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"Hardly, Peter," replied he. "We like the seeds of the birches and the alders, and we eat the seeds of the evergreen trees when we get them. Sometimes we find them in cones Snipper the Crossbill has opened but hasn't picked all the seeds out of. Sometimes he drops some for us. Oh, we always manage to get plenty to eat. There are some of our relatives over there and we must join them.
"And I don't see how I would get my food if I didn't have a bill like this," retorted Snipper. Then, seeing how puzzled Peter really was, he went on to explain. "You see, I live very largely on the seeds that grow in pine cones and the cones of other trees. Of course I eat some other food, such as seeds and buds of trees.
They don't flit or hop, but just climb around. I don't know of any other bird anywhere around here that does that." Just then a seed dropped and landed on the snow almost in front of Peter's nose. Almost at once Snipper himself followed it, picking it up and eating it with as much unconcern as if Peter and Jumper were a mile away instead of only a foot or so.
Busily at work on a pine cone near the top of a tree was a bird about the size of Bully the English Sparrow. He was dressed wholly in dull red with brownish-black wings and tail. "What did I tell you?" cried Jumper. "There's Snipper this very minute, and over in that next tree are a lot of his family and relatives. See in what a funny way they climb about among the branches.
Jokeing a side Al I guess you won't be supprised to hear how I have picked up in the riffle practice and I knew right along that I couldn't hardly help from being a A No. 1 marksman because a man that had almost perfect control in pitching you might say would be bound to shoot straight when they got the hang of it and don't be supprised if I write you 1 of these days that I been appointed a snipper that sets up in a tree somewheres and picks off the boshs whenever they stick their head up and they call them snippers so pretty soon my name is libel to be Jake Snipe instead of Jack Keefe, but seriously Al I can pick off them targets like they was cherrys or something and maybe I won't half to go in the trenchs at all.
Depths are from 15 to 35 fathoms over a broken and rocky bottom. It is a good lobster ground and chiefly a small-boat ground. Otter Island Reef; Snipper Shin; Western Reef. These are names applied to different sections of an irregular, broken piece of rocky ground about halfway between Vinalhaven and Seal Island.
"Cousin Peter was just saying that he should think I would find it lonesome over here in the Green Forest. He forgot that you and Mrs. Grouse stay all winter, and he forgot that while most of the birds who spent the summer here have left, there are others who come down from the Far North to take their place." "Who, for instance?" demanded Peter. "Snipper the Crossbill," replied Jumper promptly.
He looked pleased at Peter's exclamation. "I'm glad you think I'm pretty," said he. "I like pink myself. I like it very much indeed. I suppose you've already seen my friends, Snipper the Crossbill and Piny the Grosbeak." Peter promptly bobbed his head. "I've just come from making their acquaintance," said he. "By the way you speak, I presume you also are from the Far North.
The very first thing Peter noticed was Snipper's bill. The upper and lower halves crossed at the tips. That bill looked very much as if Snipper had struck something hard and twisted the tips over. "Have have you met with an accident?" he asked a bit hesitatingly. Snipper looked surprised. "Are you talking to me?" he asked. "Whatever put such an idea into your head?"
But it don't seem fair to make love to them and pertend like I was nuts over them and then when I had learned all they was to know I would half to get rid of them and cast them to 1 side and god knows how many wounds I will leave behind me but probably as many as though I was a regular soldier or snipper but then I wouldn't feel so bad about it because it would be men and not girlies but everything goes in war fair as they say Al and if Uncle Sam and Gen.
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