252 BIRD PARADISE 



Crow's feathers all the night through ! Mani- 

 festly the fellow is totally undisturbed by it all. 

 He is the same old crow whether he sleeps or 

 wakes, whether it be cold or warm. He acts as 

 though he had fully learned how to make the 

 best of things, let them be what they may. Why 

 is not that alone quite a liberal education ? 



I saw this week a small flock of snow-buntings 

 having one of their bird games in the very midst 

 of the snow-storm. There was hardly sufficient 

 stress of wind to meet the requirements of one of 

 their games and yet they made full use of what 

 was proffered them. They jollied the flakes of 

 snow, whirling about among them as though they 

 were all living creatures. Some of them went 

 far up the stairway of the sky, even passing out 

 of sight among the whirling flakes. Others went 

 down to the old pasture back of the cemetery, 

 where they partook of a real feast spread bounte- 

 ously for them in one of the hedgerows there. I 

 notice they vary their winter song to suit the 

 occasion. When riding full speed on the wings 

 of the wind they use a song that almost seems to 

 be a part of the storm itself. When taking their 

 food they shape the song into a very quiet re- 



