WINTER BIRDS ABOUT BOSTON. 191 
all the year round, and that whoever had in- 
formed him to the contrary must have under- 
stood him to be speaking about the golden 
warbler. He expressed his gratification, but 
declared that he had really entertained no 
doubt of the fact himself; he had often seen 
the birds on the mountain when he had been 
cutting wood there in midwinter. At such 
times, he added, they were very tame, and 
would come about his feet to pick up crumbs 
while he was eating his dinner. ‘Then he went 
on to tell me that at that season of the year 
their plumage took on more or less of a red- 
dish tinge: he had seen in the same flock some 
with no trace of red, others that were slightly 
touched with it, and others still of a really 
bright color. At this I had nothing to say, 
save that his red birds, whatever else they 
were, could not have been goldfinches. But 
next winter, when I saw the “ yellow-birds ” 
and the red-poll linnets feeding together in 
Commonwealth Avenue, I thought at once of 
my Wachusett friend. Here was the very 
scene he had so faithfully described, — some 
of the flock with no red at all, some with red 
crowns, and a few with bright carmine crowns 
and breasts. They remained all winter, and 
no doubt thought the farmers of Boston a very 
good and wise set, to cultivate the evening 
