182 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



With one or two exceptions, indeed, the nests 

 could be set down in advance from their 

 color and evident dilapidation as being at 

 least a year old. 



Once we started a rabbit, and here and 

 there a few chickadees accosted us. Once, 

 I think, we heard the voice of a golden- 

 crowned kinglet. For the rest, the woods 

 seemed to be deserted, and at the end of 

 our long detour we came back to the road 

 half a mile above the point at which we had 

 left it. 



And still the world is not depopidated, 

 even in winter, nor are all the pretty wild 

 animals asleep. The snakes are, to be sure, 

 and the frogs (though hylas were peeping 

 late in December), and the chipmunks and 

 the woodchucks ; but there is abundant life 

 stirring, nevertheless. 



Yesterday I called on my friend again, 

 and together we walked up the road a 

 back-country thoroughfare. This time, also, 

 a light snow had just fallen, and my com- 

 panion, better informed than I in such mat- 

 ters, began to discuss footprints with me. 



"You know this one?" he asked. 



