120 Bird Comrades 



seeing any birds. What had become of my feathered 

 neighbors, my companions in every ramble throughout 

 the winter? Had the storm driven them to other climes 

 where bland winds prevailed ? Oh, no ! See what prudent 

 creatures they were that wintry day. At the eastern 

 border of the woods, where the sun shone warmly and 

 the keen westerly breeze was broken and tempered, my 

 little friends were found in goodly numbers, well knowing 

 where the Frost King's anger would be softened. 



Here were nuthatches and chickadees in plenty, and 

 also tufted tits, tree sparrows, j uncos, downy woodpeckers, 

 and, to make the complement as nearly full as possible, a 

 hairy woodpecker drummed and chir-r-r-red, several blue 

 jays complained in the distance, and a goldfinch swinging 

 overhead threaded the air with festoons of black and gold. 

 And here I witnessed a new and pretty antic of a tree 

 sparrow, which flew over from a cornfield hard by and 

 perched on a dogwood sapling only a few feet away; then 

 it plunged its beak into the little snowbank on the twig 

 before it and ate greedily of the snow, some of the crys- 

 tals clinging to its mandibles, just as the crumbs adhere 

 to the lips of a hungry boy. Had the exclamation not 

 been so much like slang, I would have cried " Next ! ' ' And 

 there was a "next," as sure as you live, for the little bird 

 soon flitted to another twig in the same tree and, reach- 

 ing up, daintily sipped from the dripping underside of 

 the branch just above and in front of it. Its thirst having 

 been assuaged, it flew over into the adjoining field to 

 resume its winter feast of seeds and berries. 



