THE SNOWFLAKE. 



Bobbie didn't want to go to 

 school that morning, and he look- 

 ed very cheerfully out upon the 

 cloudy sky and falling flakes 

 of snow, pretending to shiver a 

 little when the angry gusts of 

 wind blew the snow sharply into 

 people's faces. 



"I guess it's better for little 

 boy's like me to stay at home 

 such weather as this, mamma," 

 said he, all the while hoping the 

 snow would soon be deep enough 

 for him to ride down the hill 

 on his sled. 



Before his mamma could reply 

 Bobbie gave a cry of delight 

 which drew her at once to the 

 window. 



As from the snow clouds, on 

 bold and rapid wing, came 

 whirling down an immense flock 

 of birds, white, streaked with 

 gray and brown, chirping, calling 

 to one another, the whole flock 

 settling upon the open places in 

 a field in front of Bobbie's house. 



"Oh, the dear little things," 

 said Bobbie, " they looked like 

 little white angels dropping out 

 of the clouds." 



" Those are our winter neigh- 

 bors," said his mamma, "the 

 Snow Buntings or Snowflakes 

 they visit us only in winter, their 

 summer homes being away up 

 North near the Arctic Circle in 

 the region of perpetual snow." 



" Do they build their nests in 

 trees ? " asked Bobbie, who never 

 tired hearing about the birds. 



"There are no trees in that 

 bleak region, only scrubby bush- 

 es," was the answer. 'They 

 build a thick, deep grassy nest, 

 well lined with rabbit fur, or Snow 

 Owl feathers, which they tuck 

 under a ledge of rock or bunch 

 of grass." 



" They chirrup just like spar- 

 rows," reflected Bobbie, " can 

 they sing?" 



" They only sing when up in 

 their Northern home. There a 

 male Snowflake will sing as 

 merrily as his cousin the Gold- 

 finch." 



" They look like Sparrows, 

 too, " said Bobbie, " only whiter 

 and softer, I think." 



" In the summer they are 

 nearly all white, the brown 

 edges having worn away, leaving 

 them pure black and white. They 

 are very shy and suspicious, and 

 at the least sound you will see 

 them all whirl aloft braving the 

 blasts of winter like little 

 heroes." 



" Well," said Bobbie, after a 

 while, " if those little soft white 

 birds can go about in such 

 weather, I guess I can too," and 

 in a few minutes with high rub- 

 ber boots, and a fur cap drawn 

 over his ears, off trudged Bobbie 

 like another little hero to school. 



