my thoughts 

 would " brook no ceiling narrower than the blue ; " 

 and so I often sauntered to a favorite woodland, to 

 watch the deportment of my " friends in plumes." 

 One of these days, the eleventh of December, 

 dwells pleasantly in my memory ; and I shall try 

 to describe it. For the sake of vividness I shall 

 use the present tense. 



Standing beneath the tall, bare trees, and breath- 

 ing in that peculiar woodsy atmosphere that per- 

 vades the place, I am delighted with the antics of 

 the little snowbirds, which have been the constant 

 companions of my winter loiterings. Here they 

 194 



