THE TERRORS OF THE WINTER. 269 



usual habits for a time, and pick up a living near 

 the dwellings of man. A continued frost is far 

 worse than the heaviest fall of snow ; and I always 

 welcome the break-up of the spell of hard weather, 

 for I know what sad havoc it works in the ranks 

 of my feathered favourites. 



With the return of milder weather, the moping, 

 weakly birds soon become merry, and active, and 

 strong again. Their sadness is short-lived ; 

 Nature abhors continued sorrow, and it is sur- 

 prising how quickly birds, and animals too, get 

 into good condition again as soon as the season of 

 adversity is past. The frost releases its iron grip 

 of the fields and streams, the long icicles melt like 

 magic, and the swamps relapse into their normal 

 state of sponginess again. Then, perhaps, ensues 

 a week or so of really mild, genial weather. 

 Winter is not all terrors all ice, and frost, and 

 snow ; there are brief intervals of spring-like 

 balminess, when the air is mild and the sun- 

 shine warm. On these fitful days the Thrushes 

 pipe a few notes, and an occasional Skylark soars 

 upwards into the blue sky to try over its matin 

 song, to keep itself in tune until the spring. 

 Many other birds assume unwonted activity ; 

 wild animals are full of joy once more, those 

 doirmant ones that sleep the lightest often coming 

 out into the sunshine, but returning to their warm 

 winter nests at the renewal of the frost. 



But the winter is not over ; the snowstorms 

 and the frosts, the pitiless showers of hail and 



