St. Nicholas/Volume 32/Number 4/Nature and Science/Quails
The flock of Quail coming over the fence from the fields and alighting in the barnyard.
The Friendly Quails
One cold morning Farmer Glover stood in 
A Quail “At Home,” Down Under the Hill Back of the Farm-house.the rear of the barn, fork in hand, looking out over the fields. Snow-storm had followed snow-storm, until the stone walls were so covered that the farm seemed like a great field, with here and there a small grove to break the monotony. The cattle had been fed, and each animal was munching contentedly at its pile of hay in the sunshine, scattering chaff over the snowy barnyard.
Suddenly, from the light woods near the barn, came a startled “Bob-white!” Immediately there was an, answering call from the woods across the fields, and then another and another, and soon a flock of about twenty quail alighted cautiously on the ground, two or three rods from where Mr. Glover stood, and began picking up the seeds from the hay which the cattle had strewn over the snow. They scratched about like a flock of hens and apparently quite as much at home, and chippered away while they worked, after the fashion of tree-sparrows in the weeds down by the brook.
Farmer Glover was careful not to frighten his woodland guests, and the next morning he put out wheat for them and threw handfuls of chaff in the hay which the cattle had left. The flock returned again and again, until feeding the quails has become as much a part of the day’s routine as looking after the hens and turkeys. One cold morning, after they had eaten, the kind-hearted farmer found the whole flock huddled together under the hay, apparently enjoying the warmth. Strange to say, they never come for their food when it snows or rains. When they have breakfasted, unless frightened, they usually walk away to their favorite haunts in the grove across the fields. They never alight on the trees, but occasionally perch on the rail fence. Once or twice, when no one was in sight, they came near the house.
For six weeks the quails have enjoyed Farmer Glover’s bounty. When spring opens, their kind-hearted protector will meet them only in the fields and woods; but whenever bob-white’s musical call comes over the summer meadows it will bring pleasant memories of those winter breakfasts in the snowy barnyard. W. C. Knowles.