IN THE NORTH COUNTRY 



family would have been quite so dear to me but 

 for a constant, loving, intimate, five-years' com- 

 panionship with two of their number I cannot 

 say; but certain it is that with each glimpse of 

 an American redbreast there come to me tender 

 memories of two dear, devoted little robin 

 friends, who not only shared our home shelter 

 and followed me affectionately about through the 

 grove refusing to accept their daily chance of 

 freedom but who were also my most sympathet- 

 ic and harmonious companions during many a 

 stroll in Canadian woods, and whose little bod- 

 ies now rest in a peaceful northern haunt near 

 which Canadian waters flow. 



" Quee-vit, quee-vit," the swallows call as they 

 dip and skim over the river. Perhaps now and 

 then to some discontented little fir-tree, longing 

 to exchange his safe forest-shelter for a place in 

 the great, uneasy world beyond, they tell of the 

 marvellous things they have seen in their jour- 

 neys over land and sea. 



Both earlier and later in the season cedar- 

 birds appear in companies among the tree-tops 

 and down near the docks, where they fly and 

 wheel over the water and dart in and out among 

 the crevices of the wharfs ; but at this season the 



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