The small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the fullness of their revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to bush, and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety around them. There was the honest cock robin, the favorite game of stripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note; and the twittering blackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker, with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage; and the cedar bird, with its red-tipped wings and yellow-tipped tail, and its little Monteiro cap of feathers;and the bluejay, that noisy coxcomb, in his gay light-blue coat and white undercloths; screaming and chattering, nodding and bobbing and bowing, and pretending to be on good terms with every songster of the grove.