34 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 



there, under the boughs, corn is kept for them 

 on barrels and boxes. On the other side of the 

 house, in front of the dining-room window, is a 

 similar store for the blue jays and gray squirrels ; 

 and as they sometimes visit the partridges' table, 

 the latter often fly around the house to see if the 

 squirrels' corn tastes any better than theirs. 



The first snowy morning they appear we have 

 to peek through the shutters very cautiously, for 

 they are painfully shy, crouching in the- snow, lis- 

 tening tremulously to the least sound from the 

 house, looking about every time they pick up a 

 kernel of corn, and whirring off back to their 

 evergreens if a window or blind chances to be 

 thrown open. But they soon lose their fears, and 

 some mornings we find their pretty footprints in 

 the snow on the piazza. 



One winter they seemed to show a fondness for 

 music, often coming close to the house as I was 

 playing the piano. Indeed they and the squirrels 

 must both have followed the Pied Piper of Hame- 

 lin the squirrels not only nibble their corn with 

 complacent satisfaction when the music box is 

 wound for them, but have even let themselves be 

 stroked when a peculiarly pathetic air was whis- 

 tled! Who dare say what forest concerts the 

 pretty creatures may get up on the long winter 

 evenings when they are tired frolicking on the 

 moonlit snow! 



Still the partridges seem to like the bright red 



