DECEMBER OUT-OF-DOORS. 43 



It was a summery spot ; moths were flit- 

 ting about us, and two grasshoppers leaped 

 out of our way as we crossed the lawn. They 

 showed something less than summer liveli- 

 ness, it is true ; it was only afterwards, and 

 by way of contrast, that I recalled Leigh 

 Hunt's 



" Green little vaulter in the sunny grass, 

 Catching his heart up at the feel of June." 



But they had done well, surely, to weather 

 the recent snow-storm and the low tempera- 

 ture ; for the mercury had been down to 10 

 within a fortnight, and a large snow-bank 

 was still in sight against the wall. Sud- 

 denly a close flock of eight or ten birds flew 

 past us and disappeared behind the hill. 

 "Pigeons?" said my companion. I thought 

 not ; they were sea-birds of some kind. Soon 

 we heard killdeer cries from the beach, and, 

 looking up, saw the birds, three of them, 

 alighting on the sand. We started down 

 the hill in haste, but just at that moment an 

 old woman, a miserable gatherer of drift 

 rubbish, walked directly upon them, and 

 they made off. Then we saw that our 

 "pigeons," or "sea-birds," had been nothing 

 but killdeer plovers, which, like other long- 



