244 Walks in New England 



is looked for; the woodchuck dug his burrow early 

 and deep and retired, the wild geese migrated a 

 fortnight sooner than usual, the robins and crows 

 likewise, and not so many of these two species 

 staid behind as are wont to stay when the season 

 is to be open. 



It is often assumed that the robins who do not 

 follow the crowd to southern latitudes are the 

 young and foolish, truants, as it were, or prodigal 

 sons who stay instead of run away, but get reduced 

 to great straits just the same. But familiar obser 

 vation of these exceptional individuals, in their 

 door-yard calls, leads to the conclusion that they 

 are really the geniuses of their kind, experienced 

 fellows, that have found good winter homes in the 

 evergreens, and studied the lay of the land, the 

 resources of the woods in the way of deerberries 

 and fox-grapes, and of their human neighbours in 

 the specialty of crumbs at the farmers back doors 

 and in the hen-yards. We have, indeed, gathered 

 as much as this from the conversation of one of 

 them, met by the side of a Berkshire country road 

 in a sunny October day in a remarkably com 

 municative mood. &quot;Walk along! walk along!&quot; 

 he cried out cheerily; &quot;I m going your way.&quot; 

 We cannot translate all his remarks into cold 

 blooded English, but in the course of the talk he 

 intimated that as to going down south for his 



