were in no haste to leave it, even after 

 they had departed. So we perched our- 

 selves on top of an old rail fence, and 

 waited for some birds to come to us and 

 be looked at. We hadn't been there 

 very long before some tufted titmice 

 came into the trees near us, and de- 

 lighted us with their cheery notes and 

 cunning ways. The "caw" of the crows 

 was quite loud here and, with the added 

 notes of the woodpeckers and chicka- 

 dees, made it quite lively. Every once 

 in a while a few drops of rain would 

 fall. But this only added to the wild- 

 ness of our surroundings, and seemed 

 to put us farther away from the rest of 

 the world. 



Though we found our rural perch 

 very enjoyable, we felt obliged to move 

 on again, however reluctantly. So we 

 crossed the bridge and climbed the hill 

 beyond. A short walk then brought us 

 to another turn, to the right, but on the 

 left an open gate into the woods. 



We lost no time in turning in here, 

 you may be sure. We found many 

 more birds inside the woods than we 

 had along the road. Here were tit- 

 mice, chickadees, plenty of nut-hatches 

 white - breasted; hairy and downy 

 woodpeckers, and also a third kind that 

 we were uncertain about. Its upper 

 parts looked like black and white shep- 

 herd's plaid, and the back of its head 

 and nape were deep red. Its note was 

 a sonorous coiv-cozv- cow-cow- cow. We 

 heard brown creepers about, and saw 

 many flocks of juncos. 



When we came to the end of the 

 woods we saw a pair of our cardinals 

 flying about some low brushwood. It 

 was like seeing old friends. 



I must not forget to mention the blue- 

 jay, who added his voice and brilliant 

 color to the pleasure of our walk. 



We had entered a cornfield, and as we 

 advanced, flocks of little birds, mostly 

 juncos, would start up before us and 

 fly into the hedge or next field, twitter- 

 ing gaily. Twice we heard distinctly 

 the goldfinch's note; but as the birds 

 all flew up at our approach, we couldn't 

 get near enough to distinguish them. 

 It seemed very odd to hear this sum- 

 mery note amidst that wintry scene. 



We crossed the cornfield and came to 

 a fence, at right angles, following 



which took us in the direction of the 

 road. Just as we came up to a few 

 scattered trees, part in the field, and 

 part in the pastures on the other side 

 of the fence, we again heard our medley 

 chorus of many voices, some of which 

 had reminded us of the meadowlark's. 

 The members of the chorus who 

 proved to be the meadowlarks' cousins, 

 the rusty blackbirds settled in these 

 trees and gave us a selection in their 

 best style. Some of the solo parts were 

 really s.weet. 



After climbing a rail fence we crossed 

 a small pasture and looked in vain for 

 a gate. Nothing but barbed wire. We 

 finally made our escape through a pigs' 

 corn-pen, from whence we emerged into 

 another pasture where the grass was 

 like the softest carpet to our feet. 

 This pasture had a gate opening onto 

 the road; so we were very soon back 

 again at the house, with appetites for 

 dinner fully developed. 



We saw and heard no less than four- 

 teen different kinds of birds during our 

 walk. So those who desire to see birds 

 need not despair of finding them be- 

 cause it is winter. Nature always has 

 plenty of beautiful things to show us, 

 no matter what the time of year. 



My story ought to end here, but I 

 must tell you about the tufted "tits" we 

 saw next morning. The weather turned 

 very cold that night, and in the morn- 

 ing a keen wind was blowing, so we 

 didn't think many birds would be about. 

 But hearing some chickadees in the 

 yard, we ventured out, and went across 

 the road, where we sat down in the 

 shelter of a large corncrib. 



From here we saw plenty of chicka- 

 dees, titmice, nut-hatches, and other 

 woodpeckers busily engaged in hunting 

 their breakfasts. We had a fine op- 

 portunity of studying them with our 

 glasses. 



One bold "tit" stole a grain of corn 

 from the crib and carried it off to the 

 tree in front of us, where he took it in 

 his claw, and proceeded to pick the 

 choicest morsel out of it. Presentl)' 

 another tufted rogue flew up and there 

 were some "passages of arms," and a 

 flight into another tree, and in the 

 midst of the fra\-, alas! the corn was 

 dropped. 



91 



