until quite late in the season. During 

 this time he haunts the evergreen trees 

 in front of the house, coming back there 

 every evening to sleep or to seek shelter 

 from a storm, announcing his arrival 

 with lov;^ twitterings and restless games 

 of play. If one goes under the ever- 

 greens after dark and gently shakes a 

 branch there will be a slight fluttering 

 of wings and disturbed sleepy notes from 

 the j uncos. They love to feed in the 

 drive which runs in front of the house 

 and in the thickets of rose bushes that 

 creep up to the windows, coming close to 

 the veranda and eating any crumbs that 

 are thrown out for them, and even on the 

 wettest day looking trim and contented 

 and bringing with them a sense of com- 

 panionship which can be only appreciated 

 by those who have lived much alone, 

 when the different creatures come to be 

 better known than they can be where 

 there are people constantly distracting 

 the attention. 



The Kentucky cardinal, though I have 

 known it but slightly, made a very vivid 

 impression because of its gentle pensive- 

 ness. I once spent a few months in a 

 little village in Florida and flocks of 

 these exquisite creatures appeared from 

 time to time in our garden and in differ- 



ent places that we visited. They were 

 always rather tame, coming near us and 

 feeding on the ground, uttering plain- 

 tive notes that reminded me of the cedar 

 bird and which suggested a much smaller 

 bird. The cardinal's manner had some- 

 thing so sensitive and touching about it 

 that it appealed to me at once and made 

 the lovely strangers as dear as though 

 they had been known a lifetime. They 

 were never hurried or excited and I 

 never heard a cross note or saw the 

 slightest indication of any friction among 

 them; but their whole manner was 

 colored with sadness — a quiet, unobtru- 

 sive sadness. Even their song was 

 tinged with it and it was curious 

 how these brilliant creatures left on the 

 mind a sense of ''going quietly" and 

 being subdued, which made them the 

 greatest contrast to the absurd redwinged 

 black birds with whom they often shared 

 the umbrella tree. 



Hundreds of other instances of bird 

 character crowd into the mind, as one 

 writes, and the air seems again full of 

 airy creatures each with his or her small 

 personality standing out from all the rest 

 in bright contrast, some grave, some gay, 

 some cross, and others kind, but all 

 beautiful and full of interest. 



Louise Claude. 



Frowning, the owl in the oak complained him 

 Sore, that the song of the robin restrained him 

 Wrongly of slumber, rudely of rest. 



"From the north, from the east, from the south and the west, 

 Woodland, wheat-field, corn-field, clover, 

 Over and over and over and over. 

 Five o'clock, ten o'clock, twelve or seven, 

 Nothing but robin-songs heard under heaven : 

 How can we sleep?" 



— Sidney Lanier, ''Owl Against Robin." 



