100 LAND OF THE LINGERING SNOW. 



tyrant to their fair intervales. Along the shel- 

 tered furrows in the ploughed fields and against 

 the cold side of stone walls ribbons of white 

 snow lay in hiding from the sun. Even in the 

 streets of Concord we had seen good-sized drifts, 

 and piles under roof angles. The storm of the 

 Friday previous, which along the coast brought 

 rain, had turned to snow here, while further in- 

 land many inches of snow had fallen, blocking 

 roads and breaking wires. The west wind blow- 

 ing across this wintry stretch of country came 

 to us well whetted. 



From one sloping field it brought us the med- 

 ley music of a flock of over sixtj r redwings. As 

 we listened to the distant choir a rich undercur- 

 rent of sound came to us. " Wild geese," I ex- 

 claimed. My friend shook his head doubtfully, 

 but paddled ashore to see whether blackbirds 

 really composed the whole orchestra. We found 

 them on a patch of high meadow, some in the 

 trees singing, others on the ground feeding. All 

 rose and whirled like a puff of burnt paper in 

 the breeze. Then they settled again, and the 

 deeper notes in their medley came to us once 

 more like the far-off honking of geese. Then we 

 floated on by meadow and brier patch ; thickets 

 of birch in which the faint spring tints were be- 

 ginning to grow clearer and stronger ; ploughed 

 fields over which j uncos flashed their white V's ; 



