A WINTER SUNRISE. j 



insects, were not only active but alert, and as 

 "difficult to capture as I had ever found them. 

 Actual sluggishness characterized the frogs only, 

 and yet these creatures are supposed to be less 

 susceptible to cold than all the others. The 

 truth is, the winter habits of every form of life 

 are little known, and what impressions, if any, 

 most have upon the subject are more or less er- 

 roneous. We have had no winter as yet, but 

 the same conditions that I found to-day were 

 true of the ditch-dwellers last year and the year 

 before, when we had not only winter, but winter 

 intensified. 



I did not enumerate the many birds aright 

 as I approached the hillside. My attention was 

 suddenly called from the ditch to the green-brier 

 thicket beyond by a familiar sound, yet which 

 now, late in January, seemed quite out of place if 

 not out of tune and harsh. It was the queru- 

 lous cry of a cat-bird. This familiar thrush is no 

 rara avis at such a time, although probably in 

 Audubon's day few if any remained in New Jer- 

 sey during the winter. No author makes men- 

 tion, I believe, of such an occurrence. The 

 number seen each winter gradually increases, 

 and the disposition to remain affects apparently 

 these birds over a steadily extending area. So, 

 at least, from correspondence, I am led to be- 

 lieve. 



