74 THE FALL OF THE YEAR 



mine in the gray November light. The grass-blades 

 are wilting, the old leaves are falling ; but no square 

 foot of greensward will the winter kill, nor a single 

 tree perhaps in all my wood-lot. There will be little 

 less of life next April because of this winter. The 

 winter birds will suffer most, and a few may die. 



Last February, I came upon two partridges in the 

 snow, dead of hunger and cold. It was after an ex- 

 tremely long " severe spell " ; but this was not the only 

 cause. These two birds since fall had been feeding 

 regularly in the dried fodder corn that stood shocked 

 over the field. One day all the corn was carted away. 

 The birds found their supply of food suddenly cut off, 

 and, unused to foraging the fence-rows and tangles 

 for wild seeds, they seem to have given up the strug- 

 gle at once, although within easy reach of plenty. 



Hardly a minute's flight away was a great thicket 

 of dwarf sumac covered with berries. There were 



bayberries, rose- 

 hips, greenbrier, 

 ' bittersweet,black 



alder, and checkerberries 

 ^ ia ^ *^ey might have 

 found. These berries would have 



^ een k ar( * ^ are> doubtless, a ^ er 



an unstinted supply of sweet corn; 

 but still they were plentiful and would have been 

 sufficient had the birds made use of them. 



The smaller birds that stay through the winter, 



