d orange on the breast
and back, shading into greenish olive and brown; the other more like our
yellowhammer, only it is not quite so bright in colour, though much
softer, and more innocent-looking: they come to our windows and doors in
the winter as familiarly as your robins. During the winter most of our
birds depart; even the hollow tapping of the red-headed and the small
speckled grey and white woodpecker ceases to be heard; the sharp
chittering of the squirrel, too, is seldomer distinguished; and silence,
awful and unbroken silence, reigns in the forest during the season of
midwinter.

I had well nigh forgotten my little favourites, a species of the
titmouse, that does not entirely forsake us. Of a bright warm, sunny day
we see flocks of these tiny birds swinging among the feathery sprigs of
the hemlocks or shrubby pines on the plains or in the forest; and many a
time have I stayed my steps to watch their playful frolics, and listen
to their gay warbling. I am not quite certain, but I think this is the
same little bird that is known among the natives by the name of Thit-a-
be-bee; its note, though weak, and with few changes, is not unpleasing;
and we prize it from its being almost the only bird that sings during
the winter.

I had heard much of the snow-bunting, but never had seen it till the
other day, and then not near enough to mark its form or colours. The day
was one of uncommon brilliancy; the sky cloudless, and the air almost
warm; when, looking towards the lake, I was surprised by the appearance
of one of the pine-trees near the shore: it seemed as if covered with
stars of silver that twinkled and sparkled against the blue sky. I was
so charmed by the novelty, that I ran out to observe them nearer; when,
to my surprise, my stars all took flight to another tree, where, by the
constant waving and fluttering of their small white wings against the
sunlight, they produced the beautiful effect that had at first attracted
my observation: soon all the pines within sight of the window were
illuminated by these lovely creatures. About mid-day they went away, and
I have seen them but once since. They never lit on the ground, or any
low tree or bough, for me to examine them nearer.

Of our singing-birds, the robin; the blackbird, and a tiny bird, like
our common wren, are those I am most intimate with. The Canadian robin
is much larger than our dear robin at home; he is too coarse and large a
bird to realize the ide