catch in your hand the smallest of all our owls, for the saw-whet is a
dreadfully sleepy fellow in the daytime. I knew of eleven of these little
gray gnomes dozing in a clump of five small cedars.

The cedars are treasure-houses in winter, and many birds find shelter
among the thick foliage, and feast upon the plentiful supply of berries,
when elsewhere there seems little that could keep a bird's life in its
body. When the tinkling of breaking icicles is taken up by the wind and
re-echoed from the tops of the cedars, you may know that a flock of purple
finches is near, and so greedy and busy are they that you may approach
within a few feet. These birds are unfortunately named, as there is
nothing purple about their plumage. The males are a delicate rose-red,
while the females look like commonplace sparrows, streaked all over with
black and brown.

There are other winter birds, whose home is in the North, with a similar
type of coloration. Among the pines you may see a flock of birds, as large
as a sparrow, with strange-looking beaks. The tips of the two mandibles
are long, curved, and pointed, crossing each other at their ends. This
looks like a deformity, but is in reality a splendid cone-opener and
seed-extracter. These birds are the crossbills.

Even in the cold of a February day, we may, on very rare occasions, be
fortunate enough to hear unexpected sounds, such as the rattle of a belted
kingfisher, or the croak of a night heron; for these birds linger until
every bit of pond or lake is sealed with ice; and when a thaw comes, a
lonely bat may surprise us with a short flight through the frosty air,
before it returns to its winter's trance.

Of course, in the vicinity of our towns and cities, the most noticeable
birds at this season of the year (as indeed at all seasons) are the
English sparrows and (at least near New York City) the starlings, those
two foreigners which have wrought such havoc among our native birds. Their
mingled flocks fly up, not only from garbage piles and gutters, but from
the thickets and fields which should be filled with our sweet-voiced
American birds. It is no small matter for man heedlessly to interfere with
Nature. What may be a harmless, or even useful, bird in its native land
may prove a terrible scourge when introduced where there are no enemies to
keep it in check. Nature is doing her best to even matters by letting
albinism run riot among the sparrows, and best of all by teaching s