THE PROSPERITY OF A WALK 155 



tree sparrows, goldfinches, snowbirds, brown 

 creepers, flickers, and golden-crowned king- 

 lets. Twice since December came in I have 

 seen a shrike. Once I heard a single pine 

 finch passing, invisible, far overhead. On 

 the same day (December 2)1 caught the fine 

 staccato calls of a purple finch, without see- 

 ing the author of them. On the 2d and 3d 

 three or four rusty blackbirds were unexpect- 

 edly in the neighborhood. Quail and grouse 

 are never absent, of course, but I happen to 

 have seen neither of them of late, though one 

 day I heard the breezy quoiting of a quail, 

 greatly to my pleasure. On the 14th I came 

 upon a single robin in the woods, the first 

 since November 21. He was perched in a 

 leafless treetop, and was calling at the top 

 of his voice, as if he had friends, or hoped 

 that he had, somewhere within hearing. The 

 sight was rather dispiriting than otherwise. 

 He looked unhappy, in a cold wind, with the 

 sky clouded. He had better have gone south 

 before this time, I thought. Half an hour 

 afterward I heard the quick, emphatic, an- 

 swer-demanding challenge of a hairy wood- 

 pecker (as much louder and sharper than the 



