a large rock. Finally at the Painter Road, to which I had now come, it turned and lost itself in a field.
     The sky was again becoming covered with grey cold clouds and the wind was still blowing - a steady unceasing rush of air that stirred trees, grass and leaves to life. As I stumbled over the frozen ruts, I heard what I thought were two English sparrows in a tree ahead of me, close to the road.
     “Chirp?” cried one.
     “Sdee, Sdee.” answered the other.
     Surely, I thought there were no English sparrows out here in the woods. As I neared the tree a bird flew out and disappeared up the road as I came closer another one, a greyish brown little creature, flutterly out angrily, but did not follow his mate alighting on a small sapling close to the road. I paused opposite the sapling; it was a song-sparrow! How he seemed to tremble with rage as he darted back and forth on the limb, his bright black eyes watching me questionally, he brown and white speckled breast ruffled up and his tail bobbing up and down in his excitement! Further on up the road one of his fellows broke into song - a sweet song - but he still continued to be angry, until I walked on, at which he flew ahead, disappearing in some underbrush. Suddenly