WHEN THE DAYS BEGIN TO LENGTHEN 



storms my hostelry boasts of snow and wind- 

 proof nooks and corners. 



Now that you understand the situation, you 

 will not wonder that I did not waste a second 

 supply of food on the veranda roof. Coming at 

 once to the evergreen branch window, I cleared 

 the sill, scattered the snow that had accumulated 

 on the boughs, and then, in the most sheltered 

 corners of the establishment, I placed abundant 

 supplies of my stores. 



You should have seen the eager crowd that 

 flocked to the feast. All day long, whenever I 

 looked out, I saw detachments of j uncos, chicka- 

 dees, pine-siskins, song-sparrows, white-crowned, 

 white-throated, and English sparrows contending 

 for the supplies, and down below, in their lattice- 

 enclosed fortress under the veranda, the disabled 

 junco and sparrow were partaking of an olla 

 podrida, the exact counterpart of the spread at 

 the Balsam Bough Tavern. 



Later in the day when the flakes no longer fell 

 and the snow had begun to harden, Madame 

 Jolie-Queue came dancing through the whitened 

 branches, scattering sprays of the glistening pow- 

 der at each touch of her nimble feet. Then, 

 springing over the porte-cochere and bounding 



[ 103] 



