In Winter-Quarters, 305 



known elsewhere in the bird-world. Very true, 

 but what of the six months of each year in the al- 

 ternately dreamy and dreary thickets of New Jer- 

 sey? Live six months on the Delaware meadows 

 and the recollection of that experience will not 

 fade away, even though you mount the shoulders 

 of a saint and peep into Paradise. 



I very vaguely recall, just now, a canal-boat trip 

 reported in a magazine. The authors went through 

 the best parts of these meadows and said there was 

 nothing to be seen between the two towns that are 

 separated by these wonderful lowlands. They were 

 not careful in reading the proof-sheets. Grant 

 them credit for meaning there is nothing, abso- 

 lutely nothing, in the town. But evidently they 

 never saw the meadows, though their eyes rested 

 upon them. It matters not. There are half a 

 hundred kinds of birds that know them well, 

 even in winter, and I bear testimony that they 

 are excellent company. Winter birds, too, have 

 an advantage over our summer contingent, in 

 that they are not " wrapped up in their babies," 

 as I heard it said of young mothers recently. No, 

 birds now are free, and how thoroughly the white- 

 it 26* 



