24 WINTER SUNSHINE. 



" When the spring stirs my blood 



With the instinct of travel, 

 I can get enough gravel 



On the old Marlborough road." 



Cold as the day was (many degrees below freez- 

 ing), I heard and saw bluebirds, and as we passed 

 along every sheltered tangle and overgrown field or 

 lane swarmed with snow-birds and sparrows the 

 latter mainly Canada or tree-sparrows, with a sprink- 

 ling of the song, and, may be, one or two other varie- 

 ties. The birds are all social and gregarious in 

 winter, and seem drawn together by common instinct. 

 Where you find one, you will not only find others of 

 the same kind, but also several different kinds. The 

 regular winter residents go in little bands, like a well- 

 organized pioneer corps the jays and woodpeckers 

 in advance, doing the heavier work ; the nuthatches 

 next, more lightly armed ; and the creepers and king- 

 lets with their slender beaks and microscopic eyes, 

 last of all. 1 



Now and then, among the gray-and-brown tints, 

 there was a dash of scarlet the cardinal grossbeak, 

 whose presence was sufficient to enliven any scene. 

 In the leafless trees, as a ray of sunshine fell upon 

 him, he was visible a long way off, glowing like a 

 crimson spar the only bit of color in the whole 

 landscape. 



Maryland is here rather a level, unpicturesque 



1 It seems to me this is a borrowed observation, but I do not 

 know whom to credit it to. 



