66 DATS OUT OF DOORS. 



snow and wind, they cracked and were destroyed. Was it 

 that the gradual pressure of the snow prevented the disas- 

 ter that my more sudden bending caused ? 



While I rejoiced at having my woodland still intact, 

 there was one aggravating feature about it all. I antici- 

 pated a harvest of dead limbs for my andirons ; but they 

 too withstood the tempest. To-day they looked down at 

 me with a tantalizing " no-you-don't " expression that 

 robbed me of half the pleasure of seeing one old black 

 alder still with a few of its crimson berries resting upon 

 a dazzling drift of unstained snow. 



I was concerned, too, about the many birds that had 

 sung so suggestively of spring on this same wooded slope 

 two days before the storm. They surely had had no 

 warning of the danger at hand, and now I had occasional 

 glimpses of many as they were borne by me with fearful 

 velocity. They seemed at times struggling to rise above 

 the trees, as though aware of the danger of being dashed 

 Against them. Snow-birds, pine-finches, tree-sparrows, 

 bluebirds, robins, song-sparrows, and the crows were the 

 several kinds that I could positively identify; and all 

 were equally unable to find a resting-place. 



Once there was a decided lull, lasting perhaps for five 

 minutes, and in that brief time the courage of a few tem- 

 pest-tossed bluebirds seemed to return. Though the air 

 was still thick with snow, and every branch of every tree 

 in motion, I heard these brave birds sing ! Only a few 

 most melancholy notes they uttered, it is true, but full of 

 suggestion. Songsters they that merit a poem in their 

 honor! I first caught a glimpse of them among the 

 sweeping branches of the pines, and then saw them reach, 

 after much effort, the snow-laden cedars, but it was not to 

 find rest and shelter therein. A moment later the wind 

 with redoubled fury struck the trees and they were lost in 

 an avalanche. One enormous snowbank toppled over and 



