A Northeast Storm. 165 



had sought shelter, yet not where the search for 

 food was impracticable, and while not fearing 

 the rain took care not to be entrapped by it. 

 Feathers sometimes prove a leaky roof. But I 

 could not stand long to catch uncertain glimpses 

 of mouse-like sparrows. It is well to keep 

 moving when out in the rain ; the buffeting of 

 the storm falls less heavily, and birds in wet 

 weather are not peculiarly entertaining. They 

 exhibit no new feature of their many-sided 

 characters, and keep their familiar pleasantries 

 as closely shut as their feathers. As much as 

 butterflies, birds belong to sunshine and the 

 rosy sunrise hours of our days. We think of 

 them when flowers bloom and trees are in full 

 leaf. We are not logical in so doing, to be 

 sure ; but then logic and a May morning are 

 ill-suited companions. Young people, I have 

 heard, fall in love in May, and where is logic ? 

 Too often retired to shady groves to weep. A 

 truly philosophical state of mind leads to seek- 

 ing out the reason of the discomforts of a north- 

 east storm and not merely endeavoring to avoid 

 them. And the discomforts, as we call them, 

 are they such to all animal life ? A bedraggled, 



