DECEMBER OUT-OF-DOORS. 49 



wayfarers stayed week after week. When- 

 ever I stole up cautiously and peeped over 

 the bank into their verdant hiding-place, I 

 was sure to hear the familiar cry; and di- 

 rectly one bird, and then another, and an- 

 other, would start up before me, disclosing 

 the characteristic brown feathers of the 

 lower back. They commonly assembled in 

 the middle of the marsh upon the snow or 

 ice, where they stood for a little, bobbing 

 their heads in mutual conference, and then 

 flew off over the house and over the orchard, 

 calling as they flew. 



Throughout December, and indeed 

 throughout the winter, brown creepers and 

 red - bellied nuthatches were surprisingly 

 abundant. Every pine wood seemed to have 

 its colony of them. Whether the extraordi- 

 nary mildness of the season had anything to 

 do with this I cannot say ; but their pres- 

 ence was welcome, whatever the reason for 

 it. Like the chickadee, with whom they 

 have the good taste to be fond of associat- 

 ing, they are always busy and cheerful, ap- 

 pearing not to mind either snow-storm or 

 low temperature. No reasonable observer 

 would ever tax them with effeminacy, though 



