64 THE CROSS-BILL AND THE LITTLE WARBLER. 
the wild turkeys strut about and feast upon 
the acorns. The forests of beech are much 
darker, and the sullen pine forest is darker 
still. 
The pines, clad in their heavy fohage, stand 
like sentinels to guard every avenue, lest the 
bright eye of day should peep into their soli- 
tude ; and the winter snow rests upon their 
evergreen branches, as on a shield, and rarely 
touches the ground. Here, summer and winter 
are alike lonely ; and no squirrels are to be 
found except they happen to be passing on 
their annual excursion. But a few birds 
come, every year, to the pine forests, and live 
upon the seeds that they pick out of the fir 
cones ; and I must tell you a little about 
them. 
There is a bird yonder, with such a curious 
bill, you might think it was deformed. The 
two parts of the bill, instead of fitting together, 
cross each other ; and you wonder hoW he can 
gain his living with such a mis-shapen tool to 
work with. He is called the cross-bill ; and 
his odd-looking beak is given him that he 
may more easily detach the seeds from the fir 
cones. He grasps the cone with his foot, and 
