68 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 



He was busily scratching on the ground; he is called 

 a tree sparrow because never by any chance is he 

 found in a tree. On the side of a white-oak tree a bit 

 of bark seemed to move upward in a spiral, and I 

 recognized the brown creeper, the last of the climbers. 

 He went up the tree in a series of tiny hops and then, 

 true to his training, flew down and started up again. 



As I turned the curve by Lower Mill, I saw in a 

 thicket near the dam a number of white-throated 

 sparrows, with their striped white heads and white 

 throat-patches. Near them suddenly hopped a bird 

 that ought to have been far south. It was reddish 

 brown with a long tail, and I recognized the female 

 chewink. She hopped around and scratched among 

 the leaves like a little hen, in true chewink style, 

 as if the month were April instead of January. 



I hurried around a bend in the road and heard over 

 my head a series of loud pips, much like the note of 

 an English sparrow. I looked up — and there was 

 my great adventure. A little locust tree was filled 

 with a flock of plump, large birds. At first I thought 

 that they were cedar birds, but in a moment I caught 

 sight of their coloring. Six of the males out of the 

 flock of seventy -four were in full plumage. Their 

 forked tails were velvet black. Their wings were the 

 golden white of old ivory, with a broad black edge, 

 their heads grayish black, and their breasts and 

 backs a deep, rich gold; and, strangest of all, their 

 thick beaks were of a greenish-white color. 



It was a great moment. For the first time in 

 my life I had met the evening grosbeaks, and had 



