In Winter-Quarters. 



WHETHER certain birds are annexationists or 

 not would be hard to tell, but a goodly company 

 of Canadians regularly spend the winter with me 

 here in the valley of the Delaware, and what jolly 

 times we have ! It was later than usual, this year, 

 that we met, but none the less hearty was their 

 cheerful greeting. The wide wilderness of weeds, 

 tangled greenbrier, the grove of stately poplars 

 rang as though the bells of Moscow had been 

 brought with them. There were kinglets and tree- 

 sparrows, snow-birds and bluebirds, black-caps and 

 the crested tit, nuthatches, purple finches, and a 

 winter wren. So much for the deserted woods 

 that newspaper poets are groaning over. Even 

 the upper air was not without its quota, for hun- 

 dreds of bluebirds were passing to and fro and 

 singing that plaintive autumn song that is match- 

 less of a cool October morning. 



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