other one in his mouth and then returned to his post, while she
followed his example. Both chirped and pronounced the berries good,
though up to that time the members of the household had supposed they
were poisonous. After a few more bites of the morning meal the birds went
all around the house, inspecting every nook and crevice. But they found
every place fully occupied by the pestiferous English sparrows, who
darted at them maliciously. For two whole days the blue birds stayed
around the lawn and garden, but the sparrows made their lives miserable
and finally they went to the timber an eighth of a mile away and selected
an abiding place in the cavity of a basswood. But every morning and
evening, sometimes many times during the day, they came for their meal of
berries from the vine. Usually they were on hand as soon as the sun was
up, and a more devoted and well behaved couple was never seen either in
the bird or the human world.

* * * * *

We rise at length and walk along the wooded slope admiring new beauties
at every step. Here is a thicket of wild gooseberry filled with dark
green leaves and the tinkling notes of tree sparrows, and we hardly know
which is the more beautiful. A little farther and we are in a tangle of
pink and magenta raspberry vines from which the green leaves are just
pushing out. The elder has made a great start; the yellowish-green shoots
from the stems and from the roots are already more than six inches long.
The panicled dogwood and the red-osier dogwood (no, not the flowering
dogwood) as yet show no signs of foliage, but the fine white lines in the
bark of the bladdernut, which have been so attractive all winter, are now
enhanced by the soft myrtle green of the tender young leaves. The shrubby
red cedar is twice as fresh and green as it was a month ago, as it hangs
down the face of the splintered rock where the farmer boys have set a
trap to catch the mother mink. But Mrs. Mink is wary. Here is a pile of
feathers, evidently from a wild duck, which seems to indicate that while
the duck was making a meal of a fish which she had brought to shore, the
mink pounced upon her and ate both duck and fish.

While we stand looking there is a slight movement among the roots of a
silver maple at the river's brink. A moment later Mrs. Mink comes around
the tree and towards us. She is about eighteen inches long, with a bushy
tail about another eight inches, her blackish-bro