Archive image from page 15 of Days afield on Staten Island. Days afield on Staten Island daysafieldonstat00davi Year: 1892 12 After the Snow. frog is calling, and we think of the gray December days when we heard him sing, and how all Winter he has lain securely in his cold bed. All along the hills at sunset the song-sparrows are singing, and the chew, chew, chew, of the tufted titmouse sounds from the higher trees. The sparrows are numerous mid the young growth by the fences, and hide behind the close clumps of blackberry stems, or hop so rapidly as to appear to run along the ground. Though


Archive image from page 15 of Days afield on Staten Island. Days afield on Staten Island daysafieldonstat00davi Year: 1892 12 After the Snow. frog is calling, and we think of the gray December days when we heard him sing, and how all Winter he has lain securely in his cold bed. All along the hills at sunset the song-sparrows are singing, and the chew, chew, chew, of the tufted titmouse sounds from the higher trees. The sparrows are numerous mid the young growth by the fences, and hide behind the close clumps of blackberry stems, or hop so rapidly as to appear to run along the ground. Though they quarrel sometimes most desperately, yet their present twitterings seem to indicate a great store of serenity, and you imagine that if you could always wander by these sunny hedge- rows and through the woods, nature would also bestow upon you this same mild tone.


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