POAETQUISSINGS IN WINTER. 68 



tering white that is tempting to the lover of a winter 

 walk. The crooked elms and bending birches, droop- 

 ing beneath burdens of snow-lined branches, hem in on 

 either side the hidden stream, and nothing that vent- 

 ures abroad can well escape our notice. But what does 

 venture abroad ? A few winter birds, of course, and it 

 well repays one to watch such when the ground is cov- 

 ered with a foot of snow. The nuthatches are probably 

 the most prominent bird-feature of the tall trees. These, 

 with the brown tree-creeper, scatter the snow from the 

 rough bark, and, peeping beneath the upturned edges 

 of semi-detached pieces, find food, and chatter about it 

 almost incessantly. During such snowy days great 

 flocks of cedar-birds settle on the tall trees near Poaet- 

 quissings, and add an attractive feature to the scene. 

 They are called chatterers by some, but they make lit- 

 tle noise, and only when they take flight do they call 

 attention to themselves by the lisping twitter that they 

 utter as they start. But if the woods appear compara- 

 tively deserted after a deep snow, it does not follow that 

 they are really so. During a recent ramble, I purposely 

 left the monotonous surface of the creek, and clambered 

 about the bushes that clustered between the trees upon 

 the creek bank. Looking up into the branches of every 

 tree as I passed it, I soon spied something worth miles 

 of walking to catch a sight of. On a thrifty maple, sit- 

 ting close to the main stem of the tree, sat a great gray 

 owl, the largest of all our birds of this family. I stood 

 and stared ■ he sat and blinked ; and then, roused by 

 ray demonstrations of attack, the great bird spread his 

 wings, and, without a trace of sound, sailed majestically 



