M ore Friends Come With the Snow 



it looks as if there would be too much snow for me 

 to get a living, I move along. I hope I will not 

 have to go any farther than this, but if some 

 morning you wake up and find the snow so deep 

 that all the heads of the weeds are buried, don't 

 expect to find me." 



"That's what I call good, sound common sense," 

 said another voice, and a bird a little bigger than 

 Snowflake, and who at first glance seemed to be 

 dressed almost wholly in soft chocolate brown, 

 alighted in the snow close by and at once began to 

 run about in search of seeds. It was Wanderer the 

 Horned Lark. Peter hailed him joyously, for there 

 was something of mystery about Wanderer, and 

 Peter, as you know, loves mystery. 



Peter had known him ever since his first winter, 

 yet did not feel really acquainted, for Wanderer 

 seldom stayed long enough for a real acquaintance. 

 Every winter he would come, sometimes two or three 

 times, but seldom staying more than a few days at 

 a time. Quite often he and his relatives appeared 

 with the Snowflakes, for they are the best of friends 

 and travel much together. 



Now as Wanderer reached up to pick seeds from 

 a weed-top, Peter had a good look at him. The 

 first things he noticed were the two little horn-like 

 tufts of black feathers above and behind the eyes. 

 It is from these that Wanderer gets the name of 

 [309] 



