The grosbeak has a cousin smaller than himself and rarer, that is equally interesting, the American red crossbill. During the past two years a large number of these birds have spent the months of January and February in the park, and on account of their accessibility have furnished me many interesting notes. In general coloring they closely resemble the grosbeak, but they are scarcely two thirds its size. Their crossed bills, which furnish them their common name, are their most noticeable and interesting characteristic. It is a spectacle as pretty as it is curious to see one take the seeds from the cone of a fir tree. The hooked upper mandible serves to catch hold of and tear out the seed, while the lower one is a receptacle for it. With the red crossbill is sometimes seen the white species, which is much the rarer visitant of the two. But if mention is to be made of any representative winter birds, we must notice the chickadee. A rugged little fellow, undaunted, though the weather be ever so cold, he salutes us almost everywhere, and as he passes busily from tree to tree, seeking his sustenance, he makes his little remarks in a business-like way, occasionally approaching his admirer with a confidential message, which he rattles off and then flits away to join some _bon camarade_. The chickadees, on account of their excellent temper and character, make many friends, and we frequently find nuthatchers, kinglets, sparrows, and other small birds about with them. [Illustration: Bird nest] That these birds are forced to be gregarious, in order to protect themselves from hunger and cold, is well illustrated by the fact that the snowbirds and pine linnets occasionally swoop down upon us in flocks of two to three hundred. If one searches the wooded hills at some distance from the town, rarer species of owls and the like may be found with partridges, occasionally Canada jays, and during especially severe winters straggling Arctic birds. Indeed, one can hardly walk abroad without having his interest well repaid, and rare finds and new discoveries are of sufficient frequency to keep the observer enthusiastic. I think I was first attracted to these cold weather observations from selfish motives, for there was a great charm to me in walking through pathless fields of snow, and feeling, from the absence of human footprints, that no one else was seeing what I saw and enjoying what I enjoyed; and if a few days later I went over the same ground and found no tracks but my own, this pleasure was increased. There is something peculiarly fascinating in an interesting solitude. [Illustration: Decoration] A NEW YEAR’S LEGACY. A NEW YEAR’S LEGACY. JOHN H. BARTLETT. [Illustrations by F. H. Trow.]