over the ground. Then it cleared up, and the sun shone; but the sun
hasn't much power at that time of the year, so it did not melt the snow.
It was bitter cold by day, and worse at night. The birds that eat grubs
and insects could not get any food at all. So your grandma had a big
lump of fat put into a piece of coarse netting, and it was hung up in a
likely place--the long branch of a tree--where the birds could get well
at it. You should have seen the poor creatures pecking away! It was soon
gone, and we had to put more lumps into the net before the frost went. I
thought to myself it was almost a pity to try to save their lives; it
was just a natural way of getting rid of a lot of them. They do say that
dying by cold is an easy way--it's like going to sleep; so I'm not
wishing any great harm to the little things. And now, Master Jack, how
do you think these birds paid back your grandma for all her kindness?
Why, as soon as ever the frost was gone, and the weather became warmer,
and the yellow crocuses came into bloom, if these very birds, or some of
them at least, did not slit the flowers all to pieces with their
bills--that's what _they_ did. The ground was covered with bits of
flowers.--Do you know Mrs. Jones who lives on the green, Master Jack?"

"No," he said; "I don't."

"Well, she's a great friend of your grandma's; but she is not
over-strong, and doesn't get out in the winter. She likes to have the
birds about her, and she fed them on her lawn with crumbs and pieces;
and her fine bed of crocuses in front of her windows was just spoiled.
It was mostly the yellow ones that they tore to shreds; and the
primroses too--there was hardly one fit to pick. The starlings and the
sparrows were the worst; they did a lot of mischief."

"Oh," said Jack, "perhaps they were after insects, or something they