108 RAMBLES ABOUT HOME. 



midwinter, and of what it consists, I am not sure ; but 

 from the fact that it frequents our out-buildings, and is 

 also often seen in the woods, especially among fallen tim- 

 ber, it is probable that hibernating insect-life and spiders 

 afford it all needed nourishment. 



I have now noted the more prominent features in the 

 migratory habits of our inland birds as they come to us 

 in May from the South, save the one fact, the bearing of 

 which I can not determine, that, while a large proportion 

 of the birds perform the journey by night, others travel 

 wholly by day. At least this is the common impression, 

 but it is difficult to demonstrate it. How little really do 

 we know of the precise modus operandi of migration ! 

 All through April arid May, if astir at the earliest dawn, 

 when the resident birds are just starting their morning 

 songs, we will occasionally hear the welcome notes of 

 some summer bird for the first time. Has it been wing- 

 ing its way northward through the thick, black hours of 

 night, guided by some unknown sense ; and does it no 

 sooner reach its old-time haunts than it checks its onward 

 course, and from a familiar tree sings with grateful heart 

 a loud thanksgiving glee ? 



If, during these same months, we wander about those 

 quiet nooks and by-ways, where the first thrushes and 

 warblers are likely to be seen, we shall find all the day 

 long, and evening, too, that they are conspicuous by their 

 absence. Not a chirp or twitter, save of the sparrows 

 and tits that are with us all the year, and of the linger- 

 ing snow-birds that seem to regret to leave our pleasant 

 places. Far into the night we may remain, and only 

 the startled chirp of some disturbed or dreaming bird, or 

 the fret and scolding of little owls, will greet our ears. 

 The silence of midnight may pass unbroken, and then, as 



