WINTER BIRDS ABOUT BOSTON. 197 



With the pine grosbeaks the case is different. 

 When a man sees a company of rather large 

 birds about the evergreens in his door-yard, most 

 of them of a neutral ashy-gray tint, but one or 

 two in suits of rose-color, he is pretty certain to 

 feel at least a momentary curiosity about them. 

 Their slight advantage in size counts for some- 

 thing ; for, without controversy, the bigger the 

 bird the more worthy he is of notice. And 

 then the bright color ! The very best men are 

 as yet but imperfectly civilized, and there must 

 be comparatively few, even of Bostonians, in 

 whom there is not some lingering susceptibility 

 to the fascination of red feathers. Add to these 

 things the fact that the grosbeaks are extremely 

 confiding, and much more likely than the bunt- 

 ings to be seen from the windows of the house, 

 and you have, perhaps, a sufficient explanation 

 of the more general interest they excite. Like 

 the snow buntings and the red-polls, they roam 

 over the higher latitudes of Europe, Asia, and 

 America, and make only irregular visits to our 

 corner of the world. 1 



I cannot boast of any intimate acquaintance 

 with them. I have never caught them in a net, 

 or knocked them over with a club, as other per- 



1 Unlike the snow bunting and the red-poll, however, the pine 

 grosbeak is believed to breed sparingly in Northern New Eng- 

 Jand. 



