THe Aroostook PARTRIDGE. 
on 
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full as large as the mother bird, and we will say that it is 
the first of winter, getting along toward evening. The 
ground is frozen and covered with snow. Their food in the 
swamps is frozen and spoiled; the young clover along the 
old woods road, with the winterberry, snowberry and bunch- 
berry, are all covered with snow and the old lady must find 
them other food. 
This she knows well how to do, as she is just now leading 
them up from the brook and swamp, and across the old wood 
road to a thrifty yellow birch upon the side of the ridge, fair- 
ly loaded with buds. These from the frost are now just 
sweetening off to their taste. The old lady leading on ahead, 
stops a little away from the tree, and turns one eye up toward 
its top, steps a little to one side, and looks again. Perhaps 
this is the first time the young birds ever made a full meal off 
birch buds. Up flies the old one; all follow, one and two 
at a time. Now begins their supper. We can watch 
them and almost see their crops round out, with the quantity 
they eat; then they have finished, all seem to have enough. 
We do not want to shoot any of them, as we have plenty of 
meat at camp. Soon they are talking to each other. The 
mother bird looks around upon her now big babies, saying 
something which all understand ; squats low upon her breast, 
spreads her wings, and leaving the branch wildly swaying up 
and down, flies straight as an arrow across the old road, 
down, over the brook to the large spruce, in the evergreen 
thicket. All follow, lighting upon the same tree with the 
mother bird, all are now talking together at the same time 
without regard to etiquette, until a slight hint from Mother P, 
when they shake their wings, dress their feathers down with 
throat and bill, stretch first one leg, then the other, tak> 
