ZERO BIRDS 33 
tain to a broken-down rail fence, where grew a thicket 
of tiny trees with smooth trunks, whose gray twigs 
were laden down with bunches of what looked like 
tiny purple plums. Each one had a layer of pulp over 
a flat stone, and this pulp, what there was of it, had a 
curious attractive spicy sugary taste. The Captain 
told the Band that these were nanny-plums, some- 
times known as sweet viburnum. Further on, they 
found clusters of little purple fox-grapes, fiercely 
sour in the fall, but now sweetened enough, under 
the bite of the frost, to be swallowed. 
Still the Captain was not ready to stop. Up the 
hillside he led them, by a winding path through 
tangled thickets, until in a level place he brought 
them to a group of curious trees. The bark of these 
was deeply grooved and in places nearly three inches 
thick, while the branches were covered with scores 
and scores of golden-red globes. Some were wrinkled 
and frost-bitten until they had turned brown, but 
others still hung plump and bright in the winter air. 
It was a grove of persimmon trees. Before he could 
be stopped, Henny-Penny had picked one of the best- 
looking of the lot and took a deep bite out of the soft 
pulp. Immediately thereafter he spat out his first 
taste of persimmon with great emphasis, his mouth 
so puckered that it was with difficulty that he could 
express his unfavorable opinion of the new fruit. 
‘““Handsome is as handsome does,”’ warned the 
Captain. “Try some of the frost-bitten ones.” 
The Band accordingly did so, and found that the 
worst-looking and most wrinkled specimens were 
