158 NEW ENGLAND WINTER. 



pendence of spirit to fall in once in a while 

 with such a self-reliant and nonchalant 

 brother. For one, I wish I were better able 

 to profit by his example. He seems made 

 for hard times and short rations. Doubt- 

 less it is a delusion of the fancy, but he and 

 winter are so connected in my thought that 

 I can hardly conceive of him as knowing 

 what summer means, or as caring to know. 

 To a person of my tastes it is one of win- 

 ter's capital recommendations that it brings 

 its own birds with it, thus affording sundry 

 ornithological pleasures which otherwise 

 one would be compelled to go without. 

 The tree-sparrows, for instance, are very 

 good cold-weather acquaintances of mine. 

 There is nothing peculiarly taking about 

 their dress or demeanor ; but they are 

 steady-going, good-humored, diligent peo- 

 ple, whose presence you may always depend 

 upon. I lately witnessed a very pretty 

 trick of theirs. It was in the marsh just 

 over the fence from Beacon Street, where 

 a company of the birds, a dozen perhaps, 

 were breakfasting off the seeds of evening 

 primrose. Less skillful acrobats than their 

 neighbors and frequent traveling com pan- 



