FIELD AND STUDY 



beneath the trees. I grew alarmed for the safety of 

 my crop of Windsors, and tried to "shoo" the birds 

 away. They looked down upon me as if they con- 

 sidered it a good joke. Even when we shot one, to 

 make sure of the identity of the bird, the flock only 

 flew to the next tree and went on with the snipping. 

 Beneath two cherry-trees that stood beside the high- 

 way the blossoms drifted into the wagon tracks like 

 snowflakes. I concluded that the birds had taken 

 very heavy toll of my cherries, but it turned out 

 that they had only done a little of the much-needed 

 thinning. Out of a cluster of six or eight blossoms, 

 they seldom took more than two or three, as if they 

 knew precisely what they were about, and were in- 

 tent on rendering me a service. When the robins 

 and the cedar-birds come for the cherries they are 

 not so considerate, but make a clean sweep. The 

 finches could teach them manners — and morals. 



