8 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



Some of our winter birds still go about in 

 flocks, notably the waxwings, the goldfinches, 

 and the purple finches. Two days ago I 

 noticed a goldfinch that was almost in full 

 nuptial dress; as bright as he ever would 

 be, I should say, but with the black and the 

 yellow still running together a little here and 

 there. Purple finches are living high in 

 two senses just at present, feeding on the 

 pendent flower-buds of tall beech trees. A 

 bunch of six or eight that I watched the 

 other day were literally stuffing themselves, 

 till I thought of turkeys stuffed with chest- 

 nuts. Their capacity was marvelous, and 

 1 left them still feasting. All the while one 

 of them kept up a happy musical chatter. 

 There is no reason, I suppose, why a poet 

 should not be a good feeder. 



