The Witchery of Winter 89 



needs are never many, and I have no sense 

 of want when " fun in feathers," the 

 crested tit, bears me company. We met 

 this morning at the three beeches, and wan- 

 dered together down the wood road to the 

 edge of the meadow. I have been walking 

 here for so many years there is danger of 

 repetition if I mention to-day ; but no, 

 Nature is never a repetition. The fault lies 

 with ourselves if this is apparently true. 

 Nature cares nothing for us, and we must 

 force her to smile if we would be at all 

 favored. The wind has other errands than 

 to whistle for our amusement ; no storm 

 ever passed by on the other side because of 

 our presence. All that we learn comes from 

 our own efforts ; we must wrest Nature's 

 secrets from her ; she neither invites us nor 

 volunteers any information. Every day has 

 its own history, and the friends of yester- 

 day are often more companionable to-day. 

 Certainly my jolly, crested tit has gained 

 since first we met, and now is nearer per- 

 feftion than ever before. I am sure of this, 

 and yet much may be due to a clearer insight 

 as to what a bird really is. Is my compan- 

 ion bird ever convinced I have no weapon 



