Happenings by the Way in 



intended to bolt the worm whole. And that was just 

 what he was planning to do ! What a struggle ensued ! I 

 would have wagered that the little gourmand had reck- 

 oned without his host when he undertook to swallow that 

 immense, worm. He twisted his neck this way and that, 

 gulped and squeezed and pried, until I feared he would 

 burst his throat open. At length the worm was partly 

 bolted, but it seemed to stick fast, and the bird stood 

 there with his mandibles pressed far apart, the end of his 

 dinner bulging out of his mouth, and I felt uneasy for a 

 time lest he should choke to death before my very eyes. 

 But, after resting a minute, he gave his neck a number 

 of convulsive twists, and at last succeeded in forcing the 

 unwilling worm down his throat, after which he wiped his 

 bill on the limb with a self-satisfied air and flitted away 

 as happy as a lark, knowing that his faithful craw would 

 do the rest. 



A slate-colored junco did a pretty thing in the woods 

 one day of early spring much more pleasing to see than 

 the incident just described. He had rinsed his feathers 

 in a pool of the little stream down in the hollow, and 

 now he was squatting flat on his belly on the ground in a 

 soft bed of brown leaves, preening and primping his plumes 

 with his little white, conical bill. Now he gave his quills 

 a deft touch, now the feathers of his wing, now those of 

 his dainty breast. Lying there in the sun he presented a 

 perfect picture of feathery laziness. Many a bird I have 

 seen arranging his toilet after a bath while perching on a 

 limb or a twig, and even, as in the case of the brown 

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