The Birds’ Calendar 
In the strong contrast of its plumage to the 
snow and the bare branches, the cardinal seems 
like a breath of warm air, as it floats hither and 
thither in the wintry landscape. Yet one soon 
learns to look upon it as an admirable rather 
than a lovable bird—ornamental, like a piece of 
bric-a-brac with which one comes into no vital 
touch—cold and unemotional as its December 
surroundings, and if not distinctly unfriendly 
to its humbler fellows, yet plainly showing its 
haughty instincts. It seems to be a great con- 
descension for it to step upon the ground; and 
as for running about on the grass, like the robin 
and sparrow, such a thing would be scandalously 
disreputable. There are many other birds that 
avoid the ground just as much as the cardinal. 
It is not the height at which a bird lives in the 
world that is the point in question, but its aris- 
tocratic or democratic instinct. 
The cardinal’s song is especially disappoint- 
ing, for there are such possibilities in the full, 
rich tone that do not begin to be realized. 
Commencing with a clear and magnificent whis- 
tle, several times repeated, like a preliminary 
flourish, you are on the guz vive for a glorious 
performance—and there he stops! Either the 
mind or the heart (perhaps both) is lacking to 
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