40 Twelve Months With 



so realistic that I involuntarily glanced skyward 

 to see if any passing leaden cloud could be respon- 

 sible for this commotion, when I discovered a 

 large flock of juncos, in their drab coats, flitting 

 about in the brush, showing their white tail 

 feathers with every "tsip! tsip!" that they uttered. 

 The familiar call of this little bird is almost icy 

 in its brittle staccato, and suggests the cold wintry 

 days when they are so plentiful, and which they 

 seem to enjoy quite as much as the warm days 

 of spring. But the balmy air and bright sunshine 

 of this April morning seemed also to fill the juncos 

 to the bursting point, for one or two of them 

 perched upon a neighboring tree and poured 

 forth their happiness in their rather rare and 

 unusual song. 



In the meantime I had caught sight of the 

 female cardinal, on the opposite side of the path, 

 feeding among some old vines overhanging the 

 low trees, and while watching her some disturb- 

 ance along the river beyond her flushed her bril- 

 liant mate, who came flying directly over me, like 

 a ball of fire, alighting on the opposite side of 

 the path. 



Retracing my steps to the entrance of the woods, 

 I observed a pair of yellow-bellied sapsuckers 

 chasing each other about through the trees, and 

 returning after each excursion to a small poplar 

 directly in front of me, where they would rest 

 a moment, clinging to an upright limb, or to the 

 tree trunk, talking confidentially to each other, 



