The daily morning journal and courier., 1902-02-01

was comcal to be sold. His look of irri-
 tation was gone almost before my loot
 reached the ground; he sat bolt upright
 on his hind legs and clasped his white
 breast with one little red paw, his whole
 expression saying more plainly than
 words, Good gracious! How you did
 startle mel" Then with terrified
 squeab in which the terror was more
 feigned than real imagine, he whisked
 out of sight through a knot hole, and l
 left him to his own reflections
 The sun had come out and was all
 ready playing havoc with the beauty Of
 the snow effects. The deep silence
 which had been so noticeable when l
 first set out was no longer felt, for the
 continuous falling of a myriad tufts of
 snow from twig and branch produced a
 faint but perfectly audible murmur,
 like the dying away of wind amonsse
 the trees On coming to the top of a little hill l heard a tapping sound, not 1 the rolling tattoo of a woodpecker, but 1 a strong measured beat as of some one
 driving nails. After creeping cautious 1 ly forward in the direction of the sound l discovered the author of it upon a horizontal branch of a maple tree. It was a bluejay, and he was hammering
 with his bill upon some object which he
 held firmly beneath his feet. With his
 eye fixed steadily on the mark, he
 raised his head well in the air, and brought the point of his bill to bear
 with astonishing force. His handsome
 crest was raised and he was giving his l whole attention to the work. In my l eagerness to see what he was working | at, I showed myself too suddenly and he seized his precious something" in his bill and flew away. l hurried to the edge of the wood and saw him, a
 brave sight in his bright blue plumage, sailing in the sunlight, over the snow covered fields of the valley below. The object he was hammering at was prob- ably a chestnut or an acorn, which he was in the act of opening to get at the kernel. All blue jays open nuts in this way; when they can find convenient crevice in fence post or in the bark of a tree, they wedge it into that, be- fore attempting to break through the leathery covering, but otherwise they hold it tight with their feet as this one was doing.
 As I passed down the hillside I heard from the corner of a field where the weedstalks stood out above the snow, one of the sweetest sounds I ever hear in winter,--the chorus of the tree spar rows, musical-crystaline There in a flock were these little modest plainly clad birds working away amongst the seed pods on the withered weeds, and singing as they worked. Hither and thither they flew, not in a body, but each as his fancy pleased him. Now they were near to me; now farther away, but ever, as they faced me, the little black spot upon the white breast of each served to show to what clan he belonged.
 It was yet early in the day, but still time for me to return, and as usual I chose different route from that by which had come. My nearest way was a short cut through swamp now frozen over and covered with snow. Here were many footprints of crows and other birds, each print the exact | counterpart of tiny snow shoe. In | some places these footprints were very | and close together and sug- | gested the idea that a band of fairy | had assembled there for a midnight frolic. I was passing gnarled | gnarled old willow tree, when the some- what unusual growth of the stump of a branch caused me to give it a second , glance. It grew from the upper side of a larger branch, quite near, and parallel to, the trunk. I looked and turned away and looked again, and this time there was no mistake about it. it was not stump at all, but very fine specimen of the long-eared owl. There he stood ear-tufts and all bolt up- right, with his motsed plumage match ng almost exactly in appearance the ribbed bark of the old tree. His eyes were closed and his feathers drawn close to his body. He allowed me to walk up to him and I might have taken 1im in my hand had I wished to do so. No doubt he knew that I was near him, put he chose to rely upon his wonderful coloring to hide him, rather han call attention to his presence by aking wing. But inanimate as he ooked, what a change would come 'ver him at dusk, the dawn of his day. II imagination I could see him all alert lnd with glowing yellow eyes turn his lead now this way, now that and then, liter giving his soft pIumage final hake, pass, silent as q puff of smoke nto the night
 ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES.
 l