1 1 6 IN BIRD LAND 



X. 



WHERE BIRDS ROOST. 



ONE winter evening found me tramping through 

 a swamp not far from my home, listening 

 to the dulcet trills of the song-sparrows, which had 

 recently returned from a brief visit to a more south- 

 ern latitude. There was no snow on the ground, 

 and the day had been pleasant ; but, as evening 

 approached, the west wind blew raw across the 

 fields. For some reason which I cannot now re- 

 call, an impulse seized me to clamber over the 

 fence into the adjacent meadow, where I stalked 

 about somewhat aimlessly for a minute or two, little 

 thinking that I was on the eve of a discovery, — one 

 that was destined to lead me into a delightful field 

 of investigation. 



The ground was rather soggy, but a pair of tall 

 rubber boots make one indifferent to mire and 

 mud. The dusk was now gathering rapidly, and 

 it was time for most birds to go to bed. I soon 

 found, too, that they were going to bed, and, more- 

 over, were taking lodgings in the most unexpected 

 quarters. Imagine my surprise when, as I trudged 

 about, the little tree-sparrows, which are winter 



