12 
BIRDS OF THE SEASON 
melting snows revealed the litter of the past season's 
vegetation. The uncovered ground was thawing in 
exposed places ; and the root leaves of the Asters 
showed bright and green under the receding edges of 
the icy covering. 
But this did not seem a satisfying assurance of 
spring to the new arrivals. They perched restlessly 
on the dead Mullen stalks, and flew timidly back 
and forth among the entangled thickets of Oak and 
Hawthorn. The rich blue of their plumage contrasted 
alternately with the broad expanse of snow and the 
patches of naked ground on the hillside. Bright sun- 
light deepened the dull red of their breasts. The 
spirit of spring seemed struggling for recognition, 
but they would not respond with a single note. The 
sun beamed on them, and traced distinct shadows on 
the darling snow, but they refused the slightest 
responsive sound. A whistled call they treated with 
absolute indifference. Evidently their day of song was 
away in the future. But, silent and dissatisfied, they 
were still welcome, and fancy supplied the song that 
will be heard in the suburban orchards and along the 
country roads when the season fulfills its mission. 
More responsive is the Horned Lark, for he often 
remains throughout the winter. His vocal notes may 
be heard as he makes his undulating way over the 
snow-covered fields. Like the Bluebird, he is midway 
in size between the Sparrow and the Robin, but 
