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1869
THE LIBRARY

BIRDS

A MONTHLY SERIAL

ILLUSTRATED P,Y COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY

DESIGNED TO PROMOTE

KNOWLEDGE OF BIRD-LIFE

VOLUMES I AND II

CHICAGO.
Xatiri-; vSttdv Pfbllshino Compaxv

\A_=JLaScL&^Jil£=^

I'.Y

Nature vStudv Publisiiinc^. Co.

CHICAGO.

INTRODUCTION

In these volumes lovers of birds will find presented tor tlu
their natural colors, one hundred and twenty plates of the m
attractive, and interesting specimens of North American and oti
new process of color photography has enabled the publishers to ar .
wonderful result. Heretofore attempts have been made, witiT
success, by drawing, painting, lithography, etc., to produce satisf. cory ler.
sentations of our common birds, and ambitious efforts have been made, in mau)
otherwise magnificent monographs, to show the graceful forms and brilliant
plumage of the feathered families of South America, Africa, and the tropics,
Australia, and elsewhere.

In Birds the object of the publishers, in the specimens thus far figured,
has been attained. Subsequent volumes will disclose treasures of bird-life quite
unimagined by the general reader. " The continuous woods where rolls the
Oregon '' have been explored, and their most gorgeous inhabitants will face the
camera ; the birds of finest feather — home residents — will be of the company ;
and foreigners of distinguished family and plumage, from far countries, will
lend their presence, occasionally one or two of such so rare as to excite the
surprise which the Peacock might cause, were it seen for the first time by the
people of the west.

Birds will be presented, in fact, which will exemplify, for the feathered

creation, the exquisite lines of Keats, differently applied, and will be as much

of a surprise to our readers as to

" Some watcher of the skies

When a new planet swims into his ken."

Nature Study Publishing Company.

NONPAREIL.

I<tFB Size.

THE NONPAREIL.

I am called the Nonpareil be-
cause there is no other bird
equal to me.

I have many names. Some call
me the ''Painted Finch" or
'Tainted Bunting." Others call
me " The Pope," because I wear
a purple hood.

I live in a cage, eat seeds, and
am very fond of flies and spi-
ders.

Sometimes they let me out of
the cage and I fly about the
room and catch flies. I like to
catch them while they are fly-
ing:.

When I am tired I stop and
sing. There is a vase of flowers
in front of the mirror.

I fly to this vase where I can
see myself in the glass. Then
I sing as loud as I can. They
like to hear me sing.

I take a bath every day and
how I do make the water fly!

I used to live in the woods
where there were many birds
like me. We build our nests in
bushes, hedges, and low trees.
How happy we were.

My cage is pretty but I wish
I could go back to my home in
the woods.

See page 15.

. WEET warblers of the sunny hours,
) Forever on the wing,
I love thee as I love the flowers.
The sunlight and the spring.

They come like pleasant memories

In summer's joyous time,
And sing their gushing melodies.

As I would sing a rhyme.

In the green and quiet places.
Where the golden sunlight falls.

We sit with smiling faces
To list their silver calls.

And when their holy anthems
Come pealing through the air.

Our hearts leap forth to meet them
with a blessing and a prayer.

Amid the morning's fragrant dew.

Amid the mists of even,
They warble on as if they drew

Their music down from heaven.

How sweetly sounds each mellow note
Beneath the moon's pale ray.

When dying zephyrs rise and float
Like lovers' sighs away ! "

THE RESPLENDENT TROGON.

A Letter to Litttle Boys and Girls of the United States.

Is it cold where you live,
little boys and girls ? It is not
where I live. Don't you think
my feathers grew in the bright
sunshine ?

My home is way down where
the big oceans almost meet.
The sun is almost straight over-
head every noon.

I live in the woods, way back
where the trees are tall and
thick. I don't fly around much,
but sit on a limb of a tree w^ay
up high.

Don't you think my red breast
looks pretty among the green
leaves ?

AYhen I see a fly or a berry I
dart down after it. My long-
tail streams out behind like
four I'ibbons. I w^ish you could
see me. My tail never gets in
the way.

Wouldn't you like to have me
sit on your shoulder, little boy ?
You see my tail would reach
alm.ost to the ground.

If you went out into the street
with me on your shoulder, I

would call 'whe-oo, whe-oo, the
way I do in the woods.

All the little boys and girls
playing near would look around
and say, "What is that noise ? "
Then they would see you and
me and run up fast and say,
'^ AYhere did you get that bii'd ?"

The little girls would want to
pull out my tail feathers to put
around their hats. Y^ou would
not let them, would you ?

I have a mate. I think she is
very nice. Her tail is not so
long as mine. Would you like
to see her too? She lays eggs
every year, and sits on them till
little birds hatch out. They are
just like us, but they have to
grow and get dressed in the
pretty feathers like ours. They
look like little dumplings when
they come out of the eggs.

But they are all light. They
get very hungry and w^e carry
them lots of things to eat, so
they can grow fast.

Y'cur friend,

R. T.

R-ESPLENDENT TROGON.

% Life-size.

THE RESPLENDENT TROGON.

^ JESPLENDENT Trogons are
natives of Central America.
There are fifty kinds, and
this is the largest. A
systematic account of the superb tribe
has been given by Mr. Gould, the
only naturalist who has made him-
self fully acquainted with them.

Of all birds there are few which
excite so much admiration as the
Resplendent Trogon.

The skin is so singularly thin that
it has been not inaptly compared to
wet blotting paper, and the plumage
has so light a hold upon the skin
that when the bird is shot the feathers
are plentifully struck from their
sockets by its fall and the blows
which it receives from the branches as
it comes to the ground.

Its eggs, of a pale bluish-green,
were first procured by JNIr. Robert
Owen. Its chief home is in the
mountains near Coban in Vera Paz,
but it also inhabits forests in othei
parts of Guatemala at an elevation
of from 6,000 to 9,000 feet.

From Mr. Salvin's account of his
shooting in Vera Paz we extract the
following hunting story :

"My companions are ahead and'
Filipe comes back to say that they
have heard a quesal, (Resplendent
Trogon). Of course, being anxious
to watch as well as to shoot one of
these birds myself, I immediately
hurry to the spot. I have not to
wait long. A distant clattering
noise indicates that the bird is on
the wing. He settles — a splendid
male — on the bough of a tree not
seventy yards from where we are
hidden. It sits almost motionless on
its perch, the body remaining in the
same position, the head only moving
from side to side. The tail does not
hang quite perpendicularly, the angle

between the true tail and the vertical
being perhaps as much as fifteen or
twenty degrees. The tail is occasion-
ally jerked open and closed again,
and now and then slightly raised,
causing the long tail coverts to vibrate
gracefully, I have not seen all. A
ripe fruit catches the quesal's eye
and he darts from his perch, plucks
the berry, and returns to his former
position. This is done with a degree
of elegance that defies description. A
low whistle from Capriano calls the
bird near, and a moment afterward it is
in my hand — the first quesal I have
seen and shot."

The above anecdote is very beauti-
ful and graphic, but we read the last
sentence with pain. We wish to go
on record with this our first number
as being unreconciled to the ruthless
killing of the birds. He who said,
not a sparrow "shall fall on the
ground without your Father," did
not intend such birds to be killed, but
to beautify the earth.

The cries of the quesal are
various. They consist principally of a
low note, wlie-oo^ zuhe-oo^ which the
bird repeats, whistling it softly at
first, then gradually swelling it
into a loud and not unmelodious cry.
This is often succeeded by a long note,
which begins low and after swelling
dies away as it began. Other cries are
harsh and discordant. The flight of the
Trogon is rapid and straight. The
long tail feathers, which never seem
to be in the way, stream after him.
The bird is never found except in
forests of the loftiest trees, the
lower branches of which, being high
above the ground, seem to be its
favorite resort. Its food consists
principally of fruit, but occasionally
a caterpillar is found in its stomach.

THE MANDARIN DUCK.

A Letter from China.

Quack! Quack! T ^'ot in just
in time.

I came as fast as I could, as I
was afraid of being whipped.
You see I live in a boat with
a great many other ducks.

My master and his family live
in the boat too. Isn't that a
funny place to live in ?

We stay in all night. AYaking
up early in the morning, we cry
Quack! Quack! until we wake
the master.

He gets up and opens the gate
for us and out we tumble into
the water. We are in such a
hurry that we fall over each
other. AYe swim about awhile
and then Ave go to shore for
breakfast.

There are wet places near the
shove where we find worms,
grubs, and I'oots. When even-
ing comes the master blows a
whistle. Then we know it is
time to come home.

We start as soon as we hear
it, and hurry, because the last
duck in gets a whipping. It

does not hurt mucli but we do
not like it, so we all try to get
home first.

I have web feet, but 1 perch
like other birds on the branches
of the trees near the river.

My feathers are beautiful in
the sunlight. My wife always
sits near me. Her dress is not
like mine. It is brown and
grey.

From May to August I lose
my bright feathers, then I put
on a dress like my wife's.

My master's family are Chi-
nese, and they are very queer.
They would not sell me for
anything, as they would not
like to have me leave China.

Sometimes a pair of us are
put in a gay cage and carried to
a wedding. After the wedding
we are given to the bride and
groom.

I hear the master's whistle
again. He wants me to come in
and go to bed. Quack! Quack!
Good bye!

IrlANDARIN DUCK.
-/) X,ife-size.

THE MANDARIN DUCK.

MORE magnificently clothed
bird," says Wood, "than the
male Chinese Mandarin
Duck, can hardly be
found, wlien in health and full nuptial
plumage. They are natives of China
and Japan, and are held in such high
esteem by the Chinese that they can
hardly be obtained at any price, the
natives having a singular dislike to
seeing the birds pass into the possession
of Europeans."

Though web-footed, the birds have
the power of perching and it is a
curious sight to watch them on the
branches of trees overhanging the
pond in which they live, the male and
female being always close together,
the one gorgeous in purple, green,
white, and chestnut, and the other
soberly apparelled in brown and grey.
This handsome plumage the male
loses during four months of the year,
from May to August, \vhen he
throws off his fine crest, his wing- fans,
and all his brilliant colors, assuming
the sober tinted dress of his mate.
The Summer Duck of America bears
a close resemblance to the Mandarin
Duck, both in plumage and man-
ners, and at certain times of the year
is hardly to be distinguished from
that bird.

The foreign duck has been success-
fully reared in Zoological Gardens,
some being hatched under the parent
bird and others under a domestic hen,
the latter hatching the eggs three days
in advance of the former.

"The Chinese," says Dr. Bennett,
"highly esteem the Mardarin Duck,
which exhibits, as they think, a most
striking example of conjugal attach-
ment and fidelity. A pair of them are
frequently placed in a gaily decorated
cage and carried in their marriage
processions, to be presented to the

bride and groom as worthy objects
of emulation."

"I could more easily," wTote a friend
of Dr. Bennett's in China to whom he
had expressed his desire for a pair of
these birds, "send you two live Man-
darins than a pair of IMandarin
Ducks."

Concerning their attachment and
fidelity to one another, Dr. Bennett
recites the following :

"Mr. Beale's aviary at Maceo one
day was broken open and the male
bird stolen from the side of its mate.
She refused to be comforted, and, retir-
ing to the farthest part of the aviary,
sat disconsolate, rarely partaking of
food, and giving no attention to her
soiled and rumpled plumage. In vain
did another handsome drake endeavor
to console her for her loss. After some
time the stolen bird was found in the
quarters of a miserable Chinaman, and
at once restored to its mate. As soon
as he recognized his abode he began to
flap his wings and quack vehemently.
She heard his voice and almost
quacked to screaming with ecstacy,
both expressing their joy by crossing
necks and quacking in concert. The
next morning he fell upon the unfor-
tunate drake who had made consola-
tory advances to his mate, pecked out
his eyes and so injured him that the
poor fellow died in the course of a few
days."

According to Schrenck, this species
appears in the countries watered by
the Amoor about May, and departs
again at the end of August; at this
season it is always met with in small
or large flocks, which are so extremely
shy that they rarely come within gun-
shot. Whilst on the wing these par-
ties crowd closely together in front, the
birds in the rear occupying a compara-
tively free space.

THE GOLDEN PHEASANT

They call lue the Golden
Pheasant, because I have a
golden crest. It is like a king's
crown. Don't you think my
dress is beautiful enough for a
king?

See the large ruff around my
neck. I can raise and lower
it as I please.

I am a very large bird. I
am fourteen inches tall and
twenty-eight inches long. I
can step right over your little
robins and meadow larks and
blue jays and not touch them.

(^ HE well-known Chinese Pheas-
ant, which we have named
the Golden Pheasant, as well
as its more sober-colored
cousin, the Silver Pheasant, has its
home in Eastern Asia.

China is pre-eminently the land of
Pheasants; for, besides those just men-
tioned, several other species of the
same family are found there. Japan
comes next to China as a pheasant
country and there are some in India.
In China the Golden Pheasant is a
great favorite, not only for its splendid
plumage and elegant form, but for the
excellence of its flesh, which is said to
surpass even that of the common
pheasant. It has been introduced into
Europe, but is fitted only for the aviary.
For purposes of the table it is not
likely to come into general use, as

Sometimes people get some of
our eggs and put them under
an old hen. By and by little
pheasants hatch out, and tin
hen is very good to them. She
watches over them and feeds
them, but they do not wish to
stay with her, they like their
wild life. If they are not well
fed they will fly away.

I have a wife. Her feathers
are beginning to grow like mine.
In a few years she will look as I
do. We like to have our nests
by a fallen tree.

there are great difficulties in the way
of breeding it in sufficient numbers,
and one feels a natural repugnance to
the killing of so beautiful a bird
for the sake of eating it. The
magnificent colors belong only to the
male, the female being reddish brown,
spotted and marked with a darker hue.
The tail of the female is short. The
statement is made, however, that some
hens kept for six years by Lady Essex
gradually assumed an attire like that
of the males.

Fly-fishers highly esteem the crest
and feathers on the back of the neck
of the male, as many of the artificial
baits owe their chief beauty to the
Golden Pheasant.

According to Latham, it is called
by the Chinese Keuki, or Keukee, a
word which means g-old flower fowl.

"A merry welcome to thee, glittering bird !
Lover of summer flowers and sunny things !
A night hath passed since my young buds have heard

The music of thy rainbow-colored wings —
Wings that flash spangles out where'er they quiver,
Like sunlight rushing o'er a river."

GOLDEN PHEASANT

"/28 Life-size.

Tail somewhat shortened.

THE NONPARIEL.

.0 full of fight is this little
bird, that the bird trap-
pers take advantage of
his disposition to make
him a prisoner. They place a decoy-
bird on a cage trap in the attitude of
defease, and when it is discovered by
the bird an attack at once follows,
and the fighter soon finds himself
caught.

They are a great favorite for the
cage, being preferred by many to the
Canary. Whatever he may lack as a
songster he more than makes up by
his wonderful beauty. These birds
are very easily tamed, the female, even
in the wild state, being so gentle that
she allows herself to be lifted from the
nest. They are also called the Painted
Fincli or Painted Bunting. They are
found in our Southern States and
Mexico. They are very numerous in
the State of Louisiana and especially
about the City of New Orleans, where
they are greatly admired by the French
inhabitants, who, true to their native
instincts, admire anything with gay
colors. As the first name indicates,
he has no equal, perhaps, among the
songsters for beauty of dress. On ac-
count of this purple hood, he is called
by the French Le Pape^ meaning The
Pope.

The bird makes its appearance
in the Southern States the last of April
and, during the breeding season, which
lasts until July, two broods are raised.
The nests are made of fine grass and
rest in the crotches of twigs of the low
bushes and hedges. The eggs have a
dull or pearly-white ground and are

marked with blotches and dots of
purplish and reddish brown.

It is very pleasing to watch the
numerous changes which the feathers
undergo before the male bird attains
his full beauty of color. The young
birds of both sexes during the first
season are of a fine olive green color on
the upper parts and a pale yellow below.
The female undergoes no material
change in color except becoming
darker as she grows older. The
male, on the contrary, is three seasons
in obtaining his full variety of colors.
In the second season the blue begins
to show on his head and the red also
makes its appearance in spots on the
breast. The third year he attains his
full beauty.

Their favorite resorts are small
thickets of low trees and bushes, and
when singing they select the highest
branches of the bush. They are
passionately fond of flies and insects
and also eat seeds and rice.

Thousands of these birds are trapped
for the cage, and sold annually to our
northern people and also in Europe.
They are comparatively cheap, even in
our northern bird markets, as most of
them are exchanged for our Canaries
and imported birds that cannot be
sent directly to the south on account
of climatic conditions.

Many a northern lady, while visiting
the orange groves of Florida, becomes
enchanted with the Nonpareil in his
wild state, and some shrewd and wily
negro, hearing her expressions of
delight, easily procures one, and dis-
poses of it to her at an extravagant
price.

THE AUSTRALIAN GRASS PARRAKEET.

I am a Parrakeet. I belong
to the Parrot family. A maH
bought me and brought me here.
, It is not warm here, as it was
where I . came from. I almost
froze coming over here.

I am not kept in a cage. I
stay in the house and go about
as I please.

There is a Pussy Cat in the
house. Sometimes I ride on her
back. I like that.

I used to live in the grass
lands. It was very warm there.
I ran among the thick grass
blades, and sat on the stems and
ate seeds.

^ARRAKEETS have a great
fondness for the grass
lands, where they may be
seen in great numbers,
running amid the thick grass blades,
clinging to their stems, or feeding on
their seeds.

Grass seed is their constant food
in their native country. In cap-
tivity they take well to canary seed,
and what is remarkable, never pick
food with their feet, as do other species
of parrots, but always use their beaks.
" They do not build a nest, but must
be given a piece of wood with a rough
hole in the middle, which they will
fill to their liking, rejecting all soft lin-
ing of wool or cotton that vou may
furnish them."

Only the male sings, warbling
nearly all day long, pushing his beak
at times into his mate's ear as though
to orive her the full benefit of his
song. The lady, however, does not

I had a wife then. Her
feathers were almost like mine.
We never made nests. When
we wanted a nest, we found a
hole in a gum tree. I used to
sing to my wife while she sat on
the nest.

I can mock other birds. Some-
times I warble and chirp at the
same time. Then it sounds like
two birds singing. My tongue
is short and thick, and this helps
me to talk. But I have been
talking too much. My tongue
is getting tired.

I think I'll have a ride on
Pussy's back. Good bye.

seem to appreciate his efforts, but
generally pecks him sharply in return.
A gentleman who brought a Parra-
keet from Australia to England,
says it suffered greatly from the
cold and change of climate and was
kept alive by a kind-hearted weather-
beaten sailor, who kept it warm
and comfortable in his bosom. It
was not kept in a cage, but roamed
at will about the room, enjoying
greatly at times, a ride on the cat's
back. At meals he perched upon his
master's shoulder, picking the bits he
liked from a plate set before him. If
the weather was cold or chilly, he
would pull himself up by his master's
whiskers and warm his feet by stand-
ing on his bald head. He always
announced his master's coming by a
shrill call, and no matter what the
hour of night, never failed to utter a
note of welcome, although apparently
asleep with his head tucked under
his wing.

AUSTRALIAN GRASS PARRAKEET

COCK-OF-THE-KOCK-

6/7 Life-size.

THE COCK OF THE ROCK.

(^ HE Cock-of-the-Rock lives in
^ Guiana. Its nest is found

oj among the rocks. T. K

~^ Salmon says: " I once went
to see the breeding place of the Cock-
of-the-Rock ; and a darker or wilder
place I have never been in. Follow-
ing up a mountain stream the
gorge became gradually more en-
closed and more rocky, till I arrived
at the mouth of a cave with high rock
on each side, and overshadowed by
high trees, into which the sun never
penetrated. All was wet and dark,
and the only sound heard was the
rushing of the water over the rocks.
We had hardly become accustomed to
the gloom when a nest was found, a
dark bird stealing away from what
seemed to be a lump of mud upon the
face of the rock. This was a nest
of the Cock-of-the-Rock, containing
two eggs ; it was built upon a pro-
jecting piece, the body being made
of mud or clay, then a few sticks,
and on the top lined with green moss.
It was about five feet from the water.
I did not see the male bird, and, indeed,
I have rarely ever seen the male and
female • birds together, though I have
seen both sexes in separate flocks.''
The eggs are described as pale buff
with various sized spots of shades from
red-brown to pale lilac.

It is a solitary and wary bird,
feeding before sunrise and after sunset
and hiding through the day in sombre
ravines.

Robert Schomburgh decribes its
dance as follows:

" While traversing the mountains
of Western Guiana we fell in with a
pack of these splendid birds, which

gave me the opportunity of being an
eye witness of their dancing, an ac-
complishment which I had hitherto
regarded as a fable. We cautiously
approached their ballet ground and
place of meeting, which lay some little
distance from the road. The stage, if
we may so call it, measured from four
to five feet in diameter ; every blade of
grass had been removed and the ground
was as smooth as if leveled by human
hands. On this space we saw one of
the birds dance and jump about, while
the others evidently played the part of
admiring spectators At one moment
it expanded its wmgs, threw its head
in the air, or spread out its tail like a
peacock scratching the ground with
its foot ; all this took place with a sort
of hopping gait, until tired, when on
emitting a peculiar note, its place was
immediately filled by another per-
former. In this manner the different
birds went through their terpsichorean
exercises, each retiring to its place
among the spectators, who had settled
on the low bushes near the theatre of
operations. We counted ten males
and two females in the flock. The
noise of a breaking stick unfortunately
raised an alarm, when the whole com-
pany of dancers immediately flew off."
" The Indians, who place great value
on their skins, eagerly seek out their
playing grounds, and armed with
their blow-tubes and poisoned arrows,
lie in wait for the dances. The hunter
does not attempt to use his weapon
until the company is quite engrossed
in the performance, when the birds
become so pre-occupied with their
amusement that four or five are often
killed before the survivors detect the
danger and decamp."

THE RED BIRD OF PARADISE.

My home is on an island
where it is very warm. I fly
among the tall trees and eat
fruit and insects.

See my beautiful feathers.
The ladies like to wear them in
their hats.

The feathers of my wife are
brown, but she has no long tail
feathers.

My wife thinks my plumes
are very beautiful.

AYhen we have a party, we go
with our wives to a tall tree.
^Ye spread our beautiful plumes
while our wives sit and watch
us.

Sometimes a man finds oui-
tree and builds a hut among the
lower branches.

He hides in the hut and wdiile
we are spreading our feathers
shoots at us.

The arrows are not shai-p.
They do not draw^ blood.

When they dry the skins they
take off the feet and wings.
This is why people used to think
we had neither feet nor wings.

They also thought we lived
on the dews of heaven and the
honey of flowers. This is why
we are called the Birds of
Paradise.

" Upon its waving feathers poised in air,
Feathers, or rather clouds of golden dowTi,
With streamers thrown luxuriantly out
In all the wantonness of winded wealth."

RED BIRD OF PARADISE.
■*/9 Life-size.

THE RED BIRD OF PARADISE.

the Birds of Paradise,

was thought, the forms they

IRDS of Paradise are found
only in New Guinea and
ontheneighboringislands.
Thespecies presented here
is found only on a few islands.

In former days very singular ideas
prevailed concerning these birds and
the most extravagant tales were told
of the life they led in their native
lands. The natives of New Guinea, in
preparing their skins for exportation,
had removed all traces of legs, so that it
was popularly supposed they possessed
none, and on account of their want of
feet and their great beauty, were called

it
had

borne in the Garden of Eden, living
upon dew or ether, through which it
was imagined they perpetually floated
by the aid of their long cloud-like
plumage.

Of one in confinement Dr. Bennett
says: "I observed the bird, before
eating a grasshopper, place the in-
sect upon the perch, keep it firmly
fixed by the claws, and, divesting it of
the legs, wings, etc., devour it with
the head always fi.rst. It rarely alights
upon the ground, and so proud is the
creature of its elegant dress that it
never permits a soil to remain upon it,
frequently spreading out its wings and
feathers, regarding its splendid self in
every direction."

The sounds uttered by this bird are
very peculiar, resembling somewhat
the cawing of the Raven, but change
gradually to a varied scale in musical
gradations, like he^ hi^ ho^ hozv ! He
frequently raises his voice, sending
forth notes of such power as to be
heard at a long distance. These notes
are zvhack^ zvJiack^ uttered in a barking
tone, the last being a low note in
conclusion.

While creeping amongstthe branches
in search of insects, he utters a soft

clucking note. During the entire day
he flies incessantly from one tree to
another, perching but a few moments,
and concealing himself among the
foliage at the least suspicion of danger.

In Bennett's "Wanderings" is an
entertaining description of Mr. Beale's
bird at Maceo. "This elegant bird,"
he says, "has a light, playful, and
graceful manner, with an arch and
impudent look, dances about when a
visitor approaches the cage, and seems
delighted at being made an object of
admiration. It bathes twice daily,
and after performing its ablutions
throws its delicate feathers up nearly
over its head, the quills of which
have a peculiar structure, enabling
the bird to effect this object.
To watch thib bird make its
toilet is one of the most interesting
sights of nature ; the vanity which
inspires its every movement, the
rapturous delight with which it views
its enchanting self, its arch look when
demanding the spectator's admiration,
are all pardonable in a delicate
creature so richly embellished, so neat
and cleanly, so fastidious in its tastes,
so scrupulously exact in its observ-
ances, and so winning in all its ways."

Says a traveler in New Guinea:
" As we were drawing near a small
grove of teak-trees, our eyes were
dazzled with a sight more beautiful
than any I had yet beheld. It was
that of a Bird of Paradise moving
through the bright light of the morn-
ing sun. I now saw that the birds
must be seen alive in their native
forests, in order to fully comprehend
the poetic beauty of the words Birds
of Paradise. They seem the inhabi-
tants of a fairer world than ours,
things that have wandered in some
way from their home, and found the
earth to show us something of the
beautv of worlds bevond."

THE YELLOW THROATED TOUCAN.

I am a Toucan and I live in a
very warm country.

See my handsome black coat
and my yellow vest.

My toes are like a parrot's,
two in front and two behind.

They help me to hold to the
limbs.

Look at my large beak. It
looks heavy but it is not, as it is
filled with air cells. These
make it very light. Do you like
my blue eyes ?

Yiy nest is very hard to find.
If I tell you where it is, you
will not take the eggs, will you?
It is in a hollow limb of a very
high tree.

I am very fond of fruit, and
for this reason the people on the
plantations do not like me very
well. .

I can fly very fast, but I can-
not get along so well on the
ground. I keep my feet far
apart and hop.

I like to sit in the top of the
tallest trees. Then I am not
afraid. Nothing can reach me
there but a rifle ball.

I do not like the owl, he is so
ugly. AVhen we find an owl we
get in a circle around him and
snap our great beaks, and jerk
our tails up and down and
scream. He is very much afraid
of us.

The people where I live like
our yellow breasts. They wear
them on their heads, and also
put them on the ends of their
bows.

We sometimes sit together in
a tree and snap our beaks and
shout. This is why we have
been called 'Treacher Birds."

We can scream so loud that we
may be heard a mile away. Our
song is '' Tucano ! Tucano ! "

I think it is a pretty song, but
the people do not like it very
much.

YELLOW THROATED TOUCAN.

J'2 Lile-size.

THE YELLOW THROATED TOUCAN.

(^ HE Toucans are a numerous
race of South American birds,
at once recognizable by the
prodigious size of their beaks
and by the richness oi their phimage.
" These birds are very common," says
Prince Von Wied, " in all parts of the
extrensive forests of the Brazils and
are killed for the table in large
numbers during the cool seasons.
Their eggs are deposited in the hollow
limbs and holes of the colossal trees, so
common in the tropical forests, but
their nests are very difficult to find.
The egg is said to be white. They are
very fond of fruit, oranges, guavas and
plantains, and when these fruits are
ripe make sad havoc among the neigh-
boring plantations. In return for
these depredations the planter eats
their flesh, which is very delicate."

The flight of these birds is easy and
graceful, sweeping with facility over
the loftiest trees of their native forests,
their strangely developed bills being
no encumbrance to them, replete as
they are with a tissue of air-filled cells
rendering them very light and even
buoyant.

On the ground they get along with
a rather awkward hopping movement,
their legs being kept widely apart. In
ascending a tree they do not climb
but mount from one branch to another
with a series of jumps, ascending to
the tops of the very loftiest trees, safe
from every missle except a rifle ball.
They have a habit of sitting on the
branches in flocks, lifting their bills,
clattering them together, and shouting
hoarsely all the while, from which
custom the natives call them Preacher-
birds. Sometimes the whole party,
including the sentinel, set up a
simultaneous yell so deafeningly

loud that it can be heard a mile.
They are very loquacious birds and are
often discovered through their perpet-
ual chattering. Their cry resembles
the word "Tucano," which has given
origin to the peculiar name.

When settling itself to sleep, the
Toucan packs itself up in a very sys-
tematic manner, supporting its huge
beak by resting it on its back, and tuck-
ing it completely among the feathers,
while it doubles its tail across its back
just as if it moved on hinges. So com-
pletely is the large bill hidden among
the feathers, that hardly a trace of it is
visible in spite of its great size and
bright color, so that the bird when
sleeping looks like a great ball of loose
feathers.

Sir R. Owen concludes that the
large beak is of service in masticating
food compensating for the absence of
any grinding structures in the in-
testinal tract.

Says a naturalist: '' We turned into
a gloomy forest and for some time saw
nothing but a huge brown moth, which
looked almost like a bat on the wing.
Suddenly we heard high upon the trees
a short shrieking sort of noise end-
ing in a hiss, and our guide became
excited and said, "Toucan!" The
biids were very wary and made off.
They are much in quest and often shot
at. At last we caught sight of a pair,
but they were at the top of such a high
tree that they were out of range.
Presently, when I had about lost hope,
I heard loud calls, and three birds came
and settled in a low bush in the middle
of the path. I shot one and it proved to
be a very large toucan. The bird was
not quite dead when I picked it up,
and it bit me severely with its huge
bill."

THE RED RUMPED TANAGER.

I have just been singing my
morning song, and I wish you
could have heard it. I think
you would have liked it.

I always sing very early in
the morning. I sing because I
am happy, and the people like
to hear me.

My home is near a small
stream, where there are low
woods and underbrush along
its banks.

There is an old dead tree
there, and just before the sun is
up I fly to this tree.

I sit on one of the branches
and sing for about half an hour.
Then I fly away to get my
breakfast.

I am very fond of fruit.
Bananas grow where I live, and
I like them best of all.

I eat insects, and sometimes I
fly to the rice fields and swing
on the stalks and eat rice.

The people say I do much
harm to the rice, but 1 do not
see why it is wrong for me to
eat it, for I think there is enough
for all.

I must go now and get my
breakfast. If you ever come
to see me I will sing to you.

I will show you my wife, too.
She looks just like me. Be sure
to get up very early. If you do
not, you will be too late for my
song.

"Birds, Birds ! ye are beautiful things,
With your earth-treading feet and your cloud-cleaving wings.
Where shall man wander, and where shall he dwell —
Beautiful birds — that ye come not as well ?
Ye have nests on the mountain, all rugged and stark.
Ye have nests in the forest, all tangled and dark ;
Ye build and ye brood 'neath the cottagers' eaves.
And ye sleep on the sod, 'mid the bonnie green leaves ;
Ye hide in the heather, ve lurk in the brake.
Ye dine in the sweet flags that shadow tlie lake ;
Ye skim where the stream parts the orchard decked land,
Ye dance where the foam sweeps the desolate strand."

RED RUMPED TANAGER.
Life-size.

THE RED RUMPED TANAGER.

X American family, the Tan-
agers are mostly birds of
very brilliant plumage.
.There are 300 species,
a few being tropical birds. They are
found in British and French Guiana,
living in the latter country in open
spots of dwellings and feeding on
bananas and other fruits. They are
also said to do much harm in the
rice fields.

In "The Auk," of July, 1893, Mr.
George K. Cherrie, of the Field I\Ius-
eum, says of the Red-Rumped Tanager.

" During my stay at Boruca and
Palmar, (the last of February) the
breeding season was at its height, and
I observed many of the Costa Rica
Red-Rumps nesting. In almost every
instance where possible I collected
both parents of the nests, and in the
majority of cases found the males wear-
ing the same dress as the females.
In a few instances the male was in
mottled plumage, evidently just assum-
ing the adult phase, and in a lesser
number of examples the male was in
fully adult plumage — velvety bldck
and crimson red. From the above it
is clear that the males begin to breed
before they attain fully adult plumage,
and that they retain the dress of the
female until, at least, the beginning
of the second year.

" While on this trip I had many
proofs that, in spite of its rich plumage,
and being a bird of the tropics,
it is well worthy to hold a place of

honor among the song birds. And
if the bird chooses an early hour
and a secluded spot for expressing its
happiness, the melody is none the less
delightful. At the little village of
Buenos Aires, on the Rio Grande of
Terraba, I heard the song more fre-
quently than at any other point.
Close by the ranch house at which we
were staying, there is a small stream
bordered by low woods and under-
brush, that formed a favorite resort for
the birds. Just below the ranch is a
convenient spot where we took our
morning bath. I was always there
just as the day was breaking. On the
opposite bank was a small open space
in the brush occupied by the limbs of
a dead tree. On one of these branches,
and always the same one, was the spot
chosen by a Red-rump to pour forth
his morning song. Some mornings I
found him busy with his music when
I arrived, and again he would be a few
minutes behind me. Sometimes he
would come from one direction, some-
times from another, but he always
alighted at the same spot and then
lost no time in commencing his song.
While singing, the body w^as swayed to
and fro, much after the manner of a
canary while singing. The song would
last for perhaps half an hour, and then
aw^ay the singer would go. I have not
enough musical ability to describe the
song, but will say that often I remained
standing quietly for a long time, only
that I mio:ht listen to the music."

THE GOLDEN ORIOLE.

E find the Golden Oriole
in America oiih'. Accord-
ing to Mr. Nnttall, it is
migratory, appearing in
considerable nnmbers in West Florida
about the middle of March. It is a
good songster, and in a state of
captivity imitates various tunes.

This beautiful bird feeds on fruits
and insects, and its nest is con-
structed of blades of grass, wool, hair,
fine strings, and various vegetable
fibers, which are so curiously inter-
woven as to confine and sustain each
other. The nest is usually suspended
from a forked and slender branch, in
shape like a deep basin and generally
lined with fine feathers.

"On arriving at their breeding
locality they appear full of life and
activity, darting incessantly through
the lofty branches of the tallest trees,
appearing and vanishing restlessly,
flashing at intervals into sight from
amidst the tender waving foliage,
and seem like living gems intended to
decorate the verdant garments of the
fresh clad forest."

It is said these birds are so attached
to their young that the female has
been taken and conveyed on her eggs,
upon which with resolute and fatal
instinct she remained faithfully sitting
until she expired.

An Indiana gentleman relates the
following story:

"When I was a boy living in the
hilly country of Southern Indiana, I

remember very vividly the nesting of
a pair of fine Orioles. There stood
in the barn yard a large and tall
sugar tree with limbs within six or
eight feet of the ground.

"At about thirty feet above the
ground I discovered evidences of
an Oriole's nest. A few days later I
noticed they had done considerably
more work, and that they were using
horse hair, wool and fine strings.
This second visit seemed to create
consternation in the minds of the
birds, who made a great deal of noise,
apparently trying to frighten me
awa}'. I went to the barn and got a
bunch of horse hair and some wool, and
hung it on limbs near the nest. Then
climbing up higher, I concealed
myself where I could watch the work.
In less than five minutes they were
using the materials and chatted with
evident pleasure over the abundant
supply at hand.

"They appeared to have some
knowledge of spinning, as they would
take a horse hair and seemingly wrap it
with wool before placing it in position
on the nest.

"I visited these birds almost daily,
and shortly after the nest was com-
pleted I noticed five little speckled
eggs in it. The female was so attached
to the nest that I often rubbed her
on the back and even lifted her to
look at the eggs."

CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO

GOLDEN ORIOLE.
Life-size

AMERICAN BLUE JAY.
Vo Life-size.

THE BLUE JAY.

r^A URING about three- fourths
1 of the year the American

Is* y J^y ^^ ^^ extremely tame,
(""^"^^^ noisy and even obstrusive
bird in its habits. As the breeding
season approaches he suddenly becomes
silent, preparing the nest in the most
secluded parts of his native forests, and
exercising all his cunning to keep it
concealed. He is omniverous but is
especially fond of eggs and young
birds. The Jay may be regarded as
eminently injurious though in spring
he consumes a number of insects to
atone for his sins of stealing fruit and
berries in autumn. He is a professional
nest robber, and other birds are as
watchful of him as is a mother of her
babe. He glides through the foliage
of the trees so swiftly and noiselessly
that his presence is scarcely suspected
until he has committed some depreda-
tion. The Robin is his most wary foe,
and when the Jay is found near his
nest will pursue him and drive him
from the neighborhood. He is as
brave as he is active, however, and
dashes boldly in pursuit of his more
plainly attired neighbors who venture
to intrude upon his domain.

The Jay has a curious antipathy
toward the owl, perching on trees
above it and keeping up a continual
screeching. Some years ago an Ohio
gentleman was presented with a mag-
nificent specimen of the horned owl,

which he kept for a time in a large tin
cage. In favorable weather the cage
was set out of doors, when it would
soon be surrounded by Jays, much in
the manner described of the Toucan,
and an incessant screeching followed,
to which the owl appeared indifferent.
They would venture near enough to
steal a portion of his food, the bars of
his cage being sufficiently wide apart
to admit them. On one occasion,
however, he caught the tail of a Jay
in his claws and left the tormentor
without his proud appendage.

The Jay remains with us through-
out the year. He is one of the wildest
of our birds, the shyest of man,
although seeing him most. He makes
no regular migrations at certain sea-
sons, but, unless disturbed, will live out
his life close to his favorite haunts.
His wings show him to be unfitted for
extended flight.

Jays are most easily discovered in
the morning about sunrise on the tops
of young live oaks. Their notes are
varied. Later in the day it is more
difficult to find them, as they are more
silent, and not so much on the tree
tops as among the bushes.

The Jays breed in woods, forests,
orchards, preferring old and very shady
trees, placing their nests in the center
against the body, or at the bifurcation
of large limbs. The nest is formed of
twigs and roots ; the eggs are from
four to six.

THE BLUE JAY.

Something glorious, something gay,
Flits and flashes this-a-way !
'Thwart the hemlock's dusky shade.
Rich in color full displayed,
Swiftly vivid as a flame —
Blue as heaven and white as snow —
Doth this lovely creature go.
What may be his dainty name ?
" Only this" — the people say —
' Saucy, chattering, scolding Jay ! "

THE SWALLOW-TAILED INDIAN ROLLER.

WALLOW-TAILED Indian
Rollers are natives of Nortli-
eastern Africa and Senegam-
bia, and also the interior of
Niger district. The bird is so
called from its way of occasionally
rolling or turning over in its flight,
somewhat after the fashion of a tumb-
ler pigeon. A traveller in describing
the habits of the Roller family, says :

"On the 1 2th of April I reached
Jericho alone, and remained there in
solitude for several days, during which
time I had many opportunities of
observing the grotesque habits of the
Roller. For several successive even-
ings, great flocks of Rollers mustered
shortly before sunset on some dona
trees near the fountain, with all the
noise but without the decorum of
Rooks. After a volley of discordant
screams, from the sound of which it
derives its Arabic name of "schurk-
rak," a few birds would start from their
perches and commence overhead a
series of somersaults. In a moment or
two they would be followed by the
whole flock, and these gambols would
be repeated for a dozen times or more.

Everywhere it takes its perch on
some conspicuous branch or on the
top of a rock, where it can see and be
seen. The bare tops of the fig trees,
before they put forth their leaves, are

in the cultivated terraces, a particularly
favorite resort. In the barren Ghor I
have often watched it perched uncon-
cernedly on a knot of gravel or marl
in the plain, watching apparently for
the emergence of beetles from the sand.
Elsewhere I have not seen it settle on
the ground.

Like Europeans in the East, it can
make itself happy without chairs and
tables in the desert, but prefers a com-
fortable easy chair when it is to be
found. Its nest I have seen in ruins,
in holes in rocks, in burrows, in steep
sand cliffs, but far more generally in
hollow trees. The colony in the Wady
Kelt used burrows excavated by them-
selves, and many a hole did they relin-
quish, owing to the difficulty of work-
ing it. So cunningly were the nests
placed under a crumbling, treacher-
ous ledge, overhanging a chasm of
perhaps one or two hundred feet,
that we were completely foiled in our
siege. We obtained a nest of six eggs,
quite fresh, in a hollow tree in Bashan,
near Gadara, on the 6tli of May.

The total length of the Roller is
about twelve inches. The Swallow-
tailed Indian Roller, of which we pre-
sent a specimen, differs from the Euro-
peon Roller only in having the outer
tail feathers elongat(^d to an extent of
several inches."

■"'"■^m^M

SWALLOW-TAILED INDIAN ROLLER.
3,6 Lile-size.

THE RED HEADED WOODPECKER.

1^ >, ERHAPS no bird in North
^ ; America

IS more uni-
versally known than the
Red Headed Woodpecker.
He is found in all parts of the United
States and is sometimes called, for
short, by the significant name of Red-
Head. His tri-colored plumage, red,
white and black, glossed with steel
blue, is so striking and characteristic,
and his predatory habits in the
orchards and corn-fields, and fondness
for hovering along the fences, so very
notorious, that almost every child is
acquainted with the Red Headed
Woodpecker. In the immediate
neighborhood of large cities, where the
old timber is chiefly cut down, he is
not so frequently found. Wherever
there is a deadening, however, you
will find him, and in the dead tops
and limbs of high trees he makes his
home. Towards the mountains,
particularly in the vicinity of creeks
and rivers, these birds are extremely
numerous, especially in the latter end
of summer. It is interesting to hear
them rattlincr on the dead leaves of
trees or see them on the roadside
fences, where they flit from stake to
stake. We remember a tremendous
and quite alarming and afterwards
ludicrous rattling by one of them on
some loose tin roofing on a neighbor's
house. This occurred so often that
the owner, to secure peace, had the
roof repaired.

They love the wild cherries, the earl-
iest and sweetest apples, for, as is said
of him, " he is so excellent a connois-
seur in fruit, that whenever an apple or
pear is found broached by him, it is sure
to be among the ripest and best flavored.
When alarmed he seizes a capital one
by striking his open bill into it, and
bears it off to the woods." He eats
the rich, succulent, milky young corn

with voracity. He is of a gay and
frolicsome disposition, and half a
dozen of the fraternity are frequently
seen diving and vociferating around
the high dead limbs of some large
trees, pursuing and playing with each
other, and amusing the passerby with
their gambols. He is a comical fellow,
too, prying around at you from the
bole of a tree or from his nesting hole
therein.

Though a lover of fruit, he does
more good than injur}\ Insects are
his natural food, and form at least two
thirds of his subsistence. He devours
the destructive insects that penetrate
the bark and body of a tree to deposit
their eggs and larvae.

About the middle of May, he begins
to construct his nest, which is formed
in the body of large limbs of trees,
taking in no material but smoothing
it within to the proper shape and size.
The female lays six eggs, of a pure
white. The young appear about the
first of June. About the middle of
September the Red Heads begin to
migrate to v;armer climates, travelling
at night time in an irregular way like
a disbanded army and stopping for
rest and food through the day.

The black snake is the deadly foe of
the Red Head, frequently entering his
nest, feeding upon the young, and
remaining for days in possession.

" The eager school-boy, after hazard-
ing his neck to reach the Wood-
pecker's hole, at the triumphant
moment when he thinks the nestlings
his own, strips his arm, launches
it down into the cavity, and grasping
what he conceives to be t*he callow
young, starts with horror at the sight
of a hideous snake, almost drops from
his giddy pinnacle, and retreats down
the tree with terror and precipitation."

THE WOODPECKER.

The Drummer Bird.

My dear girls and boys :

The man who tokl me to keep
still and look pleasant while he
took my picture said T might
write you a letter to send with
it. You say I always keep on
the other side of the tree from
you. That is because someone
has told you that I spoil trees,.
and I am afraid that you will
want to punish me for it. I do
not spoil trees. The trees like
to have me come to visit them,
for I eat the insects that are
killing them. Shall I tell you
how I do this?

I cling to the tree with my
strong claws so sharply hooked.
The pointed feathers of my tail
are stiff enough to help hold me
against the bark. Then my
breast bone is quite flat, so that
I may press close to the tree.
When I am all ready you hear
my r-r-rap — just like a rattle.
My head goes as quickly as if it
were moved by a spring. Such
a strong, sharp bill makes the

chips fly! The tiny tunnel I dig
just reaches the insect.

Then I thi-ust out my long
tongue. It has a shai'p, horny
tip, and has barbs on it too.
Very tiny insects stick to a liquid
like glue that covers my tongue.
I suppose I must tell you that I
like a taste of the ripest fruit
and grain. Don't you think I
earn a little when I work so
hard keeping the trees healthy?

I must tell you about the deep
tunnel my mate and T cut out of
a tree. It is just wide enough
for us to slip into. It is not
straight down, but Itent, so that
the rain cannot get to the bot-
tom. There we make a nest of
little chips for oui' five white
eggs.

I should like to tell you one
of the stories that some boys
and girls tell about my red head.
You will hnd it on another page
of the book. Now I must fly
away to peck for more bugs.
Your loving friend,

AVOODPECKER.

RED-HEADED WOODPECKER
Life -size.

MEXICAN MOT MOT.

OT MOTS are peculiar to
the new world, being
found from Mexico
^ ~i-i_~ \^ ^ throughout the whole
of Central America and the South
American continent. The general
plumage is green, and the majority of
the species have a large racket at the
end of the center tail feathers, formed
by the bird itself.

The Houton, (so called from his
note,) -according to Waterson, ranks
high in beauty among the birds of
Demerara. This beautiful creature
seems to suppose that its beauty can
be increased by trimming its tail,
which undergoes the same operation
as one's hair in a barber shop, using
its own beak, which is serrated, in lieu
of a pair of scissors. As soon as its
tail is fully grown, he begins about
an inch from the extremity of the two
longest feathers in it and cuts away
the web on both sides of the shaft,
making a gap about an inch long.
Both male and female wear their tails
jn this manner, which gives them a
remarkable appearance among all other
birds.

To observe this bird in his native
haunts, one must be in the forest at
dawn. He shuns the society of man.
The thick and gloomy forests are pre-
ferred by the Houton. In those far
extending wilds, about day-break, you
hear him call in distinct and melan-
cholv tone, " Houton, Houton! " An

observer says, "Move cautiously to the
place from which the sound proceeds,
and you will see him sitting in the
underwood, about a couple of yards
from the ground, his tail moving up
and down every timt^ he articulates
" Houton! "

The Mot Mot lives on insects and
berries found among the underwood,
and very rarely is seen in the lofty
trees. He makes no nest, but rears
his young in a hole in the sand, gen-
erally on the side of a hill.

Mr. Osbert Salvin tells this curious
anecdote : " Some years ago the Zoo-
logical Society possessed a specimen
which lived in one of the large cages
of the parrot house by itself. I have
a very distinct recollection of the bird,
for I used every time I saw it to cheer
it up a bit by whistling such of its
notes as I had picked up in the forests
of America. The bird always seemed
to appreciate this attention, for
although it never replied, it became at
once animated, hopped about the cage,
and swung its tail from side to side
like the pendulum of a clock. For a
long time its tail had perfect spatules,
but toward the end of its life I noticed
that the median feathers were no longer
trimmed with such precision, and on
looking at its beak I noticed that from
some cause or other it did not close
properly, gaped slightly at the tip, and
had thus become unfitted for removing
the vanes of the feathers "

KING PARROT OR KING LORY.

lORY is the name of certain
birds, mostly from the Moluc-
cas and New Guinea, which
are remarkable for their
bright scarlet or crimson coloring,
though also applied to some others in
\vhich the plumage is chiefly green.
Much interest has been excited by the
discovery of Dr. A. B. Meyer that the
birds of this genus having a red
plumage are the females of those wear-
ing green feathers. For a time there
was much difference of opinion on
this subject, but the assertion is now
generally admitted.

They are called " brush-tongued "
Parrots. The color of the first plumage
of the young is still unsettled. This
bird is a favorite among bird fanciers,
is readily tamed, and is of an affect-
ionate nature. It can be taught to
speak very creditably, and is very fond
of attracting the attention of strangers
and receiving the caresses of those
whom it likes.

There are few things a parrot pre-
fers to nuts and the stones of various
fruits. Wood says he once succeeded
in obtaining the affections of a Parisian
Parrot, solely tlirough the medium of
peach stones which he always saved
for the bird and for which it regularly
began to gabble as soon as it saw him
coming. " When taken freshly from
the peach, " he says, " the stones a 'e
very acceptable to the parrot, who
turns them over, chuckling all the
while to show his satisfaction, and
picking all the soft parts from the deep
indentations in the stone." He used
to crack the stone before giving it to
the bird, when his delight knew no
bounds. They are fond of hot condi-
ments, cayenne pepper or the capsicum
pod. If a bird be ailing, a capsicum
will often set it right again.

The parrot is one of the hardiest of
birds when well cared for and will live
to a great age. Some of these birds

have been known to attain an age of
seventy years, and one seen by Vail-
lant had reached the patriarchal age of
ninety three. At sixty its memory
began to fail, at sixty-five the moult
became very irregular and the tail
changed to yellow. At ninety it was
a very decrepit creature, almost blind
and quite silent, having forgotten its
former abundant stock of words.

A gentleman once had for many
years a parrot of seemingly rare intel-
ligence. It was his custom during the
summer to hang the parrot's cage in
front of his shop in a country village,
where the bird would talk and laugh
and cry, and condole with itself Dogs
were his special aversion and on occa-
sions when he had food to spare, he
would drop it out of the cage and
whistle long and loud for them When
the dogs had assembled to his satisfac-
tion he would suddenly scream in the
fiercest accents, " Get out, dogs! "' and
when they had scattered in alarm his
enjoyment of it was demonstrative.
This parrot's vocabulary, however,
was not the most refined, his master
having equipped him with certain
piratical idioms.

According to authority, the parrot
owner will find the health of his pet
improved and its happiness promoted
by giving it, every now and then, 3.
small log or branch on which the
mosses and lichens are still growing.
Meat, fish, and other similar articles of
diet are given with evil effects.

It is impossible for anyone who has
only seen these birds in a cage or small
inclosure to conceive what must be the
gorgeous appearance of a flock, either
in full flight, and performing their
various evolutions, under a vertical
sun, or sporting among the superb
foliage of a tropical forest which,
without these, and other brilliant
tenants, would present only a solitude
of luxuriant veofetation.

wi«ft>j.5,V'-j 4'-«i* .\ «j,a*.«»pW«W8!l*ii*M»^-.5'i9t

MEXICAN MOT MOT.
% Lile-size

THE AMERICAN ROBIN.

The Bird of the Morning.

Yes, my dear readers, I am the
bird of the morning. Yery few
of you rise early enough to hear
my first song. By the time you
are awake our little ones have
had their breakfast, Mrs. Robin
and I have had our morning bath
and we are all ready to greet
you with our morning song.

I wonder if any of you have
seen our nest and can tell the
color of the eggs that Mrs. Robin
lays. Some time I will let you
peep into the nest and see them,
but of course you will not touch
them.

I wonder, too, if you know any
of my cousins — the Mocking
bird, the Cat bird or the Brown
Thrush — I think I shall ask
them to have their pictures taken
soon and talk to you about our
gay times.

Did you ever see one of my
cousins on the ground? I don't

believe you can tell how I move
about. Some of you may say I
run, and some of you may say I
hop, and others of you may say
I do both. AVell, I'll tell you
how to find out. Just watch me
and see. My little friend's up
north won't be able to see me
though until next month, as I dc
not dare leave the warm south
until Jack Frost leaves the
ground so I can find worms to
eat.

I shall be about the first bird
to visit you next month and I
want you to watch for me.
When I do come it will be to
stay a long time, for I shall be
the last to leave you. Just
think, the first to come and last
to leave. Don't you think we
ought to be great friends ? Let
us get bettef acquainted wher
next we meet. Your friend,

Robin.

=H OW do the robins build their nest?,
Robin Red Breast told me,
First a wisp of yellow hay
In a pretty round they lay ;
Then some shreds of downy floss,
Feathers too, and bits of moss,
Woven with a sweet, sweet song.
This way, that way, and across :
That's what Robin told me.

Where do the robins hide their nest'
Robin Red Breast told me,
Up among the leaves so deep,
Where the sunbeams rarely creep.
Long before the winds are cold,
Long before the leaves are gold
Bright-eyed stars will peep and see
Baby Robins — one, two, three :
That's what Robin told me.

THE AMERICAN ROBIN.

** Come, sweetest of the feathered throng^/'

UR American Robin must
not be confounded with the
English Robin Redbreast,
although both bear the same
name. It is the latter bird in whose
praise so much has been written in fable
and song. The American Robin be-
longs to the Thrush family; the Mock-
ing bird, Cat-bird and Brown Thrush, or
Thrasher, being other familiar chil-
dren. In this family, bird organization
reaches its highest development. This
bird is larger than his English cousin
the Redbreast and many think has a
finer note than any other of the Thrush
family.

The Robin courts the society of man,
following close upon the plow and the
spade and often becoming quite tame
and domestic. It feeds for a month or
two on strawberries and cherries, but
generally on worms and insects picked
out of the ground. It destroys the
larvae of many insects in the soil and
is a positive blessing to man, designed
by the Creator for ornament and
pleasure, and use in protecting vegeta-
tion. John Burroughs, the bird lover,
says it is the most .native and demo-
cratic of our birds.

It is widely diffused over the country,
migrating to milder climates in the
Winter. We have hiard him in the
early dawn on Nantucket Island wel-
coming the coming day, in the valleys
of the Great and the Little Miami, in
the parks of Chicago, and on the plains
of Kansas, his song ever cheering and
friendly. It is one of the earliest her-
alds of Spring, coming as early as
March or April, and is one of the latest
birds to leave us in Autumn. Its
song is a welcome prelude to the gen-
eral concert of Summer.

" When Robin Redbreast sings,
We think on budding Springs."

The Robin is not one of our most
channing songsters, yet its carol is
sweet, hearty and melodious. Its prin-
cipal song is in the morning before
sunrise, when it mounts the top of
some tall tree, and with its wonderful
power of song, announces the coming
of day. When educated, it imitates
the sounds of various birds, and even
sings tunes. It must be amusing to
hear it pipe out so solemn a strain as
Old Hundred.

It has no remarkable habits. It
shows considerable courage and
anxiety for its young, and is a pattern
of propriety when keeping house and
concerned with the care of its off-
spring. Two broods are often reared
out of the same nest. In the Fall
these birds become restless and
wandering, often congregating in large
flocks, when, being quite fat, they are
much esteemed as food.

The Robin's nest is sometimes built
in a corner of the porch, but oftener it
is saddled on the horizontal limb ol
an orchard tree. It is so large and
poorly concealed that any boy can
find it, yet it is seldom molested. The
Robin is not a skillful architect. The
masonry of its nest is rough and the
material course, being composed
largely of leaves or old grass, cemented
with mud. The eggs number four to
six and are greenish blue in color.

An observer tells the following story
of this domestic favorite:

" For the last three years a Robin
has nested on a projecting pillar that
supports the front piazza. In the
Spring of the first year she built her
nest on the top of the pillar — a rude
affair — it was probably her first effort.
The same season she made her second
nest in the forks of an Oak, which
took her only a few hours to complete.

5:; .2

«3

THE AMERICAN ROBIN-

She reared three broods that season;
for the third family she returned to
the piazza, and repaired the first nest.
The following Spring she came again
to the piazza, but selected another
pillar for the site of her domicile, the
construction of which was a decided
improvement upon the first. For the
next nest she returned to the Oak and
raised a second story on the old one of
the previous year, but making it much
more sy metrical than the one beneath.
The present season her first dwelling
was as before, erected on a pillar of
the piazza — as fine a structure as I
ever saw this species build. When
this brood was fledged she again
repaired to the Oak, and reared a
third story on the old domicile, using
the moss before mentioned, making a
very elaborate affair, and finally
finishing up by festooning it with long
sprays of moss. This bird and her

mate were quite tame. I fed them
with whortleberries, which they
seemed to relish, and they would come
almost to my feet to get them. "

The amount of food which the
young robin is capable of absorbing is
enormous. A couple of vigorous,
half-grown birds have been fed, and
in twelve hours devoured ravenously,
sixty-eight earth worms, weighing
thirty-four pennyweight, or forty-one
per cent more than their own weight.
A man at this rate should eat about
seventy pounds of flesh per day, and
drink five or six gallons of water.

The following poem by the good
Quaker poet Whittier is sweet because
he wrote it, interesting because it re-
cites an old legend which incidentally
explains the color of the robin's breast,
and unique because it is one of the
few poems about our American bird.

THE ROBIN.

My old Welsh neighbor over the way
Crept slowly out in the sun of spring,

Pushed from her ears the locks of gray.
And listened to hear the robin sing.

Her grandson, playing at marbles, stopped,
And — cruel in sport, as boys will be —

Tossed a stone at the bird, who hopped
From bough to bough in the apple tree.

" Nay!" said the grandmother ; " have you
not heard,

My poor, bad boy! of the fiery pit.
And how, drop by drop, this merciful bird

Carries the water that quenches it ?

"He brings cool dew in his little bill.
And lets it fall on the souls ol sin:
You can see the mark on his red breast still
Of fires that scorch as he drops it in.

"My poor Bron rhuddj^n! my breast-burned
bird,
Singing so sweetly from limb to limb,
Very dear to the heart of Our Lord
Is he who pities the lost like Him."

"Amen!" I said to the beautiful myth ;

" Sing, bird of God, in my heart as well:
Each good thought is a drop wherewith
To cool and lessen the fires of hell.

"Prayers of love like rain-drops fall,
Tears of pity are cooling dew,
And dear to the heart of Our Lord are all
Who suffer like Him in the good they do."

THE KINGFISHER.

Dear Children:

I shall soon ari-ive from the
south. T hear that all the birds
are going to tell stories to the
boys and girls.

I have never talked niueli with
ehildren myself for I never really
eared for people. They used to
say that the dead body of a
Kingfisher kept them safe in
war and they said also that it
protected them in lightning.

Even now in some places in
France they call us the moth
birds, for they believe that our
bodies will keep away moths
from woolen cloth.

I wash that people would not
believe such things about us.
Perhaps you cannot understand
me wdien I talk. You may think
that you hear only a child's
rattle.

Listen again ! It is I, the
Kingfisher. That sound is my
way of talking. I live in the
deep woods. I own a beautiful
stream and a clear, cool lake.
Oh, the little fish in that lake
are good enough for a king
to eat! I know, for I am a
king.

You may see me or some of
my mates near the lake any

pleasant day. People used to
say that we always brought
pleasant weather. That is a
joke. It is the pleasant weather
that always brings us from our
homes. AVhen it storms or rains
we cannot see the fish in the lake.
Then Ave may as well stay in our
nests.

My home once belonged to a
water rat. He dug the fine hall
in the gravel bank in my stream.
It is nearly six feet long. The
end of it is just the kind of a
place for a nest. It is warm,
dry and dark. In June my wife
and I will settle down in it. By
that time we shall have the nest
w^ell lined Avitli fish bones. AVe
shajl put in some dried grass too.
The fish bones make a fine lin-
ing for a nest. You know we
swallow the fish whole, but we
save all the bones for our nest.

I shall help my wife hatch her
five wdiite eggs and shall try in
every way to make my family
safe.

Please tell the people not to
believe those strange things
about me and you will greatly
oblige,

A neighbor,

The Kingfisher.

KINGFISHER.

s/r. Ijife-size.

Copvi-iglitcd liv
Xaiure Study Pub. Co., 1897, ChicftKO.

THE KINGFISHER.

The Lone Fisherman.

(^ HE American species belongs
to the true group of Kingfish-
efs. It occupies the whole
continent of North America
and although migrating in the north,
he is a constant resident of our south-
em states. The belted Kingfisher is
the only variety found along the
inland streams of the United States.
Audubon declares that "belted" should
apply only to the female, however.

Like most birds of brilliant plum-
age, the Kingfisher prefers a quiet and
secluded haunt. It loves the little
trout streams, with wooded and pre-
cipitous banks, the still ponds and
small lakes, ornamental waters in
parks, where it is not molested, and
the sides of sluggish rivers, drains and
mill-ponds.

Here in such a haunt the bird often
flits past like an indistinct gleam of
bluish light. Fortune may sometimes
favor the observer and the bird may
alight on some twig over the stream,
its w^eight causing it to sway gently to
and fro. It eagerly scans the shoal of
young trout sporting in the pool below,
when suddenly it drops down into the
water, and, almost before the observer
is aware of the fact, is back again to
its perch with a struggling fish in its
beak. A few blows on the branch and
its prey is ready for the dexterous
movement of the bill, which places it
in a position for swallowing. Some-
times the captured fish is adroitly
jerked into the air and caught as it
falls.

Fish is the principal food of the
Kingfisher ; but it also eats various
kinds of insects, shrimps, and even
small crabs. It rears its young in a
hole, which is made in the banks of
the stream- it frequents. It is a slat-
ternly bird, fouls its own nest and its
peerless eggs. The nesting hole is

bored rather slowly, and takes from
one to two weeks to complete. Six or
eight white glossy eggs are laid, some-
times on the bare soil, but often on the
fish bones which, being indigestible,
are thrown up by the bird in pellets.

The Kingfisher has a crest of feath-
ers on the top of his head, which he
raises and lowers, especially when try-
ing to drive intruders away from his
nest.

The plumage is compact and oily,
making it almost impervious to water.
The flesh is fishy and disagreeable to the
taste, but the eggs are said to be good
eating. The wings are long and
pointed and the bill longer than the
head. The voice is harsh and monot-
onous.

It is said that few birds are con-
nected with more fables than the King-
fisher. The superstition that a dead
Kingfisher when suspended by the
throat, would turn its beak to that
particular point of the compass from
which the wind blew, is now dead.
It was also supposed to possess many
astonishing virtues, as that its dried
body would avert thunderbolts, and
if kept in a wardrobe would preserve
from moths the woolen stuffs and the
like contained in it.

" Under the name of " halcyon," it
was fabled by the ancients to build its
nest on the surface of the sea, and to
have the power of calming the troubled
waves during its period of incubation ;
hence the phrase "halcyon days."

A pair of Kingfishers have had their
residence in a bank at the south end
of Washington Park, Chicago, for at
least three seasons past. We have
watched the Kingfisher from secluded
spots on Long Island ponds and tidal
streams, where his peculiar laughing
note is the same as that which greets
the ear of the fisherman on far inland
streams on still summer days.

THE BLACKBIRDc

" I could not think so plain a bird
Could sing so fine a song."

One on another against the wall

Pile up the books — I am done with them all :

I shall be wise, if I ever am wise,

Out of my own ears, and of my own eyes.

One day of the woods and their balmy light —
One hour on the top of a breezy hill,
There in the sassafras all out of sight
The Blackbird is splitting his slender bill
For the ease of his heart :

Do you think if he said
"I will sing like this bird with the mud colored back
And the two little spots of gold over his eyes,
Or like to this shy little creature that flies
So low to the ground, with the amethyst rings
About her small throat — all alive when she sings
With a glitter of shivering green — for the rest.
Gray shading to gray, with the sheen of her breast
Half rose and half fawn- —

Or like this one so proud,
That flutters so restless, and cries out so loiid.
With stiff horny beak and a top-knotted head.
And a lining of scarlet laid under his wings — "
Do you think, if he said, "I'm ashamed to be black! '"
That he could have shaken the sassafras-tree
As he does with the song he was born to ? not he !

— Alice Gary.

"Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?

Do you ne'er think who made them — who taught
The dialect they speak, where melodies

Alone are the interpreters of thought?
Whose household words are songs in many keys.

Sweeter than instrument of man ere caught !
Whose habitation in the tree-tops even

Are half-way houses on the road to heaven !
*******

"You call them thieves or pillagers; but know.

They are the winged wardens of your farms,
Who from the cornfields drive the insidious foe,

And from your harvest keep a hundred harms ;
Even the blackest of them all, the crow.

Renders good service as your man-at-arms,
Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail,

And crying havoc on the slug and snail."

— From "The Birds of Kilwngworth.'

iMito>^jas<-?.::.v£>..;

BLiUE MOUNTAIN LORY.
5i Life-size.

BLUE MOUNTAIN LORY.

(^ HIS bird inhabits the vast plains
of the interior of New South
Wales. It is one of the hand-
somest, not only of the Aus-
tralian Parrots, but takes fore-
most place among the most gorge-
ously dressed members of the Parrot
family that are to be met with in any
part of the world. It is about eleven
or twelve inches in length. The
female cannot with certainty be dis-
tinguished from her mate, but is usually
a very little smaller. The Lory sel-
dom decends to the ground, but passes
the greater part of its life among the
gum trees upon the pollen and nectar
on which it mainly subsists. In times
of scarcity, however, it will also eat
grass seeds, as well as insects, for want
of which it is said, it often dies pre-
maturely when in captivity.

Dr. Russ mentions that a pair ob-
tained from a London dealer in 1870
for fifty dollars were the first of these
birds imported, but the London Zoo-
logical Society had secured some of
them two years before.

Despite his beauty, the Blue IMoun-
tain Lory is not a desirable bird to
keep, as he requires great care. A
female which survived six years in an
aviary, laying several eggs, though
kept singly, was fed on canary seed,
maize, a little sugar, raw beef and car-
rots. W. Gedney seems to have been
peculiarly happy in his specimens,
remarking, " But for the terribly sud-

den death which so often overtakes
these birds, they would be the most
charming feathered pets that a lady
could possess, having neither the power
nor inclination to bite savagely." The
same writer's recommendation to feed
this Lory exclusively upon soft food,
in which honey forms a great part,
probably accounts for his advice to
those " whose susceptible natures would
be shocked " by the sudden death of
their favorite, not to become the owner
of a Blue Mountain Lory.

Like all the parrot family these
Lories breed in hollow boughs, where
the female deposits from three to four
white eggs, upon which she sits for
twenty-one days. The young from
the first resemble their parents closely,
but are a trifle less brilliantly colored.

They are very active and graceful,
but have an abominable shriek. The
noise is said to be nearly as disagree-
able as the plumage is beautiful. They
are very quarrelsome and have to be
kept apart from the other parrots, which
they will kill. Other species of birds
however, are not disturbed by them.
It is a sort of family animosity. They
have been bred in captivity. *

The feathers of the head and neck
are long and very narrow and lie
closely together ; the claws are strong
and hooked, indicating their tree
climbing habits. Their incessant activ-
ity and amusing ways make these bird::
always interesting to watch.

THE RED WING BLACK BIRD.

The Bird of Society.

(5 HE much abused and persecuted
^ Red Wing Black Bird is found

J] throughout North America,

-^ from the Atlantic to the Pa-
cific; and it breeds more or less abund-
antly wherever found. In New Eng-
land it is generally migratory, though
instances are on record where a few
have been known to remain through-
out the winter in Massachusetts. Pass-
ing, in January, through the lower
counties of Virginia, one frequently
witnesses the aerial evolutions of great
numbers of these birds. Sometimes
they appear as if driven about like an
enormous black cloud carried before
the wind, varying every moment in
shape. Sometimes they rise suddenly
from the fields with a noise like thun-
der, while the glittering of innumer-
able wings of the brightest vermillion,
amid the black cloud, occasion a very
striking effect. At times the whole
congregated multitude will suddenlv
alight in some detached grove and
commence one general concert, that
can plainly be distinguished at the
distance of more than two miles. With
the Redwings the whole winter season
seems one continued carnival. They
find abundant food in the old fields of
rice, buckwheat and grain, and much
of their time is spent in aerial move-
ments, or in grand vocal performances.

The blackbirds make the maples ring

With social cheer and jubilee ;

The redwing flutes his o ka lee.— Emeeson.

The Redwings, for their nest, always
select either the borders of streams or
low marshy situations, amongst thick
bunches of reeds. One nest was found
built on a slender sapling at the dis-
tance of fourteen feet from the ground.
The nest was pensile, like that of the
Baltimore Oriole.

They have from one to three or more
broods in a season, according to
locality.

In the grain growing states they
ofather in immense swarms and com-
mit havoc, and although they are shot
in great numbers, and though their
ranks are thinned by the attacks of
hawks, it seems to have but little
effect upon the survivors.

On the other hand, these Black
Birds more than compensate the farmer
for their mischief by the benefit they
confer in the destruction of grub
worms, catterpillars, and various kinds
of larvoe, the secret and deadly enemies
of veofetation. It has been estimated
the number of insects destroyed by
these birds in a single season, in the
United States, to be twelve thousand
millions.

The eggs average about an inch in
length. They are oval in shape, have
alight bluish ground, and are marbled,
lined and blotched with markings of
light and dark purple and black.

BLACKBIRD.

'Tis a woodland enchanted!
By no sadder spirit
Than blackbirds and thrushes,
That whistle to cheer it
All day in the bushes,
This woodland is haunted ;
And in a small clearing,
Beyond sight or hearing
Of human annoyance.
The little fount gushes. — LowELL.
68

M^^'

:,i^m^!^^n,4irSi^MSiimi

mSi

RED-WINGED BLACK BIRD
Life-size.

THE BIRD OF SOCIETY.

The blackbird loves to be one
of a great flock. He talks, sings
or scolds from morning until
night. He cannot keep still. He
will only stay alone with his
family a few months in the sum-
mer. That is the reason he is
called the ^' Bird of Society."
When he is merry, he gaily
sings, " Conk-quer-ree." AYhen
he is angry or frightened he
screams, " Chock ! Chock ! "
AYhen he is flying or bathing he
gives a sweet note which sounds
like ee-u-u. He can chirp —
chick, check, chuck, to his little
ones as softly as any other bird.
But only his best friends ever
hear his sweetest tones, for the
Blackbirds do not know how to
be polite. They all talk at once.
That is why most people think
they only scream and chatter.
Did you ever hear the black-
birds in the cornfields? If the
farmers thought about it per-
haps they would feel that part
of every corn crop belongs to the
Blackbirds. When the corn is
young, the farmer cannot see the
grubs which are eating the young
plants. The Blackbirds can.
They feed them to their babies
— many thousands in a day.
That is the way the crops are
saved for the farmer. But he
never thinks of that. Later when
the Blackbirds come for their
share of the corn the farmer

says, ^^No, they shall not have
my corn. I must stop that
quickly." Perhaps the Black-
birds said the same thing to
the grubs in the spring. It is
hard to- have justice for everyone.

In April the Blackbird and his
mate leave the noisy company.
They seek a cosy home near the
water where they can be quiet
until August. They usually
choose a swampy place among
low shrubs and rushes. Here
in the deep nest of coarse grass,
moss and mud the mother bird
lays her five eggs. They are
very pretty — light blue with pur-
ple and black markings. Their
friends say this is the best time
to watch the blackbirds. In the
flock they are all so much alike
we cannot tell one from another.
You would like to hear of some
of the wise things Blackbirds
do when they are tame.

One friend of the birds turned
her home into a great open bird
cage. Her chair was the favor-
ite perch of her birds. She
never kept them one minute
longer than they wanted to stay.
Y^et her home was always full.
This was Olive Thorne Miller.
If you care to, you might ask
mother to get '^ Bird AYays " and
read you what she says about
this " bird of society " and the
other birds of this book.

THE AMERICAN RED BIRD.

MERICAN RED BIRDS are
among our most common
cage birds, and are very gen-
erally known in Europe,
numbers of them having
been carried over both to France and
England. Their notes are varied and
musical ; many of them resembling the
high notes of a fife, and are nearly as
loud. They are in song from March
to September, beginning at the first
appearance of dawn and repeating
successively twenty or thirty times,
and with little intermission, a favorite
strain.

The sprightly figure and gaudy
plumage of the Red Bird, his vivacity,
strength of voice, and actual variety of
note, and the little expense with which
he is kept, will ahvays make him. a
favorite.

This species is more niimerous to
the east of the great range of the Alle-
ghanies, but is found in Pennsylvania
and Ohio, and is numerous in the
lower parts of the Southern States. In
January and February they have been
found along the roadsides and fences,
hovering together in half dozens,
associating with snow birds, and var-
ious kinds of sparrows. In the north-
ern states they are migratory, and in

the southern part of Pennsylvania they
reside during the whole year, frequent-
ing the borders of rivulets, in sheltered
hollows, covered with holly, laurel,
and other evergreens. They love also
to reside in the vicinity of fields of
Indian corn, a grain that constitutes
their chief and favorite food. The
seeds of apples, cherries, and other
fruit are also eaten by them, and they
are accused of destroying bees.

Early in May the Red Bird begins to
prepare his nest, which is very often
fixed in a holly, cedar or laurel bush. A
pair of Red Birds in Ohio returned for a
number of years to build their nest in
a honeysuckle vine under a portico.
They were never disturbed and never
failed to rear a brood of young. The
nest was constructed of small twigs,
dry weeds, slips of vine bark, and lined
with stalks of fine grass. Four eggs
of brownish olive were laid, and they
usually raised two broods in a season.

In confinement they fade in color,
but if well cared for, will live to a con-
siderable age. They are generally
known by the names : Red Bird, Vir-
ginia Red Bird, Virginia Nightingale,
and Crested Red Bird. It is said that
the female often sings nearly as well
as the male.

THE REDBIRDS.

Two Redbirds came in early May,
Flashing like rubies on the way ;
Their joyous notes awoke the day,
And made all nature glad and gay.

Thrice welcome ! crested visitants ;
Thou doest well to seek our haunts ;
The bounteous vine, by thee possessed,
From prying eyes shall keep thy nest.

Sing to us in the early dawn ;
'Tis then thy scarlet throats have drawn
Refreshing draughts from drops of dew,
The enchanting concert to renew.

No plaintive notes, we ween, are thine ;
They gurgle like a royal wine ;
They cheer, rejoice, they quite outshine
Thy neighbor's voice, tho' it's divine.

Free as the circumambient air

Do thou remain, a perfect pair.

To come once more when Proserpine

Shall swell the buds of tree and vine.

— C. C. M.
72

CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO.

CARDINAL.

THE RED BIRD.

Is it because he wears a red hat,
That we call him the Cardinal Bird?

Or is it because his voice is so rich
That scarcely a finer is heard ?

'Tis neither, but this — I've guessed it, I'm sure —

His dress is a primary color of Nature.

It blends with the Oriole's golden display,

And the garment of Blue Bird completes the array.

C. C M

LITTLE BOY BLUE.

Boys and girls, don't you think
that is a pretty name? I came
from the warm south, where 1
went last winter, to tell you that
Springtime is nearly here.

When 1 sing, the l)uds and
flowers and grass all begin to
whisper to one another, ''Spring-
time is coming foi- we heard the
Bluebird say so," and then they
peep out to see the warm sun-
shine. I perch beside them and
tell them of my long journey
from the south and how \ knew
just when to tell them to come
out of tlu'ir wai'in winter cradles.
I am of the sanu' blue c()h.)r as
the violet that shows hcj- pretty
face when 1 sing, ''Summer is
coming, and Springtime is here."

1 do not like the cities for
they are black and noisy and
full of those troublesome biixls
called English Sparrows. I
take my pretty mate and out in
the beautiful countiy we find a
home. We build a nest of

twigs, grass and hair, in a box
that the fai'nu^i' puts u\) for us
near his bai'u.

Sometimes we build in a hole
in some old tree and soon there
are tiny eggs in the nest. I
sing to my mate and to the good
people who own the barn. I
heard the farmer say one day,
"Isn't it nice to hear the Blue-
bird sing ? He must be very
happy." And I am, too, for by
this time there are four or five
little ones in the nest.

Little Bluebirds are like little
boys — they are always hungry.
We work hard to find enough
for them to eat. We feed them
nice fat worms ami bugs, and
when their little wings ai'e
strong enough, we teach them
how to fly. Soon they are large
enough to hunt their own food,
and can take care of themselves.

The sunnner passes, and when
we feel the breath of winter we
go south again, for we do not
like the cold.

THE BLUE BIRD.

I know the song that the Bluebird is singing
Out in the apple tree, where he is swinging.
Brave little fellow! the skies may be dreary,
Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery.
Hark! how the music leaps out from his throat,
Hark ! was there ever so merry a note ?

Listen a while, and you'll hear what he's saying,
Up in the apple tree swinging and swaying.
"Dear little blossoms down under the snow,
You must be weary of winter, I know ;
Hark! while I sing you a message of cheer,
Summer is coming, and springtime is here!"

"Dear little snow-drop ! I pray you arise ;
Bright yellow crocus! come open your eyes ;
Sweet little violets, hid from the cold,
Put on our mantles of purple and gold ;
Daffodils ! daffodils ! say, do you hear,
Summer is coming ! and springtime is here!"
75

BLUE BIRD.
Life-size.

THE BLUE BIRD.

Winged lute that we call a blue bird,

You blend in a silver strain
The sound of the laughing waters,

The patter of spring's sweet rain,
The voice of the wind, the sunshine,

And fragrance of blossoming things,
Ah ! you are a poem of April

That God endowed with wings. E. E. R.

^I^IKE a bit of sky this little
I jr^ harbinger of spring appears,
\qj as we see uim and his mate
J-.„i;^^^^^househunting in early-
March, Oftentimes he
makes his appearance as early as the
middle of February, when his attrac-
tive note is heard long before he him-
self is seen. He is one of the last to
leave us, and although the month of
November is usually chosen by him as
the fitting time for departure to a
milder clime, his plaintive note is
quite commonly heard on pleasant
days throughout the winter season,
and a few of the braver and hardier
ones never entirely desert us. The
Robin and the Blue Bird are tenderly
associated in the memories of most
persons whose childhood was passed
on a farm or in the country village.
Before the advent of the English
Sparrow, the Blue Bird was sure to be
the first to occupy and the last to de-
fend the little box prepared for his re-
turn, appearing in his blue jacket
somewhat in advance of the plainly
habited female, who on her arrival
quite often found a habitation selected
and ready for her acceptance, should
he find favor in her sight. And then
he becomes a most devoted husband
and father, sitting by the nest
and warbling with earnest affection
his exquisite tune, and occasionally fly-
ing away in search of food for his mate
and nestlings.

The Blue Bird rears two broods in
the season, and, should the weather be
mild, even three. His nest contains
three eggs.

In the spring and summer when he
is happy and gay, his song is ex-

tremely soft and agreeable, while it
grows very mournful and plaintive as
cold weather approaches. He is mild
of temper, and a peaceable and harm-
less neighbor, setting a fine example
of amiability to his feathered friends.
In the early spring, however, he wages
war against robins, wrens, swallows,
and other birds whose habitations are
of a kind to take his fancy. A cele-
brated naturalist says : " This bird
seems incapable of uttering a harsh
note, or of doing a spiteful, ill-temp-
ered thing."

Nearly everybody has his anecdote
to tell of the Blue Bird's courage, but
the author of "Wake Robin" tells
his exquisitely thus: "A few years
ago I put up a little bird house in the
back end of my garden for the accom-
modation of the wrens, and every
season a pair have taken up their
abode there. One spring a pair of
Blue Birds looked into the tenement,
and lingered about several days, lead-
ing me to hope that they would con-
clude to occupy it. But they finally
went away. Late in the season the
wrens appeared, and after a little co-
quetting, were regularly installed in
their old quarters, and were as happy
as only wrens can be. But before
their honeymoon was over, the Blue
Birds returned. I knew something
was wrong before I was up in the
morning. Instead of that voluble and
gushing song outside the window, I
heard the wrens scolding and crying
out at a fearful rate, and on going out
saw the Blue Birds in possession of
the box. The poor wrens were in
despair and were forced to look for
other quarters."

THE SWALLOW.

"Come, summer visitant, attach

To my reedroof thj' nest of clay,
And let my ear thy music catch.
Low twitting underneath the thatch.
At the gray dawn of day."

URE harbingers of spring
are the Swallows. They
are very common birds,
and frequent, as a rule,
the cultivated lands in the
neighborhood of water, showing a de-
cided preference for the habitations of
man. " How gracefully the swallows
fly! See them coursing over the
daisy-bespangled grass fields ; now
they skim just over the blades of grass,
and then with a rapid stroke of their
long wings mount into the air and
come hovering above your head, dis-
playing their rich white and chestnut
plumage to perfection. Now they
chase each other for very joyfulness,
uttering their sharp twittering notes ;
then they hover with expanded wings
like miniature Kestrels, or dart down-
wards with the velocity of the spar-
rowhawk ; anon they flit rapidly over
the neighboring pool, occasionally
dipping themselves in its calm and
placid waters, and leaving a long train
of rings marking their varied course.
How easily they turn, or glide over
the surrounding hedges, never resting,
never weary, and defying the eye to
trace them in the infinite turnings and
twistings of their rapid shooting flight.
You frequently see them glide rapidly
near the ground, and then with a side-
long motion mount aloft, to dart
downwards like an animated meteor,
their plumage glowing in the light
with metallic splendor, and the row of
white spots on the tail contrasting
beautifully with the darker plumage."
The Swallow is considered a life-
paired species, and returns to its nest-
ing site of the previous season, build-
ing a new nest close to the old one.
His nest is found in barns and out-

houses, upon the beams of wood
which support the roof, or in any
place which assures protection to the
young birds. It is cup-shaped and
artfully moulded of bits of mud.
Grass and feathers are used for the
lining. " The nest completed, five or
six eggs are deposited. They are of a
pure white color, with deep rich
brown blotches and spots, notably at
the larger end, round which they
often form a zone or belt." The sit-
ting bird is fed by her mate.

The young Swallow is disting-
uished from the mature birds by the
absence of the elongated tail feathers,
which are a mark of maturity alone.
His food is composed entirely of in-
sects. Swallows are on the wing fully
sixteen hours, and the greater part of
the time making terrible havoc
amongst the millions of insects which
infest the air. It is said that when
the Swallow is seen flying high in the
heavens, it is a never failing indica-
tion of fine weather.

A pair of Swallows on arriving at
their nesting place of the preceding
Summer found their nest occupied by
a Sparrow, who kept the poor birds at
a distance by pecking at them with
his strong beak whenever they at-
tempted to dislodge him. Wearied
and hopeless of regaining possession
of their property, they at last hit upon
a plan which effectually punished the
intruder. One morning they appeared
with a few more Swallows — their
mouths filled with a supply of tem-
pered clay — and, by their joint efforts
in a short time actually plastered up
the entrance to the hole, thus barring
the Sparrow from the home which he
had stolen from the Swallows.

\ 'J •*£?>'

THE BROWN THRUSH.

However the world goes ill,
The Thrushes still sing in it."

(j5 he Mocking-bird of the North,
as the Brown Thrush has
been called, arrives in the
Eastern and Middle States
about the loth of May, at which
season he may be seen, perched on the
highest twig of a hedge, or on the
topmost branch of a tree, singing his
loud and welcome song, that may be
heard a distance of half a mile. The
favorite haunt of the Brown Thrush,
however, is amongst the bright and
glossy foliage of the evergreens.
" There they delight to hide, although
not so shy and retiring as the Black-
bird ; there they build their nests in
greatest numbers, amongst the peren-
nial foliage, and there they draw at
nightfall to repose in warmth and
safety." The Brown Thrasher sings
chiefly just after sunrise and before
sunset, but may be heard singing at
interv^als during the day. His food
consists of wild fruits, such as black-
berries and raspberries, snails, worms,
slugs and grubs. He also obtains

much of his food amongst the with-
ered leaves and marshy places of the
woods and shrubberies which he
frequents. Few birds possess a more
varied melody. His notes are almost
endless in variety, each note seemingly
uttered at the caprice of the bird,
without any perceptible approach to
order.

The site of the Thrush's nest is a
varied one, in the hedgerows, under a
fallen tree or fence-rail; far up in the
branches of stately trees, or amongst
the ivy growing up their trunks. The
nest is composed of the small dead
twigs of trees, lined with the fine
fibers of roots. From three to five
eggs are deposited, and are hatched
in about twelve days. They have a
greenish background, thickly spotted
with light brown, giving the whole
egg a brownish appearance.

The Brown Thrush leaves the East-
ern and Middle States, on his migra-
tion South, late in September, remain-
ing until the following May.

THE THRUSH'S NEST.

"Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush

That overhung a molehill, large and round,
I heard from morn to morn a merry thrush

Sing hymns of rapture while I drank the sound
With joy — and oft an unintruding guest,

I watched her secret toils from day to day ;
How true she warped the moss to form her nest,

And modeled it within with wood and clay.
And by and by, with heath-bells gilt with dew,

There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers.
Ink-spotted over, shells of green and blue :

And there I witnessed, in the summer hours,
A brood of nature's minstrels chirp and fly.

Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky."

THE BROWN THRUSH.

Dear Readers :

My cousin Robin Redbreast
told me that he wrote you a
letter last month and sent it
with his picture. How did you
like it? He is a pretty bird —
Cousin Robin — and everybody
likes him. But I must tell you
somethin<>' of myself.

Folks call me by different
names — some of them nick-
names, too.

The cutest one of all is Brown
Thrasher. I wonder if you
know why they call me Thrasher.
If you don't, ask some one. It
is really funny.

Some people chink Cousin
Robin is the sweetest singer of
our family, but a great many
like my song just as well.

Early in the morning I sing
among the bushes, but later in
the day you will always find me

in the very top of a tree and it
is then I sing my best.

Do you know what I say in
my song? Well, if I am near a
farmer while he is planting, I
say: ''Drop it, drop it — cover it
up, cover it up — pull it up, pull
it up, pull it up."

One thing I very seldom do
and that is, sing when near my
nest. Maybe you can tell why.
I'm not very far from my nest
now. I just came down to the
stream to get a drink and am
watching that boy on the other
side of the stream. Do you see
him ?

One dear lady who loves birds
has said some very nice things
about me in a book called ''Bird
Ways." Another lady has
written a beautiful poem about
my singing. Ask your mamma
or teacher the names of these
ladies. Here is the poem :

rnHERE'S a merry brown tnrusn sitting up in a tree.
He is singing to me ! He is singing to me !
-*- And what does he say — little girl, little boy ?
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!

Hush ! Look ! In my tree,

I am as happy as happy can be."
And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest, do you see,
And five eggs, hid by me in the big cherry tree ?
Don't meddle, don't touch — little girl, little boy —
Or the world will lose some of its joy !

Now I am glad ! now I am free !

And I alwaj's shall be,
'- If you never bring sorrow to me."

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree
To you and to me — to you and to me ;
And he sings all the day — little girl, little boy —
"Oh, the world's running over with joy !

But long it won't be,

Don't you know? don't you see?

Unless we're good as good can be."
83

THE BLUE BIRD.

" Drifting down the first warm wind

That thrills the earliest days of spring,

The Bluebird seeks our maple groves
And charms them into tasselling."

" He sings, and his is Nature's voice —

A gush of melody sincere
From that great fount of harmony

Which thaws and runs when Spring is here."

" Short is his song, but strangely sweet

To ears aweary of the low
Dull tramps of Winter's sullen feet.

Sandalled in ice and muflQed in snow."

' Think, every morning, when the sun peeps through
The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove.

How jubilant the happy birds renew
Their old, melodious madrigals of love !

And when you think of this, remember, too,
'Tis always morning somewhere, and above

The awakening continents, from shore to shore,

Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.

Think of your woods and orchards without birds !

Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams
As in an idiot's brain remembered words

Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams !
Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds

Make up for the lost music, when your teams
Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more
The feathered gleaners follow to your door?"

From "The Birds oi^ Kii,i,ingsworth.

THE JAPAN PHEASANT.

RIGIXALLY the Pheasant
was an inhabitant of Asia
Minor but has been by de-
grees introduced into many
countries, where its beauty
of form, plumage, and the delicacy of
its flesh made it a welcome visitor.
The Japan Pheasant is a very beauti-
ful species, about which little is
known in its wild state, but in cap-
tivity it is pugnacious. It requires
much shelter and plenty of food, and
the breed is to some degree artificially
kept up by the hatching of eggs un-
der domestic hens and feeding them
in the coop like ordinary chickens,
until they are old and strong enough
to get their own living.

The food of this bird is extremely
varied. When young it is gener-
erally fed on ants' eggs, maggots,
grits, and similar food, but when it is
full grown it is possessed of an accom-
modating appetite and will eat many
kinds of seeds, roots, and leaves. It
will also eat beans, peas, acorns, ber-
ries, and has even been known to eat
the i\y leaf, as well as the berry.

This Pheasant loves the ground,
runs with great speed, and always pre-
fers to trust to its legs rather than to its
wings. It is crafty, and when alarmed
it slips quickly out of sight behind a
bush or through a hedge, and then
runs away with astonishing rapidity,
always remaining under cover until it
reaches some spot where it deems it-
self safe. The male is not domestic,
passing an independent life during
a part of the year and associating
with others of its own sex during the
rest of the season.

The nest is very rude, being merely
a heap of leaves and grass on the
ground, with a very slight depression.
The eggs are numerous, about eleven
or twelve, and olive brown in color. In
total length, though they vary consid-
erably, the full grown male is about
three feet. The female is smaller in
size than her mate, and her length
a foot less.

The Japan Pheasant is not a partic-
ularly interesting bird aside from his
beauty, which is indeed brilliant, there
being few of the species more attractive.

>^i

f^'M^

4 .J'

THE COMMON CROW.

The crow doth sing as merry as the lark,
When neither is attended."

Raven,
carrion,
known
inferior

EW birds have more interesting
characteristics than the Com-
mon Crow, being, in many of
his actions, very like the
especially in his love for
Like the Raven, he has been
to attack game, although his
size forces him to call to his
assistance the aid of his fellows to cope
with larger creatures. Rabbits and
hares are frequently the prey of this
bird which pounces on them as
they steal abroad to feed. His
food consists of reptiles, frogs, and
lizards ; he is a plunderer of other
birds' nests. On the seashore he finds
crabs, shrimps and inhabited shells,
which he ingeniously cracks by flying
with them to a great height and
letting them fall upon a convenient
rock.

The crow is seen in single pairs or
in little bands of four or five. In the
autumn evenings, however, they
assemble in considerable flocks before
going to roost and make a wonderful
chattering, as if comparing notes of
the events of the day.

The nest of the Crow is placed in
some tree remote from habitations of
other birds. Although large and
very conspicuous at a distance, it is
fixed upon one of the topmost branches
quite out of reach of the hand of the
adventurous urchin who longs to
secure its contents. It is loosely made
and saucer shaped. Sticks and softer
substances are used to construct it,
and it is lined with hair and fibrous
roots. Very recently a thrifty and
intelligent Crow built for itself a
summer residence in an airy tree near
Bombay, the material used being gold,
silver, and steel spectacle frames,
which the bird had stolen from an
optician of that city. Eighty-four
frames had been used for this purpose,
and they were so ingeniously woven

together that the nest was quite a
work of art. The eggs are variable,
or rather individual, in their markings,
and even in their size. The Crow
rarely uses the same nest twice,
although he frequently repairs to the
same locality from year to year. He
is remarkable for his attachment to
his mate and young, surpassing the
Fawn and Turtle Dove in conjugal
courtesy.

The Somali Arabs bear a deadly
hatred toward the Crow. The origin
of their detestation is the superstition
that during the flight of Mohammed
from his enemies, he hid himself in a
cave, where he was perceived by the
Crow, at that time a bird of light
plumage, who, when he saw the pur-
suers approaching the spot, perched
above Mohammed's hiding place, and
screamed, "Ghar! Ghar!" (cave! cave!)
so as to indicate the place of conceal-
ment. His enemies, however, did not
understand the bird, and passed on,
and IMohammed, when he came out of
the cave, clothed the Crow in per-
petual black, and commanded him to
cry "Ghar" as long as Crows should
live.

And he lives to a good old age.
Instances are not rare where he has
attained to half a century, without
great loss of activity or failure of sight.

At Red Bank, a few miles northeast
of Cincinnati, on the Little INIiami
River, in the bottoms, large flocks of
Crows congregate the year around. A
few miles away, high upon Walnut
Hills, is a Crow roost, and in the
late afternoons the Crows, singly, in
pairs, and in flocks, are seen on the
wing, flying heavily, with full crops,
on the way to the roost, from which
they descend in the early morning,
crying "Caw! Caw!" to the fields of
the newly planted, growing, or
matured corn, or corn stacks, as the
season may provide.

THE CROW.

Caw! Caw! Caw! little boys
and g'irls. Caw! Caw! Caw.
Just look at my coat of feathers.
See how black and glossy it is.
Do you wonder I am proud of it?

Perhaps you think I look very
solemn and wise, and not at all
as if I cared to play games. I
do, though ; and one of the
games I like best is hide-and-
seek. I play it with the farmer
in the spring. He hides, in the
rich, brown earth, golden kernels
of corn. Surely he does it be-
cause he knows I like it, for
sometimes he puts up a stick all
dressed like a man to show
where the corn is hidden. Some-
times I push my bill down into
the earth to find the corn, and at
other times I wait until tiny
green leaves begin to show above
the ground, and then I get my
breakfast without much trouble.
I wonder if the farmer enjoys
this game as much as I do. I
help him, too, by eating worms
and insects.

During the spring and sum-
mer I live in my nest on the top
of a very high tree. It is built
of sticks and grasses and straw
and string and anything else I
can pick up. But in the fall, I
and all my relations and friends
live together in great roosts or
rookeries. AYhat good times
we do have — hunting all day
for food and talking all night.
AYouldn't you like to be with us ?

The farmer who lives in the
house over there went to the mill
to-day with a load of corn.

One of the ears dropped out
of the wagon and it didn't take
me long to find it. I have eaten
all I can possibly hold and am
wondering now what is the best
thing to do. If you were in my
place would you leave it here
and not tell anybody and, come
back to-morrow and finish it? Or
would you fly off and get Mrs.
Crow and some of the children
to come and finish it? I believe
I'll fly and get them. Goodbye.

Caw! Caw! Caw!

BOBOLINK.

Other birds may like to travel
alone, but when jolly Mr. Bobo-
link and his quiet little wife
come from the South, where they
have spent the winter, they
come with a large party of
friends. When South, they eat
so much rice that the people call
them Rice Birds. When they
come North, they enjoy eating
wheat, barley, oats and insects.

Mr. and Mrs. Bobolink build
their simple little nest of grasses
in some field. It is hard to find
on the ground, for it looks just
like dry grass. Mrs. Bobolink
wears a dull dress, so she cannot
be seen when she is sitting on
the precious eggs. She does
not sing a note while caring
for the eggs. Why do you
think that is ?

Mr. Bob-Linkum does not
wear a sober dress, as you can
see by his picture. He does not
need to be hidden. He is just
as jolly as he looks. Shall I
tell you how he amuses his mate

while she is sitting? He springs
from the dew-wet grass with a
sound like peals of merry laugh-
ter. He frolics from reed to
post, singing as if his little
heart would burst with joy.

Don't you think Mr. and Mrs.
Bobolink look happy in the
picture? . They have raised
their family of five. Four of
their children have gone to look
for food ; one of them — he must
surely be the baby — would
rather stay with his mamma and
papa. Which one does he look
like?

Many birds are quiet at noon
and in the afternoon. A flock
of Bobolinks can be heard sing-
ing almost all day long. The
song is full of high notes and
low, soft notes and loud, all
sung rapidly. It is as gay and
bright as the birds themselves,
who flit about playfully as they
sing. You will feel like laugh-
ing as merrily as they sing when
you hear it some day.

THE BOBOLINK.

'•When Nature had made all her birds,

And had no cares to think on,

She gave a rippling laugh,

And out there flew a Bobolinkon."

,0 American ornithologist
omits mention of the Bobo-
link, and natnralists gener-
ally have described
him under one of the
many names by which he is known.
In some States he is called the Rice
Bird, in others Reed Bird, the Rice or
Reed Bunting, while his more familiar
title, throughout the greater part of
America, is Bobolink, or Bobolinkum.
in Jamaica, where he gets very fat
during his winter stay, he is called the
Butter Bird. His title of Rice
Troopial is earned by the depredations
which he annually makes upon the
rice crops, though his food " is by no
means restricted to that seed, but con-
sists in a large degree of insects, grubs,
and various wild grasses." A migra-
tory bird, residing during the winter
in the southern parts of America, he
returns in vast multitudes northward
in the early Spring. According to
Wilson, their course of migration is as
follows: " In April, or very early in
May, the Rice Buntings, male and
female, arrive within the southern
boundaries of the United States, and
are seen around the town of Savan-
nah, Georgia, sometimes in separate
parties of males and females, but
more generally promiscuously. They
remain there but a short time, and
about the middle of May make their
appearance in the lower part of
Pennsylvania. While here the males
are extremely gay and full of song,
frequenting meadows, newly plowed
fields, sides of creeks, rivers, and
watery places, feeding on May flies
and caterpillars, of which they des-
troy great quantities. In their passage,
however, through Virginia at this sea-
son, they do great damage to the early
wheat and barley while in their milky

state. About the 20th of May they
disappear on their way to the North.
Nearly at the same time they arrive in
the State of New York, spread over
the whole of the New England
States, as far as the river St. Law-
rence, and from Lake Ontario to the
sea. In all of these places they re-
main during the Summer, building
their nests and rearing their young."

The Bobolink's song is a peculiar
one, varying greatly with the occa-
sion. As he flys southward, his cry is
a kind of clinking note ; but the love
song addressed to his mate is voluble
and fervent. It has been said that if
you should strike the keys of a piano-
forte haphazard, the higher and the
lower singly very quickly, you might
have some idea of the Bobolink's
notes. In the month of June he
gradually changes his pretty, attrac-
tive dress and puts on one very like
the females, which is of a plain rusty
brown, and is not reassumed until the
next season of nesting. The two par-
ent birds in the plate represent the
change from the dark plumage in
which the bird is commonly known
in the North as the Bobolink, to the
dress of yellowish brown by which it
is known throughout the South as the
Rice or Reed Bird.

His nest, small and a plain one, too,
is built on the ground by his industri-
ous little wife. The inside is warmly
lined with soft fibers of whatever may
be nearest at hand. Five pretty white
eggs, spotted all over with brown are
laid, and as soon

" As the little ones chip the shell
And five wide mouths are ready for food,
' Robert of Lincoln ' bestirs him well,
Gathering seeds for this hungry brood."

THE FLICKER.

GREAT variety of names
does this bird possess. It
is commonly known as the
Golden Winged Wood-
pecker, Yellow-shafted Flicker, Yellow
Hammer, and less often as High-hole
or High-holer, Wake-up, etc. In suit-
able localities throughout the United
States and the southern parts of Can-
ada, the Flicker is a very common
bird, and few species are more gener-
ally known. " It is one of the most
sociable of our Woodpeckers, and is
apparently always on good terms with
its neighbors. It usually arrives in
April, occasionally even in March, the
males preceding the females a few
days, and as soon as the latter appear
one can hear their voices in all direc-
tions."

The Flicker is an ardent wooer. It
is an exceedingly interesting and
amusing sight to see a couple of males
paying their addresses to a coy and
coquettish female ; the apparent shy-
ness of the suitors as they sidle up to
her and as quickly retreat again, the
shy glances given as one peeps from
behind a limb watching the other —
playing bo-peep — seem very human,
and "I have seen," says an observer,
"few more amusing performances than
the courtship of a pair of these birds."
The defeated suitor takes his rejection
quite philosophically, and retreats in a
dignified manner, probably to make
other trials elsewhere. Few birds
deserve our good will more than the
Flicker. He is exceedingly useful,
destroying multitudes of grubs, larvae,
and worms. He loves berries and
fruit but the damage he does to culti-
vated fruit is very trifling.

The Flicker begins to build its nest
about two weeks after the bird arrives
from the south. It prefers open coun-
try, interspersed with groves and orch-
ards, to nest in. Any old stump, or
partly decayed limb of a tree, along

the banks of a creek, beside a country,
road, or in an old orchard, will answer
the purpose. Soft wood trees seem to
be preferred, however. In the prairie
states it occasionally selects strange
nesting sites. It has been known to
chisel through the weather boarding of
a dwelling house, barns,and other build-
ings, and to nest in the hollow space
between this and the cross beams ; its
nests have also been found in gate
posts, in church towers, and in burrows
of Kingfishers and bank swallows, in
perpendicular banks of streams. One
of the most peculiar sites of his selec-
tion is described by William A. Bry-
ant as follows: "On a small hill, a
quarter of a mile distant from any
home, stood a hay stack wdiich had
been placed there two years previously.
The owner, during the winter of
1889-90, had cut the stack through the
middle and hauled away one portion,
leaving the other standing, with the
end smoothly trimmed. The following
spring I noticed a pair of flickers about
the stack showing signs of wanting to
make it a fixed habitation. One morn-
ing a few days later I was amused at
the efforts of one of the pair. It was
clinging to the perpendicular end of
the stack and throwing out clipped
hay at a rate to defy competition.
This work continued for a week, and
in that time the pair had excavated a
cavity twenty inches in depth. They
remained in the vicinity until autumn.
During the winter the remainder of
the stack was removed. They re-
turned the following spring, and, after
a brief sojourn, departed for parts un-
known."

From five to nine eggs are generally
laid. They are glossy white in color,
and when fresh appear as if enameled.

The young are able to leave the
nest in about sixteen days ; they crawl
about on the limbs of the tree for a
couple of days before they venture to
fly, and return to the nest at night.

THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS.

"Everywhere the blue sky belongs to them and is their appointed rest, and
their native country, and their own natural home which they enter unannounced as
lords that are certainly expected, and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.' '

HE return of the birds to their
real home in the North, where
they build their nests and
""""" rear their young, is regarded
by all genuine lovers of earth's mes-
sengers of gladness and gayety as one
of the most interesting and poetical of
annual occurrences. The naturalist,
who notes the very day of each arrival,
in order that he may verify former
observation or add to his material
gathered for a new work, does not
necessarily anticipate with greater
pleasure this event than do many
whose lives are brightened by the
coming of the friends of their youth,
who alone of early companions do not
change. First of all — and ever the
same delightful warbler — the Blue-
bird, who, in 1895, did not appear at
all in many localities, though here in
considerable numbers last year, betrays
himself. "Did he come down out
of the heaven on that bright IVIarch
morning when he told us so softly and
plaintively that, if we pleased, spring
had come?" Sometimes he is here
a little earlier, and must keep his
courage up until the cold snap is over
and the snow is gone. Not long after
the Bluebird, comes the Robin, some-
times in ]\Iarch, but in most of the
northern states April is the month of
his arrival. With his first utterance
the spell of winter is broken, and the
remembrance of it afar off. Then
appears the Woodpecker in great
variety, the Flicker usually arriving
first. He is always somebody's old
favorite, ''announcing his arrival by a
long, loud call, repeated from the dry
branch of some tree, or a stake in the
fence — a thoroughly melodious April
sound."

Few perhaps reflect upon the diffi-
culties encountered by the birds them-
selves in their returning migrations.
A voyager sometimes meets with

many of our common birds far out at
sea. Such wanderers, it is said, when
suddenly overtaken by a fog, com-
pletely lose their sense of direction
and become hopelessly lost. Humming
birds, those delicately organized,
glittering gems, are among the most
common of the land species seen at sea.

The present season has been quite
favorable to the protection of birds.
A very competent observer says that
not all of the birds migrated this
winter. He recently visited a farm
less than an hour's ride from Chicago,
where he found the old place, as he
relates it, "chucked full of Robins,
Blackbirds, and Woodpeckers," and
others unknown to him. From this
he inferred they would have been in
Florida had indications predicted a
severe winter. The trees of the south
parks of Chicago, and those in
suburban places, have had, darting
through their branches during the
months of December and January,
nearly as many members of the Wood-
pecker tribe as were found there
during the mating season in May last.

Alas, that the Robin will visit us in
diminished numbers in the approach-
ing spring. He has not been so com-
mon for a year or two as he was
formerly, for the reason that the
Robins died by thousands of starvation,
owing to the freezing of their food
supply in Tennessee during the pro-
tracted cold weather in the winter of
1895. It is indeed sad that this good
Samaritan among birds should be
defenseless against the severity of
Nature, the common mother of us all.
Nevertheless the return of the birds,
in myriads or in single pairs, will
be welcomed more and more, year by
year, as intelligent love and apprecia-
tion of them shall possess the popular
mind.

THE BLACK TERN.

**(5 HE TERN," says Mr. F. M.
Woodruff, of the Chicago
Academy of Sciences, "is
the only representative of
the long-winged swimmers which
commonly nests with us on our
inland fresh water marshes, arriving
early in May in its brooding plumage
of sooty black. The color changes
in the autumn to white, and a number
of the adult birds may be found, in
the latter part of July, dotted and
streaked here and there with white.
On the first of June, 1891, I found a
large colony of Black Terns nesting
on Hyde Lake, Cook County, Illinois.
As I approached the marsh a few
birds were seen flying high in the air,
and as I neared the nesting site, the
fl)-ing birds gave notes of alarm, and
presently the air was filled with the
graceful forms of this beautiful little
bird. They circled about me, darting
down to within a few feet of my head,
constantly uttering a harsh, screaming
cry. As the eggs are laid upon the
bare ground, which the brownish and
blackish markings so closely resemble,
I was at first unable to find the nests,
and discovered that the only way to
locate them was to stand quietly and
watch the birds. When the Tern is
passing over the nest it checks its
flight, and poises for a moment on
quivering wings. By keeping my
eyes on this spot I found the nest
with very little trouble. The comple-
ment of eggs, when the bird has not
been disturbed, is usually three.
These are laid in a saucer shaped
structure of dead vegetation, which is
scraped together, from the surface of
the wet, boggy ground. The bird
figured in the plate had placed its
nest on the edge of an old muskrat

house, and m.3v' attention was attracted
to it by the fact that upon the edge of
the rat house, where it had climbed to
rest itself, was the body of a young
dabchick, or piedbilled grebe, scarcely
two and one-half inches long, and not
twenty-four hours out of the egg, a
beautiful little ball of blackish down,
striped with brown and white. From
the latter part of July to the middle of
August large flocks of Black Terns
may be seen on the shores of our
larger lakes on their annual migration
southward."

The Rev. P. B. Peabody, in alluding to
his observation of the nests of the
Tern, says: "Amid this floating sea
of aquatic nests I saw an unusual
number of well constructed homes of
the Tern. Among these was one that
I count a perfect nest. It rested on
the perfectly flat foundation of a small
decayed rat house, which was about
fourteen inches in diameter. The nest,
in form, is a truncated cone (barring the
cavity), was about eight inches high
and ten inches in diameter. The
hollow — quite shallow — was about
seven inches across, being thus un-
usually large. The whole was built
up of bits of rushes, carried to the spot,
these being quite uniform in length
— about four inches." After daily
observation of the Tern, during which
time he added much to his knowledge
of the bird, he pertinently asks: " Who
shall say how many traits and habits
yet unknown may be discovered
through patient watching of com-
munity-breeding birds, by men enjoy-
ing more of leisure for such delightful
studies than often falls to the lot of
most of us who have bread and butter
to earn and a tiny part of the world's
work to finish?"

104

THE MEADOW LARK.

"Not an inch of his body is free from delight.
Can he keep himself still if he would ? Oh, not he !
The music stirs in him like wind through a tree."

(^ HE well known Meadow or
Old Field Lark is a con-
stant resident south of lati-
tude 39, and many winter
farther north in favorite localities.
Its geographical range is eastern
North America, Canada to south Nova
Scota, Quebec, and Ontario to eastern
Manitoba ; west to Minnesota, Iowa,
IMissouri, eastern Kansas, the Indian
Territory, and Texas ; south to Florida
and the Gulf coast, in all of which
localities, except in the extreme north,
it usually rears two or three broods in
a season. In the Northern States it
is only a summer resident, arriving in
April and remaining until the latter
part of October and occasionally
November. Excepting during the
breeding season, small flocks may
often be seen roving about in search
of good feeding grounds. ISIajor Ben-
dire says this is especially true in the
fall of the year. At this time several
families unite, and as many as two
dozen may occasionally be flushed in
a field, over which they scatter, roam-
ing about independently of each other.
When one takes wing all the others
in the vicinity follow. It is a shy
bird in the East, wdiile in the middle
states it is quite the reverse. Its flight
is rather laborious, at least in starting,
and is continued by a series of rapid
movements of the wings, alternating
with short distances of sailing, and is
rarely protracted. On alighting, which
is accompanied with a twitching of its
tail, it usually settles on some fence
rail, post, boudler, weedstock, or on
a hillock in a meadow from which it
can get a good view of the surround-
ings, and but rarely on a limb of a
tree. Its favorite resorts are meadows,
fallow fields, pastures, and clearings,
but in some sections, as in northern

Florida,for instance,it also frequents the
low, open pine woods and nests there.

The song of the Meadow Lark is
not much varied, but its clear, whist-
ling notes, so frequently heard in the
early spring, are melodious and pleas-
ing to the ear. It is decidedly the
farmers' friend, feeding, as it does, on
noxious insects, caterpillers, moths,
grasshoppers, spiders, worms and the
like, and eating but little grain. The
lark spends the greater part of its
time on the ground, procuring all its
food there. It is seldom found alone,
and it is said remains paired for life.

Nesting begins in the early part of
]\Iay and lasts through June. Both
sexes assist in building the nest, which
is always placed on the ground, either
in a natural depression, or in a little
hollow scratched out by the birds,
alongside a bunch of grass or weeds.
The nest itself is lined with dry grass,
stubble, and sometimes pine needles.
]\Iost nests are placed in level meadows.

I The eggs and young are frequently
destroyed by vermin, for the meadow
lark has many enemies. The eggs
vary from three to seven, five being
the most common, and both sexes as-
sist in the hatching, which requires
about fifteen or sixteen days. The
young leave the nest before they are
able to fly — hiding at the slightest
sitjn of danw-er. The Meadow Lark
does not migrate beyOnd the United
States. It is a native bird, and is only
accidental in England. The eggs
are spotted, blotched, and speckled
with shades of brown, purple and
lavender. A curious incident is told
of a Meadow Lark trying to alight on
the top mast of a schooner several
miles at sea. It was evidently very tired
but would not venture near the deck.

105

THE MEADOW LARK.

I told the man who wanted
my picture that he could take it
if he would show my nest and
eggs. Do you blame me for
saying so? Don't you think it
makes a better picture than if I
stood alone?

Mr. Lark is away getting me
some breakfast, or he could be
in the picture, too. After a few
days I shall have some little
baby birds, and then won't we
be happy.

Boys and girls who live in the
country know us pretty well.
AVhen they drive the cows out
to pasture, or when they go out
to gather wild flowers, w^e sit on
the fences by the roadside and
make them glad with our merry
song.

Those of you who live in the
city cannot see us unless you
come out into the country.

It isn't very often that we can
find such a pretty place for a

nest as we have here. Most of
the time we build our nest under
the grass and cover it over, and
build a little tunnel leading to
it. This year we made up our
minds not to be afraid.

The people living in the houses
over there do not bother us at all
and w^e are so happy.

You never saw baby larks,
did you? AVell, they are queer
little fellows, with hardly any
feathers on them.

Last summer we had five little
birdies to feed, and it kept us
busy from morning till night.
This year we only expect three,
and Mr. Lark says he will do all
the work. He knows a field
that is being plowed, where he
can get nice, large worms.

Hark! that is he singing.
He will be surprised when he
comes back and finds me off the
nest. He is so afraid that I will
let the eggs get cold, but I
won't. There he comes, now.

io8

THE LONG-EARED OWL.

(5 HE name of the Long-Eared
Owl is derived from the great
length of his "ears" or feather-
tufts, which are placed upon
the head, and erect themselves when-
ever the bird is interested or excited.
It is the " black sheep " of the owl
family, the majority of owls being
genuine friends of the agriculturist,
catching for his larder so many of
the small animals that prey upon
his crops. In America he is called
the Great Horned Owl — in Europe
the Golden Owl.

Nesting time with the owl begins
in February, and continues through
March and April. The clown-like
antics of both sexes of this bird while
under the tender influence of the
nestine: season tend somewhat to im-
pair their reputation for dignity and
wise demeanor. They usually have a
simple nest in a hollow tree, but
which seems seldom to be built by the
bird itself, as it prefers to take the
deserted nest of some other bird, and
to fit up the premises for its own use.
They repair slightly from year to year
the same nest. The eggs are white,
and generally four or five in number.
While the young are still in the nest,
the parent birds display a singular
diligence in collecting food for them.

If you should happen to know of an
owl's nest, stand near it some evening
when the eld birds are rearing their
young. Keep quiet and motionless,
and notice how frequently the old
birds feed them. Every ten minutes
or so the soft flap, flap of their wings
will be heard, the male and female
alternately, and you will obtain a brief
glimpse of them through the gloom as
they enter the nesting place. They
remain inside but a short time, sharing
the food equally amongst their brood,
and then are off ao[ain to hunt for

more. All night, were you to have
the inclination to observe them, you
would find they pass to and fro with
food, only ceasing their labors at dawn.
The young, as soon as they reach
maturity, are abandoned by their
parents; they quit the nest and seek
out haunts elsewhere, while the old
birds rear another, and not infrequently
two more broods, during the remainder
of the season.

The habits of the Long-Eared Owl
are nocturnal. He is seldom seen
in the light of day, and is greatly dis-
turbed if he chance to issue from
his concealment while the sun is
above the horizon. The facial disk is
very conspicuous in this species. It is
said that the use of this circle is to
collect the rays of light, and throw
them upon the eye. The flight of the
owl is softened by means of especially
shaped, recurved feather-tips, so that
he may noiselessly steal upon his
prey, and the ear is also so shaped as
to gather sounds from below.

The Long - Eared Owl is hardly
tamable. The writer of this para-
graph, when a boy, was the possessor,
for more than a year, of a very fine
specimen. We called him Judge. He
was a monster, and of perfect plumage.
Although he seemed to have some
attachment to the children of the
family who fed him, he would not
permit himself to be handled by them
or by any one in the slightest. Most
of his time he spent in his cage, an
immense affair, in which he was very
comfortable. Occasionally he had
a day in the barn with the rats and
mice.

The owl is of great usefulness to
gardener, "agriculturist, and landowner
alike, for there is not another bird of
prey which is so great a destroyer of
the enemies of ves^etation.

109

GREAT HORNED UWi^.
■^ 7 Life-size.

CHICAGO COLOHTVPE (

THE OWL.

We know not alway
Who are kings by day,
But the king of the night is the bold brown owl!

I wonder why tlie folks put | wide awake and fly about getting

my picture last in the book. It
can't be because they don't like
me, for I'm sure I never bother
them. I don't eat the farmer's
corn like the crow, and no one
ever saw me quarrel with other
birds.

Maybe it is because I can't
sing. AVell, there are lots of
good people that can't sing, and
so there are lots of good l)ii-(ls
that can't sing.

Did you ever see any other
bird sit up as straight as I do?
I couldn't sit up so straight if I
hadn't such long, shai'p claws to
hold on with.

My home is in the woods.
Here we owls build our nests —
most always in hollow trees.

During the day I stay in the
nest or sit on a limb. I don't
like day time for the light hurts
my eyes, but when it begins to
grow dark then I like to stir
around. All night long I am

food for my little hungry ones.
They sleep most of the day
and it keeps me busy Jiearly
all night to find them enough to
eat.

I just finished my night's work
when the man came to take my
picture. It was getting light
and I told him to go to a large
stump on the edge of the woods
and r wouhl sit for my pictui'c.
So liere I am. Don't you think
1 look wise? How do you like
my large eyes? If I could smile
at you I would, but my face
always looks sobei-. I have a
great many cousins and if you
really like my pictui'e, I'll have
some of them talk to you next
month. I don't think any of
them have such pretty feathers
though. Just see if they have
when they come.

Well, I must fly back to my
perch in the old elm tree. Good-
bye.

THE OWL.

In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower,

The spectral owl doth dwell ;
Dull, hated, despised in the sunshine hour,

But at dusk he's abroad and well !
Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him ;

AV. mock him outright by daj' ;
But at night, when the woods grow still and dim,

The boldest will shrink away !

O! when the night falls, and roosts the fowl,
Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl )

And the owl hath a bride, who is foud and bold,

And loveth the wood's deep gloom ;
And, with eyes like the shine of the moonstone cold.

She awaiteth her ghastly groom.
Not a feather she moves, not a carol she sings,

As she waits in her tree so still.
But when her heart heareth his flapping wings,

She hoots out her welcome shrill !

O ! when the moon shines, and dogs do howl,
Then, then, is the joy of the Horned Owl !

Mourn not for the owl, nor his gloomy plight !

The owl hath his share of good —
If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight.

He is lord in the dark greenwood !
Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate,

They are each unto each a pride;
Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange, dark fate

Hath rent them from all beside !

So, when the night falls, and dogs do howl.
Sing, Ho! for the reign of the Horned Owl !
We know not alway
Who are kings by day.
But the King of the Night is the bold Brown Owl !

Bryan W. Procter

(Barry Cornwall/

ROSE-BREASTED GROSSBEAKS.
^16 Life-size.

THE ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAK.

(^ HIS is an American bird, and
has been described under vari-
ous names by various authors.
It is found in the lower parts
of Pennsylvania, in the state of New
York, and in New England, particu-
larly in autumn, when the berries of
the sour gum are ripe, on the kernels
of which it eagerly feeds. As a singer
it has few superiors. It frequently
sings at night, and even all night, the
notes being extremely clear and
mellow. It does not acquire its full
colors until at least the second spring
or summer. It is found as far east as
Nova Scotia, as far west as Nebraska,
and winters in great numbers in
Guatemala. This Grosbeak is common
in southern Indiana, northern Illinois,
and western Iowa. It is usually seen
in open woods, on the borders of
streams, but frequently sings in the
deep recesses of forests. In Mr. Nut-
tail's opinion this species has no
superior in song, except the Mocking
Bird.

The Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks arrive
in ]\Iay and nest early in June. They
build in low trees on the edges of
woods, frequently in small groves on
the banks of streams. The nest is
coarsely built of waste stubble, frag-
ments of leaves, and stems of plants,
intermingled with and strengthened
by twigs and coarser stems. It is
eight inches wide, and three and a
half high, with a cavity three inches
in diameter and one in depth, being
quite shallow for so large a nest.

Dr. Hoy, of Racine, states that on
the 15th of June, within six miles of
that city, he found seven nests, all
within a space of not over five acres,
and he was assured that each year
they resort to the same locality and
nest in this social manner. Six of
these nests were in thorn-trees, all
were within six to ten feet of the
ground, near the center of the top.
Three of the four parent birds sitting
on the nests were males. When a nest
was disturbed, all the neighboring
Grosbeaks gathered and appeared
equally interested.

It is frequently observed early in
the month of March, making its way
eastward. At this period it passes at
a considerable height in the air. On
the banks of the Sohuylkill, early in
May, it has been seen feeding on the
tender buds of trees. It eats various
kinds of food, such as hemp-seed,
insects, grasshoppers, and crickets with
peculiar relish. It eats flies and wasps,
and great numbers of these pests are
destroyed by its strong bill. During
bright moonshiny nights the Grosbeak
sings sweetly, but not loudly. In the
daytime, when singing, it has the
habit of vibrating its wings, in the
manner of the Mocking-bird.

The male takes turns with his mate
in sitting on the eggs. He is so happy
when on the nest that he sings loud
and lonof. His music is sometimes the
cause of great mourning in the lovely
family because it tells the egg hunter
where to find the precious nest.

THE CANADA JAY.

I don't believe I shall let this
bird talk to you, boys and girls,
for I'm afraid he will not tell
you what a funny fellow he is.
Isn't he a queer looking bird?
See how rufHed up his feathers
are. He looks as though he
forgot to fix up, just as some
little boys forget to comb their
hair before going to school.

Well, to tell the truth, he is a
very careless bird and does very
funny things sometimes. He
can't be trusted.

Just listen to some of the
names that people give him —
"Meat Bird," " Camp Robber."
I think you can guess why he is
called tiiose names.

Hunters say that he is the
boldest of birds, and I think they
are right, for what bird would
dare to go right into a tent and
carry off things to eat.

A hunter thought he would
play a joke on one of these
birds. He had a small paper
sack of crackers in the bottom

of his boat. The Jay flew down,
helped himself to a cracker and
flew away with it to his nest.
AYhile he was gone the hunter
tied up the mouth of the bag.

In a few moments the Jay
was back for more. When he
saw he could not get into the
bag, he just picked it up
and carried it off. The joke
was on the hunter after all.
Look at him. Doesn't he look
bold enough to do such a trick?

Look back at your February
number of '^Birds'' and see if
he is anything like the Blue
Jay.

He is not afraid of the snow
and often times he and his mate
have built their nest, and the
eggs are laid while there is still
snow on the ground. Do you
know of any other birds who
build their nests so early?

There is one thing about this
bird which we all admire — he is
always busy, never idle; so we
will forgive him for his funny
tricks.

Ii6

THE CANADA JAY.

^ri> AANY will recognize the
_J Ca

I na

Canada Jay by his local
names, of which he has
a large assortment.
He is called by the
guides and lumbermen of the Adiron-
dack wilderness, " Whisky Jack " or
" Whisky John," a corruption of the
Indian name, " Wis-ka-tjon," "Moose
Bird," "Camp Robber," "Hudson
Bay Bird," "Caribou Bird," "Meat
Bird," " Grease Bird," and " Venison
Heron." To each of these names
his characteristics have well entitled
him.

The Canada Jay is found only in
the more northern parts of the United
States, where it is a resident and
breeds. In northern Maine and
northern Minnesota it is most common;
and it ranges northward through the
Dominion of Canada to the western
shores of Hudson Bay, and to the limit
of timber within the Arctic Circle east
of the Rocky Mountains.

Mr. Manly Hardy, in a special
bulletin of the Smithsonian Institution,
says, " They are the boldest of our
birds, except the Chickadee, and in
cool impudence far surpass all others.
They will enter the tents, and often
alight on the bow of a canoe, where
the paddle at every stroke comes
within eighteen inches of thein. I
know nothing which can be eaten that
they will not take, and I had one
steal all my candles, pulling them out
endwise, one by one, from a piece of
birch bark in which they were rolled,
and another pecked a large hole in a
keg of castile soap. A duck which I
had picked and laid down for a few
minutes had the entire breast eaten
out by one or more of these birds. I
have seen one alight in the middle of
my canoe and peck away at the car-

cess of a beaver I had skinned. They
often spoil deer saddles by pecking
into them near the kidneys. They do
great damage to the trappers by steal-
ing the bait from traps set for martens
and minks, and by eating trapped
game. They will sit quietly and see
you build a log trap and bait it, and
then, almost before your back is turned,
you hear their hateful " Ca-ca-ca," as
they glide down and peer into it.
They will work steadily, carrying off
meat and hiding it. I have thrown
out pieces, and watched one to see how
much he would carry off. He flew
across a wide stream and in a short
time looked as bloody as a butcher
from carrying large pieces ; but his
patience held out longer than mine.
I think one would work as long as
Mark Twain's California Jay did try-
ing to fill a miner's cabin with acorns
through a knot hole in the roof.
They are fond of the berries of the
mountain ash, and, in fact, few things
come amiss ; I believe they do not
possess a single good quality except
industry."

Its flight is slow and laborious,
while it moves on the ground and in
trees with a quickness and freedom
equal to that of our better known
Bluejay.

The nesting season begins early,
before the snow has disappeared, and
ther-efore comparatively little is known
about its breeding habits. It is then
silent and retiring and is seldom seen
or heard. The nest is quite large,
made of twigs, fibres, willow bark, and
the down of the cottonwood tree, and
lined with finer material. The eggs,
so far as is known, number three or
four. They are of a pale gray color,
flecked and spotted over the surface
with brown, slate gray, and lavender.

119

THE PURPLE GALLINULE.

,URPLE Galliniiles are found
in the South Atlantic and
Gulf States, and casually
_>-^ northward as far as Maine,

New York, Wisconsin, and south
throughout the West Indies, Mexico,
Central America, and northern South
America to Brazil. The bird pictured
was caught in the streets of Galveston,
Texas, and presented to Mr. F. M.
Woodruff, of the Chicago Academy of
Sciences. Gallinules live in marshy
districts, and some of them might even
be called water-fowls. They usually
prefer sedgy lakes, large swampy
morasses and brooks, or ponds and
rivers well stocked with vegetation.
They are not social in disposition, but
show attachment to any locality of
which they have taken possession,
driving away other birds much larger
and stronger than themselves. They
are tenderly attached to their little
ones and show great affection for each
other. The nest is always built
among, or near the water plants of
which they are fond. It is about
eight inches thick and fifteen to
eighteen inches in diameter, and is
placed from a foot to two feet out of
water among the heavy rushes. The
Purple Gallinule is known to build as
many as five or six sham nests, a trait
which is not confined to the Wren
family. From four to twelve smooth
shelled and spotted eggs are laid, and

the nestlings when first hatched are
clad in dark colored down. On leav-
ing the nest they, accompanied by
their parents, seek a more favorable
situation until after the moulting
season. Half fluttering and half run-
ning, they are able to make their way
over a floating surface of water-plants.
They also swim with facility, as they
are aquatic, having swimming mern-
branes on their feet, and while vege-
table feeders to some extent, they dive
for food. It is noted that some
Gallinules, when young, crawl on
bushes by wing claws. The voice
somewhat resembles the cackling or
clucking of a hen. It eats the tender
shoots of young corn, grass, and
various kinds of grain. When the
breeding season approaches, the mated
pairs generally resort to rice fields,
concealing themselves among the reeds
and rushes. Mr. Woodruff noted that
when the railway trains pass through
the over-flowed districts about Galves-
ton, the birds fly up along the track
in large multitudes.

The Purple Gallinules are .stoutly
built birds, with a high and strong
bill, and their remarkably long toes,
which enable them to walk readily
over the water plants, are frequently
employed to hold the food, very much
in the manner of a parrot, while
eating.

O, purple-breasted Gallinule

Why should thy beauty cause thee fear ?

Why should the huntsman seek to fool

Thy inocence, and bring thee near

His deadly tool of fire and lead ?

Thou boldest high thy stately head!

Would that the hunter might consent

To leave thee in thy sweet content. — C. C. M.

fei»sS^«>^-s:-.> -^

1 col. F. M. Woourulf.

PURPLE GALLINULE.

BIRD DAY IN THE SCHOOLS.

IRD DAY ! Have you

heard of it? Whether

you have or not, we wish

to assure you that it is

worthy the thoughtful

consideration of all teachers, and of all

others interested in protecting and

preserving our sweet birds.

Bird day has already proved a great
success- in two cities of the United
States, both in the enthusiasm shown
by the children in their friendly
study of birds and in the result of such
study.

In 1894, Oil City, Pa., observed the
day, and in 1896 it was celebrated in
the schools of Fort Madison, Iowa.

Of the results in his schools, Supt.
Babcock, of Oil City, says, " There has
been a complete change in the
relations existing between the small
boy and the birds."

Although we in Fort Madison have
been engaged in bird study less than a
year, and have observed but one BIRD
DAY, results similar to those secured
by Supt. Babcock are becoming mani-
fest. Only a few days ago a boy said
to his teacher, " I used to take pleasure
in killing all kinds of birds. Now I
don't wish to harm even an English
Sparrow."

The object of BIRD DAY and the^
study that leads to it, is to diffuse a
true knowledge of the aesthetic and
practical value of birds and to arouse
an interest in bird protection.

And it is high time that something
be done. From all over the countrv

come reports of a decrease in native
birds. In many places some of our
sweetest songsters and most useful
insect destroyers have become very
scarce or have disappeared entirely.
The causes are many, but the greatest
is an inexcusable thoughtlessness on
the part of young and old of both
sexes. Johnny teases for a gun. His
fond parents get it for him. Result —
Johnny shows his marksmanship by
shooting several birds in his vicinity.
Or, perhaps, the ladies need new hats.
Nothing except birds for trimming
will do, though ten thousand sweet
songs be hushed forever.

The study of bird life is one of
especial interest to children and if
properly pursued will develop in them
sympathetic characters that should
make them kinder towards their play-
mates now and towards their fellow-
men in the coming years.

Impress upOn a child that

" He liveth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small,"

and you have built into his life some-
thing that shall shine forth in good
deeds through countless ages.

And how go about this work?
The limit of space allotted this article
forbids a full answer. Briefly, — study
the birds themselves. Get a boy
aroused to a friendly, protective
interest in one bird and you have
probably made that boy a friend of all
birds. If you are a teacher, take your
little flock out early some bright.
Spring morning and let them listen to

123

BIRD DAY IN THE SCHOOLS

the singing of their feathered brothers
of the air. Call attention to their
beauty and grace of form, plumage
and movement. Watch them care for
their little ones. Notice their nests —
their happy little homes — those " half-
way houses on the road to heaven,"
and as you and your flock wander,
watch and listen and call to mind that,

" 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above
The awakening continents, from shore to shore,
Somewhere the birds are singing evermore."

Let US, fellow teachers and fellow
citizens of America, take up this
work of bird study and bird protection.
Let the schools teach it, the press
print it, and the pulpit preach it, till
from thousands of happy throats shall
be proclaimed the glad tidings of good
will of man towards the birds.
C. H. Morrill,

Supt. of Schools.
Fort Madison, Iowa.

LOVE FOR ANIMALS.

Amongst the many beautiful stories
told of St. Francis of Assisi, none are
more interesting and striking than
those concerning his love for animals,
and tenderness towards them. How
he loved the birds, and called them
his sisters ; how they used to come to
him whilst he spoke to and blessed
them ; how he saved a pigeon from

the hands of a boy who was going to
kill it ; how he spoke of it as an
emblem of innocence and purity, and
made a nest for it and watched over
it and its young ones ; how he had
pity on a poor wolf, and tamed it and
caused it to follow him ; and also how
he thought of the fishes, and blessed
them.

124

SMITH'S PAINTED LONGSPUR.

MITH'S Painted Longspur
is usually considered a
rare bird in the middle
west, but a recent
observer found it very-
common in the fields. He saw
twenty-five on October 3rd of last
year. They were associated with a
large flock of Lapland Longspurs. On
account of its general resemblance to
the latter species it is often overlooked.
It is found in the interior of North
America from the Arctic coast to
Illinois and Texas, breeding far north,
where it has a thick, fur-lined, grass
nest, set in moss on the ground. Like
the Lapland Longspur, it is only a
winter visitor. It is not so generally
distributed as that species, the migra-
tions being wholly confined to the
open prairie districts. Painted Long-
spurs are generally found in large
flocks, and when once on the ground
begin to sport. They run very nimbly,
and when they arise utter a sharp
click, repeated several times in quick
succession, and move with an easy
undulating motion for a short distance,
when they alight very suddenly, seem-
ing to fall perpendicularly several feet
to the ground. They prefer the roots
where the grass is shortest. When in
the air they fly in circles, to and fro,
for a few minutes, and then alight,
keeping up a constant chirping or
call. They seem to prefer the wet
portions of the prairie. In the breed-
ing seasons the Longspur's song has
much of charm, and is uttered like the

Skylark's while soaring. The Long-
spur is a ground feeder, and the mark
of his long hind claw, or spur, can
often be seen in the new snow. In
1888 the writer saw a considerable
flock of Painted Longspurs feeding
along the Niagara river near Fort
Erie, Canada.

The usual number of eggs found in
a nest is four or five, and the nests, for
the most part, are built of fine dry
grasses, carefully arranged and lined
with down, feathers, or finer materials
similar to those of the outer portions.
They are sometimes sunk in an
excavation made by the birds, or in a
tuft of grass, and in one instance,
placed in the midst of a bed of Labra-
dor tea. When the nest is approached,
the female quietly slips off", while the
male bird may be seen hopping or flying
from tree to tree in the neighborhood of
the nest and doing all he can to induce
intruders to withdraw from the neigh-
borhood. The eggs have a light clay-
colored ground, marked with obscure
blotches of lavender and darker lines,
dots, and blotches of purplish brown.
The Longspur is a strong flier, and
seems to delight in breasting the
strongest gales, when all the other
birds appear to move w^ith difficulty,
and to keep themselves concealed
amonof the g-rass. While the colors of
adult males are very different in the
Longspur family, the females have a
decided resemblance. The markings
of the male are faintly indicated, but
the black and buff" are wanting:.

127

THB AMERICAN CROSS BILL.

MERICAN CROSSBILLS
are notable for their small
size, being considered and
described as dwarfs of
the family. Their food
consists exclnsively of pine, fir, and
larch, which accounts for the fact that
they are more numerous in Northern
latitudes where these trees abound.
When the cones are abundant they
visit in great numbers many places
where they have not been for years,
appearing at irregular intervals, and
not confining themselves to particular
localities.

They are very social even dur-
ing the nesting season. Their nests
are built among the branches of
the fir trees, and there they disport
themselves gaily, climbing nimbly,
and assisting their movements, as
parrots do, with their beaks. They
will hang downward for minutes cling-
ing to a twig or cone, seeming to enjoy
this apparently uncomfortable position.
They fly rapidly, but never to a great
distance. " The pleasure they experi-
ence in the society of their mates is
often displayed by fluttering over the
tops of the trees as they sing, after
which they hover fora time, and then
sink slowly to their perch. In the
day time they are generally in motion,
with the exception of a short time at
noon. During the spring, summer and

autumn they pass their time in flying
from one plantation to another."

The Crossbill troubles itself but little
about the other inhabitants of the
woods, and is said to be almost fearless
of man. Should the male lose his
mate, he will remain sorrowfully
perched upon the branch from which
his little companion has fallen ; again
and again visit the spot in the hope of
finding her ; indeed it is only after
repeated proofs that she will never
return that he begins to show any
symptoms of shyness.

In feeding the Crossbill perches upon
a cone with its head downwards, or
lays the cone upon a branch and stands
upon it, holding it fast with his sharp,
strong pointed claws. Sometimes it
will bite off a cone and carry it to a
neighboring bough, or to another tree
where it can be opened, for a suitable
spot is not to be found on every branch.

The nest is formed of pine twigs,
lined with feathers, soft grass, and the
needle-like leaves of the fir tree.
Three or four eggs of a grayish or
bluish white color, streaked with faint
blood red, reddish brown, or bluish
brown spots, are generally laid.

The following poem is quite a favor-
ite among bird lovers, and is one of
those quaint legends that will never
die.

THE LEGEND OF THE CROSSBILL.

From the German of Julius Mosen, by Longfellow.

On the cross the dying Saviour
Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm,

Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling
In his pierced and bleeding palm.

And by all the world forsaken,

Sees he how with zealous care
At the ruthless nail of iron
A little bird is striving there.

And that bird

Covered all

In the groves

Songs, like

Stained with blood and never tiring,
"With its beak it doth not cease,

From the cross it would free the Saviour,
Its Creator's son release.

And the Saviour speaks in mildness:

" Blest be thou of all the good !
Bear, as token of this moment,
Marks of blood and holy rood ! ' '
is called the Crossbill,
with blood so clear,
of pine it singeth,
legends, strange to hear.
128

RED CROSSBILLS.
'/b Lif>^ size.

m col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

CALIFORNIA WOODPECKER.

THE CALIFORNIA WOOD-PECKER.

I may not be as pretty a bird
as my red-headed cousin but I'm
just as busy. My home is in the
west among the pines on the
mountains. I do not visit the
east at all.

Of course I like insects and
fruits just as my relations do,
but I like best to eat acorns.
You know, if I left the acorns on
the trees and just got enough to
eat at one time, after a while I
would have a hard time finding
any. They would drop off and
roll away and get lost among
the leaves and grasses. AYhat
would you do if you were I ?

I have a very sharp bill, you
see. So I can peck and peck at
the tree until I have made a
hole which will hold an acorn.
Sometimes I fill my store house
quite full in this way. You can

see how they look in the picture.
When I want to get at the meat
in the acorn I drive the nut into
a crack and split the shell.
Then I have my breakfast easily
enough.

Some of the other birds like
acorns too — but I think they
should find and store away their
own and not try to take mine. I
do not like to quarrel and so
have many friends.

Then I have my nest to look
after. I make it as my cousin
does, by digging into a tree, first
a passage way or hall — then a
living-room. There are the
four or five white eggs and there
too soon are the little baby-birds
to be taken care of. Now, have
I not a great deal of work ? Do
you not think I am quite as busy
as my cousin ?

133

THIi CALIFORNIA WOODPECKER.

[^ HIS fine specimen of the Wood-
pecker is by far the most
sociable representative of the
''— ■— family in the United States,
and it is no unusual occurence to see
half a dozen or more in a single tree.
It is also a well ' disposed bird, and
seldom quarrels or fights with its own
kind, or with smaller birds, but it
attacks intruders on its winter stores
with such vigor and presistence that
they are compelled to vacate the
premises in a hurry. Its manner of
flight and call notes closely resemble
those of the Red-Headed Woodpecker,
and, like it, it loves to cling to some
dead limb near the top of a tree and
drum for hours at a time. It is one of
the most restless of birds, and never
appears to be at a loss for amusement, and
no other bird belonging to this family
could possibly be more industrious.

During the Spring and Summer its
food consists, to some extent, of insects,
including grass-hoppers, ants, beetles,
and flies — varied with cherries, apples,
figs, berries and green corn. Acorns
form its principal food during the
greater portion of the year. Of these
it stores away large numbers in the
thick bark of pines, in partly rotten
limbs of oak trees, telegraph poles, and
fence posts. A writer in the " Auk "
says of its habits: *' It is essentially a
bird of the pines, only occasionally
decending to the cotton woods of low
valleys. The oaks, which are scattered
through the lower pine zone, supply a
large share of its food. Its habit of
hoarding food is well known, and these
stores are the source of unending
quarreis with its numerous feathered
enemies. I have laid its supplies
under contribution myself, when short
of provisions and lost from the com-
mand on which I had been traveling,
by filling my saddlebags with half-
dried acorns from under the loose
bark of a dead pine."

The California Woodpecker is found
in western Mexico, northern Lower
California, and north through Cali-
fornia into western Oregon. So far as
is known the eastern limit of its range
is the Santa Fe Mountains.

Its nest is usually from fifteen to
twenty-five feet from the ground,
excavated on the side of a branch of a
good sized oak or sycamore. Breeding
commences in April or May, according
to locality. Both sexes assist in the
excavation. The entrance hole is
about one and three-fourths inches in
diameter, perfectly circular, and is
sometimes chisled through two or
three inches of solid wood before the
softer and decayed core is reached.
The inner cavity is greatly enlarged
as it descends, and varies from eight to
twenty-four inches in depth. The
eggs rarely exceed four or five, and
are pure white in color.

The most remarkable fact concern-
ing this species is the peculiar manner
in which it stores acorns. The thick
bark of large sugar and other pines
has been seen completely riddled with
small holes. A section of a partly
decayed oak limb, three feet two
inches long and five and one-half
inches in diameter, contained 255
holes. Each hole is intended to hold
a single acorn. The acorns fit quite
accurately, are driven in point fore-
most, and are not readily extracted.
Sweet acorns are selected. To get at
their contents the acorns are carried
to a convenient tree where a limb has
been broken off", driven into a suitable
crevice, split open, and the outer hull
removed. Truly the California Wood-
pecker is no idler or bungler, nor
is he a free-booter, like the noisy,
roystering Jay. He makes an
honest living, and provides for the
evil day which comes alike to man
and beast.

1^4

From col

BILLED GREBE.

THE PIEDBILL GREBE.

jEMBERS of the family
of Grebes are to be
found in the temperate
^zones of both hemis-
pheres, beyond which
they do not extend very far either to
the north or south. They are usually
found on ponds or large sheets of
stagnant water, sometimes on deep,
slow-moving streams ; but always
where sedges and rushes are abundant.
Probably there are no birds better
entitled to the name of water fowl
than the Grebes — at least, observers
state that they know of no others that
do not on some occasions appear on
dry land. It is only under the most
urgent circumstances, as, for instance,
when wounded, that they approach
the sho/e, and even then they keep
so close to the brink that on the
slightest alarm they can at once
plunge into the water. Whatever
they do must be done in the water ;
they cannot even rise upon the wing
without a preliminary rush over the
surface of the lake. From dry land
they cannot begin their flight. Their
whole life is spent in swimming and
diving. They even repose floating
upon the water, and when thus asleep
float as buoyantly as if they were made
of cork, the legs raised to the edges of
the wings, and the head comfortably
buried among the feathers between the
back and shoulder. Should a storm
arise, they at once turn to face the
blast, and are usually able, with their
paddle-like feet, to maintain them-
selves in the same place. They dive
with great facility, and make their
way more swiftly when under water
than when swimming at the top.
When fl^"ing the long neck is stretched
out straight forwards and the feet
backwards. In the absence of anv

tail, they steer their course by means
of their feet. When alarmed they
instantly dive.

Their food consists of small fishes,
insects, frogs, and tadpoles. Grebes
are peculiar in their manner of breed-
ing. They live in pairs, and are very
affectionate, keeping in each others
company during their migrations, and
always returning together to the same
pond. The nest is a floating one, a
mass of wet weeds, in which the eggs
are not only kept damp, but in the
water. The weeds used in building
the nests are procured by diving, and
put together so as to resemble a float-
ing heap of rubbish, and fastened to
some old upright reeds. The eggs are
from three to six, at first greenish
white in color, but soon become dirty,
and are then of a yellowish red or
olive-brown tint, sometimes marbled.

The male and female both sit upon
the nest, and the young are hatched
in three weeks. From the first
moment they are able to swim, and in
a few days to dive. Having once
quitted the nest they seldom return to
it, a comfortable resting and sleeping
place being afforded them on the backs
of their parents. "It is a treat to
watch the little family as now one,
now another of the young brood, tired
with the exertion of swimming or of
struggling against the rippling water,
mount as to a resting place on their
mother's back; to see how gently,
when they have recovered their
strength, she returns them to the
water ; to hear the anxious, plaintive
notes of the little warblers when they
have ventured too far from the nest ;
to see their food laid before them by
the old birds ; or to witness the
tenderness with which they are taught
to dive."

137

THE PIEDBILL GREBE.

Boys and Girls:

This is the first time I've been
on land for several weeks. I am
sure you can't think of any
other kind of bird who can say
that.

Sometimes I don't go on land
for months, but stay in the water
all of the time — eat and sleep
there, floating around.

My little chick wanted me to
go on land so we could have our
pictures taken.

If he were not sitting so close
to me you could see better what
paddles I have for feet.

I build my nest of weeds,
grass, sticks, and anything I can
find floating aroimd. I most
always fasten it to some reeds
or tall grass that grow up out
of the water.

In this I lay the eggs and just
as soon as the chicks come out
of the shell they can swim. Of
course they can't swim as well
as I and they soon get tired.
Do you know how I rest them?

Well, its very funny, but I
just help them up on my back
and there they rest while I swim
around and get them food.
AVhen they get rested th^y
slide off into the water.

Are you wondering if I can
fly ? Well, I can fly a little but
not very well. I can get along
very fast swimming, and as I
do not go on land often, why
should I care to fly.

Should any one try to harm
me' I can dive, and swim under
water out of reach.

AVell, chick, let us go back to
our home in the water.

138

BOHEMIAN WAXWING.
Life-size.

THE BOHEMIAN WAX-WING.

(^ HE Bohemian Wax-wing is
interesting for its gipsy-like
wanderings, one winter visit-
ing one country, next season
another, often in enormous flocks, and
usually with intervals of many years,
so that in former times their appear-
ance was regarded as sure forebodings
of war and pestilence, their arrival
being dreaded as much as that of a
comet. Another interesting feature of
its history is the fact that for a long
time this familiar bird eluded the
search of the zoologist. Its breeding
habits, and even the place where it
breeds, were unknowai thirty years
ago, until finally discovered by Mr.
Wolley in Lapland, after a diligent
search during four summers. It is
also called the European or Common
Silk-tail, and is an inhabitant both of
northern Europe and of North
America, though in America the Cedar
Bird is more often met with. In the
northern portions of Europe, birch and
pine forests constitute its favorite
retreats, and these it seldom quits,
except when driven by unusual
severity of weather, or by heavy falls
of snow, to seek refuge in more
southern provinces. It is said that
even in Russia, Poland, and southern
Scandinavia it is constantly to be seen
throughout the entire winter ; that
indeed, so rarely does it wander to
more southern latitudes, that in
Germany it is popularly supposed to
make its appearance once in seven
years. On the occasion of these rare

migrations, the Silk-tails keep together
in large flocks, and remain in any
place that affords them suitable food
until the supply is exhausted.

These birds are heavy and indolent,
exerting themselves rarely except to
satisfy hunger. They live in perfect
harmony, and during their migrations
indicate no fear of man, seeking their
food in the streets of the villages and
towns. They frequently settle in the
trees, remaining almost motionless for
hours together. Their flight is light
and graceful, but on the ground they
move with difficulty. Their call note
is a hissing, twittering sound. In
summer, insects are their chief food,
while in winter they live principally
on berries. The Wax-wing will
devour in the course of twenty-four
hours an amount of food equal to the
weight of its own body. In Lapland
is the favorite nesting ground of the
Bohemian Wax-wing. The nests are
deeply hidden among the boughs of
pine trees, at no great height from the
ground; their walls are formed of dry
twigs and scraps from the surrounding
branches, and the cavities are wide,
deep, and lined with blades of grass
and feathers. There are five eggs,
laid about the middle of June; the
shell is bluish or purplish white,
sprinkled with brown, black, or violet
spots and streaks, some of which take
the form of a wreath at the broad end.
The exquisite daintiness and softness
of the Wax-wing's coat can be com-
pared only to floss silk.

141

THE MARSH WREN.

with tail lip, and head up,

The Wren begins to sing ;

He fills the air with melody,

And makes the alders ring ;

We listen to his cadences,

We watch his frisky motions,

We think — his mate attending him —

He's got some nesting notions. — C. C. M.

HESE Wrens inhabit marshy
and weedy bottom lands along
river courses, and have all
■ the brisk manners and habits
of the family. This species, however,
has a peculiar habit of building
several nests every season, and it is
suggested that these are built to pro-
cure protection for the female, in order
that when search is made for the nest
where she is sitting, the male may
lure the hunter to an empty nest.

Its song is not unlike that of the
House Wren, though less agreeable.
It is a summer resident, arriving in
May and departin^^ in September. Its
nest, which is found along borders of
rivers, is made of sedge and grasses
suspended near tall reeds. It has been
found hanging over a small stream,
suspended from the drooping bough
of an alder tree, swayed to and fro by
every breath of air. A careful observer
states that a Wren will forsake her
nest when building it, sooner than any
other bird known to him. Disturb her
repeatedly when building and she
leaves it apparently without cause ;
insert your fingers in her tenement
and she will leave it forever. But
when the eggs are laid, the Wren will
seldom abandon her treasure, and
when her tender brood are depending
on her for food, she will never forsake
them, even though the young be
handled, or the female bird be caught
on the nest while feeding them. The
food of the Wren is insects, their larvae
and eggs, and fruit in season.

This Wren has justly been called a
perennial songster. " In Spring the

love-song of the Wren sounds through
the forest glades and hedges, as the
buds are expanding into foliage and
his mate is seeking a site for a cave-
like home. And what a series of
jerks it is composed of, and how
abruptly he finishes his song, as if
suddenly alarmed ; but this is his
peculiar habit and common to him
alone. In summer we hear his song
morning, noon, and night, go forth for
very joyfulness, as he wanders hither
and thither in his leafy bower." It is
only in the moulting season that he
does not sing.

A lady who used to attract a great
number of birds to her garden with
crumbs, seeds, and other dainties, said
that when the weather became cold
the Wrens used to gather upon a large
branch of a tree, about four inches
beneath another branch. They
assembled there in the evening and
packed themselves very comfortably
for the night, three or four deep,
apparently for the sake of warmth, the
topmost Wren always having his back
pres>^ed against the outer branch as if
to keep all .steady. Pitying their
forlorn condition, she provided a bed-
room for them — a square box lined
with flannel, and with a very small
round hole for a door. This was
fastened to the branch, and the birds
promptly took possession of it, their
numbers increasing nightly, until at
least forty Wrens crowded into the
box which did not seem to afford room
for half the number. When thus
assembled they became so drowsy as to
permit themselves to be gently handled.

142

LONG-BILLED MARSH WRENS.
Life-size.

THE MARSH WRENS.

A happier pair of birds than
these little Wrens it would be
hard to find.

They have just come up from
taking their morning bath and
are going to sing a while before
going to work on their nests.

You see I say nests. That is
a strange thing about the Wrens,
they build several nests. I
wonder if you can tell why they
do this. If you can't, ask your
teacher about it.

It is a little too early in the
season or I would have one of
the nests in the picture for you
to look at.

I will try to describe it to you,
so that you will know it when
you see it. These little Wrens
make their nests of coarse
grasses, reed stalks, and such
things, lined with fine grasses.
It is round like a ball, or
nearly so, and has the open-
ing in the side. They fasten
them to the reeds and bushes.

If you wish to get acquainted
with these birds, you must visit

the tall grasses and cat-tails
along rivers and creeks and in
marshes.

You won't have to let them
know that you are coming; they
will see you long before you see
them, and from their little nests
they will begin to scold you, for
fear that you mean to do them
harm.

When they see that you mean
them no harm, they will begin
to entertain you with their
songs. Oh, how they do sing !
It just seems as though they
would burst w^ith song.

You can see how happy the
one is in the picture. The other
little fellow will soon take his
turn. See how straight he holds
his tail up. Find out all you
can about these Wrens. You
notice they have long bills. We
call them Long-billed Marsh
Wrens. There are several other
kinds. You surely must have
seen their cousins, the House
Wrens. I will show you their
pictures some day.

145

THE ARIZONA GREEN JAY.

(^ HE geographical range of the
Arizona Jay is in southern
New Mexico and Arizona
and south into Sonora and
Chihuahua, Mexico. It is a common
resident throughout the oak belt which
generally fringes the foot-hills of the
mountains and ranges well up among
the pines. In suitable localities it is
very abundant. It is rarely seen at
any distance out of the arid plains ;
but after the breeding season is over,
small flocks are sometimes met with
among the shrubbery of the few water
courses, several miles away from their
regular habitat. They are seen in the
early Spring, evidently on a raid for
eggs and the young of smaller birds.
On such occasions they are very silent,
and their presence is only betrayed by
the scoldings they receive from other
birds. On their own heath they are
as noisy as any of our Jays, and
apparently far more sociable, a number
of pairs frequently nesting close to
each other in a small oak grove.
They move about in small family
parties of from half a dozen to twenty
or thirty, being rarely seen alone.
They are restless, constantly on the
move, prying into this or that, spend-
ing a good portion of their time on the
ground, now hopping on a low limb,
and the next minute down again,
twitching their tails almost constantly.
Their call notes are harsh and far
reaching, and are somewhat similar to
those of the California Jay.

The voices of animals have a family
character not easily mistaken, and this
similarity is especially observable in
birds. As Agassiz says, " Compare all
the sweet warbles of the songster

family — the nightingales, the thrushes,
the mocking birds, the robins; they
differ in the greater or lesser perfection
of their note, but the same kind of
voice runs through the whole group.
Does not every member of the Crow
family caw, whether it be a Jackdaw,
the Jay, or the Magpie, the Rook in
some green rookery of the Old World,
or the Crow of our woods, with its
long melancholy caw that seems to
make the silence and solitude deeper? "

The habits of the Arizona Jay are
similar to those of its brethren. Its
food consists of grasshoppers, insects,
animal matter, wild fruits, seeds, and
especially acorns. It flies by partly
closing its wings, darting suddenly
down, then up again, and repeating
these movements for some time. It
mates about the end of February.
The nest, composed of dry rootlets
laid very closely in rings, is usually
found in an oak sapling about ten feet
from the ground. The inside diameter
is five inches, and depth one and three-
fourths inches. It is like a deep
saucer.

The Arizona Jay is considered a
foothill bird, not going far into the
pines and not appearing on the plains.
But one brood appears to be raised in
a season, and nesting lasts about
sixteen days. The eggs vary from
four to seven, and differ from all the
known eggs of this family found
within the United States, being
unspotted. They are glaucous green
in color, and the majority are much
more glossy than Jays' eggs generally
are. In one hundred and thirty-six
specimens examined, all were perfectly
immaculate.

146

ARIZONA JA\'
■' 5 Liife-size

CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO.

BIRDS.

Illustrated by COLOR PHOTOGRfVPHY.

Vol. I.

MAY, 1897.

No.

NESTING TIME.

" There swims no goose so gray, but sooa or late,
She takes some honest gander for a mate ;"
There live no birds, however bright or plain,
Bui rear a brood to take their place again,

— C. C. ISI.

UITE the jolliest season of
the year, with the birds,
is when they begin to
require a home, either
as a shelter from the weather, a defence
against their enemies, or a place to
rear and protect their young. May is
not the only month in which they
build their nests, some of our favorites,
indeed, waiting till June, and even
July; but as it is the time of the year
when a general awakening to life and
activity is felt in all nature, and the
early migrants have come back, not to
re-visit, but to re-establish their tempo-
rarily deserted homes, we naturally fix
upon the first real spring month as the
one in which their little hearts are
filled with titillations of joy and
anticipation.

In May, when the trees have put on
their fullest dress of green, and the
little nests are hidden from all curious
eyes, if we could look quite through
the waving branches and rustling
leaves, we should behold the little
mothers sitting upon their tiny eggs
in patient happiness, or feeding their
young broods, not yet able to flutter
away ; while in the leafy month of
June, when Nature is perfect in mature

beauty, the young may everywhere be
seen gracefully imitating the parent
birds, whose sole purpose in life seems
to be the fulfillment of the admonition
to care well for one's own.

There can hardly be a higher
pleasure than to watch the nest build-
ing of birds. See the Wren looking
for a convenient cavity in ivy-covered
walls, under eaves, or among the
thickly growing branches of fir
trees, the tiny creature singing with
cheerful voice all day long. Observe
the Woodpecker tunneling his nest in
the limb of a lofty tree, his pickax-like
beak finding no difficulty in making
its way through the decayed wood, the
sound of his pounding, however,
accompanied by his shrill whistle,
echoing through the grove.

But the nest of the Jay: Who can
find it? Although a constant prowler
about the nests of other birds, he is so
wary and secretive that his little home
is usually found only by accident. And
the Swallow: "He is the bird of
return," Michelet prettily says of him.
If you will only treat him kindly, says
Ruskin, year after year, he comes back
to the same niche, and to the same
hearth, for his nest. To the same

149

niche ! Think of this a little, as if
you heard of it for the first time.

But nesting-time with the birds is
one of sentiment as well as of industry.
The amount of affectation in love-
making they are capable of is simply
ludicrous. The British Sparrow
which, like the poor, we have with us
always, is a much more interesting
bird in this and other respects than we
commonly give him credit for. It is
because we see him every day, at the
back door, under the eaves, in the
street, in the parks, that we are indif-

ferent to him. Were he of brighter
plumage, brilliant as the Bobolink or
the Oriole, he would be a welcome,
though a perpetual, guest, and we
would not, perhaps, seek legislative
action for his extermination. If he
did not drive away Bluebirds, whose
nesting-time and nesting-place are
quite the same as his own, we might
not discourage his nesting proclivity,
although we cannot help recognizing
his cheerful chirp with generous
crumbs when the snow has covered all
the earth and left him desolate.

C. C. M.-^RHI.E.

NATIONAL COUNCIL OF WOMEN.

EXTRACT FROM THE REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE ON DRESS, BY ITS CHAIRMAN,

MRS. FRANK JOHNSON.

Birds, Wings and Feathers Employed as Garniture.
From the school-room there should certainly emanate a sentiment which
would discourage forever the slaughter of birds for ornament.

The use of birds and their plumage is as inartistic as it is cruel and barbarous.

The Halo.
"One London dealer in birds received, when the fashion was at its height, a
single consignment of thirty-two thousand dead humming birds, and another
received at one time, thirty thousand aquatic birds and three hundred thousand
pairs of wings."

Think what a price to pay,
Faces so bright and gay,
Just for a hat !
Flowers unvisited, mornings unsung,
Sea-ranges bare of the winys that o'erswung —
Bared just for that !

Think of the others, too.
Others and niolhers, too,
Bright-Eyes in hat !
Hear you no mother-groan floating in air.
Hear you no little moan — birdling's despair —
Somewhere for that ?

Caught 'mid some mother-work,
Torn by a hunter Turk,
Just for your hat !
Plenty of mother-heart yet in the world ;
.\11 the more wings to tear, carefully twirled !
Women want that?

Oh, hut the shame of it.
Oh, but the blame of it.
Price of a hat !
Just for a jauntine.ss brightening the street!
This is vour halo — O faces so .sweet —

■ Death, and for that!— W. C. (Gannett

col. Chi. Acad. Sciences

SCREECH OWL.

THE SCREECH OWL.

I wouldn't let them put my
picture last in the book as they
did my cousin's picture in March
'' Birds." I told them I would
screech if they did.

You don't see me as often as
you do the Blue-bird, Robin,
Thrush and most other birds,
but it is because you don't look
for me. Like all other owls I
keep quiet during the day, but
when night comes on, then my
day begins. I would just as soon
do as the other birds — be busy
during the day and sleep during
the night — but really I can't.
The sun is too bright for my eyes
and at night I can see very well.
You must have your folks tell
you why this is.

I like to make my nest in a
hollow orchard tree, or in a thick
evergreen. Sometimes I make
it in a hay loft. Boys and girls
who live in the country know
what a hay loft is.

People who know me like to
have me around, for I catch a
good many mice, and rats that
kill small chickens. All night
long I fly about so quietly that
you could not hear me. I search
woods, fields, meadows, orchards,
and even around houses and
barns to get food for my baby
owls and their mamma. Baby
owls are queer children. They
never get enough to eat, it seems.
They are quiet all day, but just
as soon as the sun sets and twi-
light gathers, you should see
what a wide awake family a nest
full of hungry little screech owls
can be.

Did you ever hear your mam-
ma say when she couldn't get
baby to sleeep at night, that he
is like a little owl? You know
now what she means. I think I
hear my little folks calling for
me so I'll be off. Good night to
you, and good morning for me.

153

THE ORCHARD ORIOLE.

The Orcliarci Oriole is here.

Whv has li -• come? To cheer, to cheer — C. C. M.

HE (jrchard Oriole ha.s a gen-
eral raui^e throughout tlie
United States, spending the
winter in Central America.
It breeds only in the eastern and
central parts of the United States. In
Florida it is a summer resident, and is
found in greatest abundance in the
states bordering the Mississippi Valley.
This Oriole appears on our southern
border about the first of April, moving
leisurely northward to its breeding
grounds for a month or six weeks,
according to the season, the males pre-
ceding the females several days.

Though a fine bird, and attractive
in his manners and attire, he is not so
interesting or brilliant as his cousin,
the Baltimore Oriole. He is restless
and impulsive, but of a pleasant dis-
position, on good te ms with his neigh-
bors, and somewhat shy and difficult
to observe closely, as he conceals him-
self in the densest foliage while at
rest, or flies quickly about from twig
to twig in search of insects, which,
during the summer months, are his
exclusive diet.

The favorite haunts of this very
agreeable songster, as his name im-
plies, are orchards, and when the apple
and pear trees are in bloom, and the
trees begin to put out their leaves, his
notes have an ecstatic character quite
the reverse of the mournful lament of
the Baltimore species. Some writers
speak of his song as confused, but
others say this attribute does not
apply to bis tones, the musician
detecting anything but confusion in
the rapidity and distinctness of his
gushing notes. These mav be too

quick for the listener to follow, but
tliere is harmony in them.

In the Central States hardly an
orchard or a garden of an\- size can
be found without these birds. They
prefer to build their nests in apple
trees. The nest is different, but quite
as curiously made as that of the Balti-
more. It is suspended from a small
twig, often at the very extremity of
the branches. The outer part of tb.e
nest is usually formed of long, tough
grass, woven through with as much
neatness and in as intricate a manner
as if sewed wnth a needle. The nests
are round, open at the top, about four
inches broad and three deep.

It is admitted that few birds do
more good and less harm than our
Orchard Oriole, especially to the fruit
grower. Alost of his food consists of
small beetles, plant lice, flies, hairless
caterpillars, cabbage worms, grass-
hoppers, rose bugs, and larvte of all
kinds, while the few berries it may
help itself to during the short time
they last are many times paid for by
the great number of insect pests de-
stroyed, making it worthy the fullest
protection.

The Orchard Oriole is very social,
especially with the king bird. ]\Iost
of his time is spent in trees. His
flight is easy, swift, and graceful. The
female la\ s from four to six eggs, one
each dav. She alone sits on the eggs,
the male feeding her at intervals.
Both parents are devoted to their
young.

The fall migration begins in the
latter part of July or the beginning of
August, comparatively few remaining
till September.

154

m col. F. M. Woodruff.

ORCHARD ORIOLE.

THE MOTTLED OR "SCREECH ^^ OWL.

JGHT WANDERER," as this
species of Owl has been appro-
priately called, appears to be

peculiar to America.

They are quite scarce
in the south, but above the Falls of
the Ohio they increase in number, and
are numerous in Virginia, Maryland,
and all the eastern districts. Its
flight, like that of all the owl family,
is smooth and noiseless. He may be
sometimes seen above the topmost
branches of the highest trees in pur-
suit of large beetles, and at other
times he sails low and swiftly over the
fields or through the woods, in search
of small birds, field mice, moles, or
wood rats, on which he chiefly sub-
sists.

The Screech Owl's nest is built in
the bottom of a hollow trunk of a
tree, from six to forty feet from the
ground. A few grasses and feathers
are put together and four or five eggs are
laid, of nearly globular form and pure
wdiite color. This species is a native
of the northern regions, arriving here
aboutthe beginningof cold weather and
frequenting the uplands and moun-
tain districts in preference to the
lower parts of the country.

In the da^'time the Screech Owl sits
with his eyelids half closed, or slowly
and alternately opening and shutting,
as if suffering from the glare of day ;
but no sooner is the sun set than his
whole appearance changes ; he be-
comes lively and animated, his full
and globular eyes shine like those of a
cat, and he often lowers his head like
a cock when preparing to fight, mov-
ing it from side to side, and also ver-
tically, as if watching you sharply.
In flying, it shifts from place to place

"with the silence of a spirit," the
plumage of its wings being so ex-
tremely fine and soft as to occasion
little or no vibration of the air.

The Owl swallows its food hastily,
in large mouthfuls. When the retreat
of a Screech Owl, generally a hollow
tree or an evergreen in a retired situa-
tion, is discovered by the Blue Jay
and some other birds, an alarm is
instantly raised, and the feathered
neighbors soon collect and by insults
and noisy demonstration compel his
owlship to seek a lodging elsewhere.
It is surmised that this may account
for the circumstance of sometimes
finding them abroad during the day
on fences and other exposed places.

Both red and gray young are often
found in the same nest, while the
parents may be both red or both gray,
tlie male red and the female gray, or
vice versa.

The vast numbers of mice, beetles,
and vermin which they destroy render
the owl a public benefactor, much as
he has been spoken against for gratify-
ing his appetite for small birds. It
would be as reasonable to criticise men
for indulging in the finer foods pro-
vided for us by the Creator. They
have been everywhere hunted down
without mercy or justice.

During the night the Screech Owl
utters a very peculiar wailing cry, not
unlike the whining of a puppy, inter-
mingled with gutteral notes. The
doleful sounds are in great contrast
with the lively and excited air of the
bird as he utters them. The hoot-
ing sound, so fruitful of " shudders "
in childhood, haunts the memory of
many an adult whose earlier years,
like those of the writer, were passed
amidst rural scenerv.

157

THE MARSH HAWK.

XE of the most widely dis-
tributed birds of North
America is the Marsh Hawk,
according to Wilson, breed-
ing from the fur regions
around Hudson's Bay to Texas, and
from Nova Scotia to Oregon and Cal-
ifornia. Excepting in the Southern
portion of the United States, it is
abundant everywhere. It makes its
appearance in the fur countries about
the opening of the rivers, and leaves
about the beginning of November.
Small birds, mice, fish, worms, and
even snakes, constitute its food, with-
out much discrimination. It is very
expert in catching small green lizards,
animals that can easily evade the
quickest vision.

It is very slow on the wing, flies
very low, and in a manner different
from all others of the hawk family.
Flying near the surface of the water,
just above the weeds and canes, the
Marsh Hawk rounds its untiring circles
hour after hour, darting after small
birds as they rise from cover. Their
never ending flight, graceful as it is,
becomes monotonous to the watcher.
Pressed by hunger, they attack even
wild ducks.

In New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and
Delaware, where it sweeps over the
low lands, sailing near the earth, in
search of a kind of mouse very com-
mon in such situations, it is chiefly

known as the Mouse Hawk. In the
southern rice fields it is useful in
preventing to some extent the ravages
of the swarms of Bobolinks. It has
been stated that one Marsh Hawk was
considered by planters equal to several
negroes for alarming the rice birds.
This Hawk when feeding is readily
approached.

The birds nest in low lands near the
sea shore, in the barrens, and on the
clear table-lands of the Alleghanies,
and once a nest was found in a high
covered pine barrens of Florida.

The IMarsh Hawks always keep
together after pairing, working jointly
in building the nest, in sitting upon
the eggs, and in feeding the young.
The nest is clumsily made of hay,
occasionally lined with feathers, pine
needles, and small twigs. It is built
on the ground, and contains from three
to five eggs of a bluish white color,
usually more or less marked with
purplish brown blotches. Early May
is their breeding time.

It will be observed that even the
Hawk, rapacious as he undoubtedly is,
is a useful bird. Sent for the purpose
of keeping the small birds in bounds,
he performs his task well, though it
may seem to man harsh and tsranical.
The Marsh Hawk is an ornament to
our rural scenery, and a pleasing sight
as he darts silently past in the shadows
of falling nigfht.

om col. Chi. Acad

'I HAAVK.

THE SCISSOR-T AILED FLYCATCHER.

FLYCATCHERS are all interest-
ing, and many of them are
beantiful, but the Scissor-
tailed species of Texas is
especially attractive. They are also
known as the Swallow tailed Fly-
catcher, and more frequently as the
"Texan Bird of Paradise." It is a
common summer resident throughout
the greater portion of that state and
the Indian Territory, and its breeding
range extends northward into Southern
Kansas. Occasionally it is found
in southwestern Missouri, western
Arkansas, and Illinois. It is accidental
in the New England states, the North-
west Territory, and Canada. It arrives
about the middle of March and returns
to its winter home in Central America
in October. Some of the birds remain
in the vicinity of Galveston throughout
the year, moving about in small flocks.
There is no denying that the grace-
fulness of the Scissor-tailed Flycatcher
should well entitle him to the admira-
tion of bird-lovers, and he is certain to
be noticed wherever he goes. The
long outer tail feathers- he can open
and close at will. His appearance is
most pleasing to the eye when flutter-
ing slowly from tree to tree on the
rather open prairie, uttering his
twittering notes, "Spee-spee." When
chasing each other in play or anger
these birds have a harsh note like
"Thishthish," not altogether agree-
able. Extensive timber land is shunned
by this Flycatcher, as it prefers more
open country, though it is often seen
in the edges of woods. It is not often
seen on the ground, where its move-
ments are rather awkward. Its amia-
bility and social disposition are ob-
served in the fact that several pairs
will breed close to each other in

perfect harmony. Birds smaller than
itself are rarely molested by it, but it
boldly attacks birds of prey. It is a
restless bird, constantly on the lookout
for passing insects, nearly all of which
are caught on the wing and carried to
a perch to be eaten. It eats moths,
butterflies, beetles, grasshoppers,locusts,
cotton worms, and, to some extent,
berries. Its usefulness cannot be
doubted. According to Major Bendire,
these charming creatures seem to be
steadily increasing in numbers, being
far more common in many parts cf
Texas, where they are a matter of
pride with the people, than they were
twenty years ago.

The Scissor- tails begin housekeep-
ing some time after their arrival from
Central America, courting and love
making occupying much time before
the nest is built. They are not hard
to please in the selection of a suitable
nesting place, almost any tree standing
alone being selected rather than a
secluded situation. The nest is bulky,
commonly resting on an exposed limb,
and is made of any material that may
be at hand. They nest in oaks,
mesquite, honey locust, mulberry,
pecan, and magnolia trees, as well as
in small thorny shrubs, from five to
forty feet from the ground. Rarely
molested they become quite tame.
Two broods are often raised. The
eggs are usually five. They are hatched
by the female in twelve days, while
the male protects the nest from sus-
picious intruders. The young are fed
entirely on insects and are able to
leave the nest in two weeks. The
eggs are clear white, with markings of
brown, purple, and lavender spots and
blotches.

163

CHICKADEE.

Bird of the Merry Heart.

Here is a picture of a bird that
is always merry. He is a bold,
saucy little fell()^Y, too, but Ave
all love him for it. Don't you
think lie looks some like the
Canada Jay that you saw in
April ^^ Birds?"

I think most of you must have
seen him, for be stays with us all
the year, summer and winter.
H you ever beard him, you surely
noticed bow plainly be tells you
bis name. Listen — '' Cbick-a-
dee-dee; Chick-a-dee ; Hear,
bear me" — That's what be says
as be bops about from twig' to
twiii; in searcb of insects' e<2,"<^'s
and other bits for food. Xo
matter bow bitter the wind or
bow deep the snow, be is ahvays
around — tbe same jolly, careless
little fellow, chirping- and twit-
tering bis notes of good cheer.

Like the Yellow Wai'blei's on
page 169, Chickadees like best
to make tbeii' home in an old
stump or bole in a tree — not very
bigb from the ground. Some-
times they dig for themselves a
new bole, but this is only when
they cannot find one that suits
them.

Tbe Chickadee is also called
Black-capped Titmouse. H you
look at bis picture you w^ill see
bis black cap. You'll have to
ask someone why he is called
Titmouse. I think Cbickadee
is tbe prettier name, don't you?

If you want to get well
acquainted wnth this saucy little
bird, you want to watch for him
next winter, when most of the
birds have g-one south. Throw
him crumbs of bread and be will
soon be so tame as to come right
up to the door step.

164

fll

uiii cul. Chi. AcaJ. bLicn._t

CHICKADEE.

THE BLACK-CAPPED CHICKADEE.

"Chic-chickadee dee !" I saucily say;

My heart it is sound, my throat it is gay!

Every one that I meet I merrily greet

With a chickadee dee, chickadee dee!

To cheer and to cherish, on roadside and street.

My cap was made jaunty, my note was made sweet.

Chickadeedee, Chickadeedee!

No bird of the winter so merrj- and free;

Yet sad is my heart, though mj- song one of glee,

For my mate ne'er shall hear my chickadeedee.

I "chickadeedee" in forest and glade,

"Day, day, day!" to the sweet countr3' maid;

From autumn to spring time I utter tny song

Of chickadeedee all the day long!

The silence of winter my note breaks in twain.

And I "chickadeedee" in sunshine and rain.

Chickadeedee Chickadeedee!

No bird of the winter so merry and free;

Yet sad is my heart, though niy song one of glee,

For my mate ne'er shall hear my chickadeedee. — C. C. M.

SAUCY little bird, so active
and familiar, the Black-
Capped Chickadee, is also
recognized as the Black
Capped Titmouse, East-
ern Chickadee, and Northern Chick-
adee. He is found in the southern
half of the eastern United States,
north to or beyond forty degrees, west
to eastern Texas and Indian Territory,
The favorite resorts of the Chickadee
are timbered districts, especially in
the bottom lands, and where there are
red bud trees, in the soft wood of
which it excavates with ease a hollow
for its nest. It is often wise enough,
however, to select a cavity already
made, as the deserted hole of the
Downy Woodpecker, a knot hole, or a
hollow fence rail. In the winter sea-
son it is very familiar, and is seen
about door yards and orchards, even
in towns, gleaning its food from the
kitchen remnants, where the table
cloth is shaken, and wherever it may
chance to find a kindly hospitality.

In an article on "Birds as Protectors
of Orchards," Mr. E. H. Forbush says
of the Chickadee : "There is no bird
that compares with it in destroying
the female canker-worm moths and
their eggs." He calculated that one
Chickadee in one day would destroy
5,550 eggs, and in the twenty-five
days in which the canker-worm moths
run or crawl up the trees 138,750 eggs.
Mr. Forbush attracted Chickadees to

one orchard by feeding them in winter,
and he savs that in the followino-
summer it was noticed that while
trees in neighboring orchards were
seriously damaged by canker-worms,
and to a less degree by tent caterpillars,
those in the orchard which had been
frequented by the Chickadee during
the winter and spring were not
seriously infested, and that compara-
tively few of the worms and caterpillars
were to be found there. His conclu-
sion is that birds that eat esfp^s of
insects are of the greatest value to the
farmer, as they feed almost entirely on
injurious insects and their eggs, and
are present all winter, where other
birds are absent.

The tiny nest of the Chickadee is
made of all sorts of soft materials, such
as wool, fur, feathers, and hair placed
in holes in stumps of trees. Six to
eight eggs are laid, which are white,
thickly sprinkled with warm brown.

Mrs. Osgood Wright tells a pretty
incident of the Chickadees, thus: "In
the winter of 1891-2, when the cold
was severe, the snow deep, and the
tree trunks often covered with ice, the
Chickadees repaired in flocks daily to
the kennel of our old dog Colin and
fed from his dish, hopping over his
back and calling Chickadee, dee, dee,
in his face, a proceeding that he never
in the least resented, but seemed
rather to enjoy it."

167

PROTHONOTARY YELLOW WARBLERS.

Quite a l()ii<^* name for such
small birds — don't you think so?
You will have to get your teacher
to repeat it several times, I fear,
before you learn it.

These little yellow warblers
are just as happy as the pair of
wrens I showed you in April
'' Birds." In fact, I suspect they
are even happier, for their nest
has been made and the eggs laid.
What do you think of their
house? Sometimes they find an
old hole in a stump, one that a
woodpecker has left, perhaps,
and there build a nest. This
year they have found a very
pretty place to begin their house-
keeping. AYhat kind of tree is
it? I thought I would show
only the part of the tree that
makes their home. I just be-
lieve some boy or girl who loves
birds made those holes for them.
Don't you think so? They have

an upstairs and a down stairs, it
seems.

Like the Wrens I wrote about
last month, they prefer to live in
swampy land and along rivers.
They nearly always find a hole
in a decayed willow tree for their
nest — low down. This isn't a
willow tree, though.

Whenever I show you a pair
of birds, always pick out the
father and the mother bird. You
will usually find that one has
more color than the other.
Which one is it? Maybe you
know why this is. If you don't
I am sui'e your teacher can tell
you. Don't you remember in the
Bobolink family how differently
Mr. and Mrs. Bobolink were
dressed?

I think most of you will agree
with me when I say this is one
of the prettiest pictures you ever
saw.

1 68

rom col, Chi. Acad. Sciences.

PROTHONOTARY WARBLER.

THE PROTHONTARY, OR GOLDEN SWAMP WARBLER.

(^ HE Golden Swamp Warbler is
one of the very handsomest
of American birds, being noted
for the pureness and mellow-
ness of its plumage. Baird notes that
the habits of this beautiful and inter-
esting warbler were formerly little
known, its geographical distribution
being somewdiat irregular and over a
narrow range. It is found in the West
Indies and Central America as a mi-
grant, and in the southern region of
the United States. Further west the
range widens, and it appears as far
north as Kansas, Central Illinois, and
Missouri.

Its favorite resorts are creeks and
lagoons overshadowed by large trees,
as well as the borders of sheets of
water and the interiors of forests. It
returns early in March to the Southern
states, but to Kentucky not before the
last of April, leaving in October. A
siugle brood only is raised in a season.
A very pretty nest is sometimes
built within a Woodpecker's hole in a
stump of a tree, not more than three
feet high. Where this occurs the nest
is not shaped round, but is made to
conform to the irregular cavity of the
stump. This cavity is deepest at one
end, and the nest is closely packed
with dried leaves, broken bits of
grasses, stems, mosses, decayed wood,
and other material, the upper part
interwoven with fine roots, varying in
size, but all strong, wiry, and slender,
and lined with hair.

Other nests have been discovered
which were circular in shape. In one

instance the nest was built in a brace
hole in a mill, where the birds could
be watched closely as they carried in
the materials. They were not alarmed
by the presence of the observer but
seemed quite tame.

So far from being noisy and vocifer-
ous, Mr. Ridgway describes it as one
of the most silent of all the warblers,
while Mr. W. Brewster maintains that in
restlessness few birds equal this species.
Not a nook or corner of his domain but
is repeatedly visited during the dav.
" Now he sings a few times from the
top of some tall willow that leans out
over the stream, sitting motionless
among the marsh foliage, fully aware,
perhaps, of the protection afforded by
his harmonizing tints. The next
moment he descends to the cool
shadows beneath, where dark, coffee-
colored waters, the overflow of a pond
or river, stretch back among the trees.
Here he loves to hop about the floating
drift-wood, wet by the lapping of pul-
sating wavelets, now following up some
long, inclining, half submerged log,
peeping into every crevice and occas-
ionally dragging forth from its con-
cealment a spider or small beetle, turn-
ing alternately its bright yellow breast
and olive back towards the light; now
jetting his beautiful tail, or quivering
his wings tremulously, he darts off
into some thicket in response to a call
from his mate ; or, flying to a neigh-
boring tree trunk, clings for a moment
against the mossy hole to pipe his little
strain, or look up the exact where-
abouts of some suspected insect prize."

171

THE INDIGO BUNTING.

[^ HE Indigo Bunting's arrival
at its summer home is usually
in the early part of May,
where it remains until about
the middle of September. It is numer-
ous in the eastern and middle states,
inhabiting the continent and seacoast
islands from INIexico, where they
winter, to Nova Scotia. It is one of
the very smallest of our birds, and
also one of the most attractive. Its
favorite haunts are gardens, fields of
deep clover, the borders of woods, and
roadsides, where, like the Woodpecker,
it is frequently seen perched on the
fences.

It is extremely active and neat in
its manners and an untiring singer,
morning, noon, and night his rapid
chanting being heard, sometimes loud
and sometimes hardly audible, as if he
were becoming quite exhausted by his
musical efforts. He mounts the highest
tops of a large tree and sings for half
an hour together. The song is not
one uninterrupted strain, but a repe-
tition of short notes, " commencing
loud and, rapid, and full, and by almost
imperceptible gradations for six or
eight seconds until they seem hardly
articulated, as if the little minstrel
were unable to stop, and, after a short
pause, beginning again as before."
Baskett says that in cases of serenade
and wooing he may mount the tip
sprays of tall trees as he sings and
abandon all else to melody till the
engrossing business is over.

The Indigo Bird sings with equal
animation whether it be ]\Iay or
August, the vertical sun of the dog
days having no diminishing effect
upon his enthusiasm. It is well

known that in certain lights his plum-
age appears of a rich sky blue, varying
to a tint of vivid verdigris oreen, so
that the bird, flitting from one place
to another, appears to under^^o an
entire change of color.

The Indigo Bunting fixes his nest
in a low bush, long rank grass, grain,
or clover, suspended by two twigs,
flax being the material used, lined
with fine dry grass. It had been
known, however, to build in the hollow
of an apple tree. The eggs, generally
five, are bluish or pure white. The
same nest is often occupied season
after season. One which had been
used for five successive summers, was
repaired each year with the same
material, matting that the birds had
evidently taken from the covering of
grape vines. The nest was very neatly
and thoroughly lined with hair.

The Indigo feeds upon the ground,
his food consisting mainly of the seed
of small grasses and herbs. The male
while moulting assumes very nearly
the color of the female, a dull brown,
the rich plumage not returning for
two or three months. INIrs. Osgood
Wright says of this tiny creature:
" Like all the bright-hued birds he is
beset by enemies both of earth and
sky, but his sparrow instinct, which
has a love for mother earth, bids him
build near the ground. The dangers
of the nesting-time fall mostly to his
share, for his dull brown mate is easily
overlooked as an insignificant sparrow.
Nature always gives a plain coat to
the wives of these gayly dressed
cavaliers, for her primal thought is the
safety of the home and its young life."

172

cni. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

INDIGO BUNTING.

THE NIGHT HAWK.

(^ HE range of the Night Hawk,
also known as " Bull-bat,"
"Mosquito Hawk," "Will o'
the Wisp," "Pisk," "Piram-
idig," and sometimes erroneously as
"Whip-poor-will," being frequently
mistaken for that bird, is an extensive
one. It is only a summer visitor
throughout the United States and
Canada, generally arriving from its
winter haunts in the Bahamas, or
Central and South America in the
latter part of April, reaching the
more northern parts about a month
later, and leaving the latter again in
large straggling flocks about the end
of August, moving leisurely southward
and disappearing gradually along our
southern border about the latter part
of October. Major Bendire says its
migrations are very extended and
cover the greater part of the American
continent.

The Night Hawk, in making its
home, prefers a well timbered country.
Its common name is somewhat of a
misnomer, as it is not nocturnal in its
habits. It is not an uncommon .sight
to see numbers of these birds on the
wing on bright sunny days, but it
does most of its hunting in cloudy
weather, and in the early morning and
evening, returning to rest soon after
dark. On bright moonlight nights it
flies later, and its calls are sometimes
heard as late as eleven o'clock.

"This species is one of the most
graceful birds on the wing, and its
aerial evolutions are truly wonderful ;
one moment it may be seen soaring
through space without any apparent
movement of its pinions, and again its
swift flight is accompanied by a good
deal of rapid flapping of the wings,
like that of Falcons, and this is more
or less varied by numerous twistings
and turnings. While constantly
darting here and there in pursuit
of its prey," says a traveler, "I
have seen one of these birds shoot

almost perpendicularly upward after
an insect, with the swiftness of an
arrow. The Night Hawk's tail
appears to assist it greatly in these
sudden zigzag changes, being partly
expanded during most of its compli-
cated movements."

Night Hawks are sociable birds,
especially on the wing, and seem to
enjoy each other's company. Their
squeaking call note, sounding like
"Speek-speek," is repeated at intervals.
These aerial evolutions are principally
confined to the mating season. On
the ground the movements of this
Hawk are slow, unsteady, and more or
less laborious. Its food consists mainly
of insects, such as flies and mosquitos,
small beetles, grass-hoppers, and the
small night-flying moths, all of which
are caught on the wing. A useful
bird, it deserves the fullest protection.

The favorite haunts of the Night
Hawk are the edges of forests and
clearings, burnt tracts, meadow lands
along river bottoms, and cultivated
fields, as well as the flat mansard roofs
in many of our larger cities, to which
it is attracted by the large amount of
food found there, especially about
electric lights. During the heat of
the day the Night Hawk may be seen
resting on limbs of trees, fence rails,
the flat surface of lichen-covered rock,
on stone walls, old logs, chimney tops,
and on railroad tracks. It is very rare
to find it on the ground.

The nesting-time is June and July.
No nest is made, but two eggs are
deposited on the bare ground, fre-
quently in very exposed situations, or
in slight depressions on flat rocks,
between rows of corn, and the like.
: Only one brood is raised. The birds
sit alternately for about sixteen days.
There is endless variation in the
marking of the eggs, and it is con-
sidered one of the most difiicult to
describe satisfactorily.

175

THE NIGHT HAWK.

As you will see from my name,
I am a bird of the night. Day-
time is not at all pleasino- to me
beeause of its brightness and
noise.

I like the cool, dark evenings
when the insects fly around the
house-tops. They are my food
and it needs a quick bird to
catch them. If you will notice
my flight, you will see it is swift
and graceful. AYlien hunting
insects we go in a crowd. It is
seldom that people see us be-
cause of the darkness. Often w^e
stay near a stream of water, for
the fog which rises in the night
hides us from the insects on
which we feed.

None of us sing well — we have
only a few doleful notes wdiich
frighten people who do not
understand our habits.

In the daytime we seek the
darkest pai't of the Avoods, and

perch lengthwise on the branches
of trees, just as our cousins the
AYhippoorwills do. AYe could
perch crosswise just as well.
Can you think why we do not?
If there be no woods near, we
just roost upon the ground.

Our plumage is a mottled
brown — the same color of the
bark on which we rest. Our
eggs are laid on the gi'ound, for
we do not care to build nests.
There are only two of them, dull
white with grayish brown marks
on them.

Sometimes we lay our eggs on
flat roofs in cities, and stay there
during the day, but we prefer
the country where there is good
pasture land. I think my cousin
Whippooi'will is to talk to you
next month. People think we
are very much alike. You can
judge for yourself when you see
his picture.

176

THE WOOD THRUSH.

"With what a clear
And ravishing sweetness sang the plaintive Thrush ;
I love to hear his delicate rich voice,
ChantiiiCT through all the gloomy day, when loud
Amid the trees is dropping the big rain,
And gray mists wrap the hill ; fora5'e the sweeter
His song is when the dav is sad and dark."

O many common names
has the Wood Thrush
that he would seem to be
quite well known to every
one. Some call him the
Bell Thrush, others Bell Bird, others
again Wood Robin, and the French
Canadians, who love his delicious
song-, Greve des Bois and Merle Taune.
In spite of all this, however, and
although a common species through-
out the temperate portions of eastern
North America, the Wood Thrush can
hardly be said to be a well-known bird
in the same sense as the Robin, the
Cat-bird, or other more familiar
species ; " but to every inhabitant of
rural districts his song, at least, is
known, since it is of such a character
that no one with the slightest appre-
ciation of harmony can fail to be
impressed by it."

Some writers maintain that the
Wood Thrush has a song of a richer
and more melodious tone than that of
any other American bird ; and that,
did it possess continuity, would be
incomparable.

Damp woodlands and shaded dells
are favorite haunts of this Thrush, but
on some occasions he will take up his
residence in parks within large cities.
He is not a shy bird, yet it is not often
that he ventures far from the wild
wood of his preference.

The nest is commonly built upon a
horizontal branch of a low tree, from
six to ten — rarely much more — feet from
the ground, The eggs are from three
to five in number, of a imiform
greenish color; thus, like the nest,
resembling those of the Robin, except
that thev are smaller.

In spite of the fact that his name
indicates his preference for the woods,
we have seen this Thrush, in parks and
gardens, his brown back and spotted
breast making him unmistakable as
he hops over the grass for a few yards,
and pauses to detect the movement of
a worm, seizing it vigorously a moment
after.

He eats ripening fruits, especially
strawberries and gooseberries, but no
bird can or does destroy so many
snails, and he is much less an enemy
than a friend of the gardener. It
would be well if our park commis-
sioners would plant an occasional fruit
tree — cherry, apple, and the like — in
the public parks, protecting them from
the ravages of every one except the
birds, for whose sole benefit they
should be set aside. The trees would
also serve a double purpose of orna-
ment and use, and the youth who
grow up in the city, and rarely ever
see an orchard, would become familiar
with the appearance of fruit trees.
The birds would annually increase in
numbers, as they would not only be
attracted to the parks thereby, but
they would build their nests and rear
their young under far more favorable
conditions than now exist. The criti-
cism that birds are too largely de-
stroved by hunters should be supple-
mented by the complaint that they
are also allowed to perish for want of
food, especially in seasons of unusual
scarcity or severity. Food should be
scattered through the parks at proper
times, nesting boxes provided — not a
few, but many — and then

The happy mother of every brood
Will twitter notes of gratitude.

179

THE WOOD THRUSH.

The Bird of Solitude.

Of all the Thrushes this one
is probably the most beautiful.
I think the picture shows it.
Look at his mottled neck and
breast. Notice his large bright
eye. Those who have studied
birds think he is the most intel-
ligent of them all.

He is the largest of the
Thrushes and has more color in
his plumage. All* who have
heard him agree that he is one
of the sweetest singers among
birds.

Unlike the Robin, Catbird, or
Brown Thrush, he enjoys being
heard and not seen.

His sweetest song may be
heard in the cool of the morning
or evening. It is then that his
rich notes, sounding like a flute,
are heard from the deep wood.
The weather does not affect his
song. Rain or shine, wet or dry,
he sings, and sings, and sings.

During the light of day the
AVood Thrush likes to stay in
the cool shade of the woods.

Along towai'd evening, after sun-
set, when other birds are settling
themselves for the night, out of
the wood you will hear his even-
ing song.

It begins with a strain that
sounds like, ^^Come with me,"
and by the time he finishes you
are in love with his song.

The Wood Thrush is very
quiet in his habits. So dilf erent
from the noisy, restless Catbird.

The only time that he is noisy
is when his young ai'e in danger.
Then he is as active as any of
them.

A Wood Thrush's nest is very
much like a Robin's. It is made
of leaves, rootlets and fine twigs
woven together with an inner
wall of mud, and lined with fine
rootlets.

The eggs, three to five, are
much like the Robin's.

Compare the picture of the
Wood Thrush with that of the
Robin or Bi'own Thrush and see
which you think is the prettiest.

180

♦ \v

•V

THE AMERICAN CATBIRD.

HE CATBIRD derives his name
from a fancied resemblance of
some of his notes to the mew
of the domestic cat. He is a
nati\e of America, and is one of the
most familiarly known of our famous
songsters. He is a true thrush, and is
one of the most affectionate of our
birds. Wilson has well described his
nature, as follows :

" In passing through the woods in
summer I have sometimes amused
myself with imitating the violent
chirping or clucking of young birds,
in order to observe what different
species were round me; for such sounds
at such a season in the woods are no
le>s alarming to the feathered tenants
of the bushes than the cry of fire or
murder in the street is to the inhabi-
tants of a large city. On such occasion
of alarm and consternation, the Cat-
bird is first to make his appearance,
not single but sometimes half a dozen
at a time, flying from different quarters
to the spot. At this time those who
are disposed to play on his feelings
ma}' almost throw him into a fit, his
emotion and agitation are so great at
what he supposes to be the distressful
cries of his young. He hurries back-
ward and forward, with hanging wings,
open mouth, calling out louder and
faster, and actually screaming with
distress, until he appears hoarse with
his exertions. He attempts no offen-
sive means, but he wails, he implores,
in the most pathetic terms with which
nature has supplied him, and wiih an
agony of feeling which is truh' affect-
ing. At any other season the most
perfect imitations have no effect what-
ever on him."

The Catbird is a courageous little
creature, and in defense of its young
it is so bold that it will contrive to
drive away any snake that max
approach its nest, snakes being its
special aversion. His voice is meilov;
and rich, and is a compound of
many of the gentle trills and sweet
undulations of our various woodland
choristers, delivered with apparent
caution, and with all the attention and
softness neces-ary to enable the per-
former to please the ear of hi."- mate.
Each cadence passes on without falter-
ing and \ou are sure to recognize the
song he so sweetly imitates. While
they are are all good sinq-ers, occa-
sionally there is one which excels all
his neighbors, as is frequently the case
among canaries.

The Catbird builds in syringa
bushes, and other shrubs. In New
England he is best known as a garden
bird. Mabel Osgood Wright, in
" Birdcraft," says : " I have found it
nesting in all sorts of places, from an
alder bush, overhanging a lonely
brook, to a scrub apple in an open
field, never in deep woods, and it is
only in its garden home, and in the
hedging bushes of an adjoining field,
that it develops its best qualities —
'lets itself out,' so to speak. The
Catbirds in the garden are so tame
that they will frequently perch on the
edoe of the hammock in which I am
sitting, and when I move they only
hop awa\' a few feet with a little
flutter. The male is undoubtedly a
mocker, when he so desires, but lie
has an individual and most delightail
song, filled with unexpected turns and
bouvant melodv."

183

THE CATBIRD.

AVhat do you think of this nest
of eggs? A\'hat do you suppose
Mrs. Catbird's thoughts are as
she looks at them so tenderly?
Don't you think she was very
kind to let me take the nest out
of the hedge where I found it, so
you could see the pretty greenish
blue eggs ? I shall place it back
where I got it. Catbirds usually
build their nests in hedges,
briars, or bushes, so they are
never very high from the ground.

Did you ever hear the Catbird
sing? He is one of the sweetest
singers and his song is some-
thing like his cousin's, the
Brown Thrush, only not so loud.

He can imitate the songs of
other birds and the sounds of
many animals. He can mew like
a cat, and it is for this reason
that he is called " Catbird." His
sweetest song, though, is soft
and mellow and is sung at just
such times as this — when think-

ing of the nest, the eggs, or the
young.

The Catbird is a good neigh-
bor among birds. If any other
bird is in trouble of any sort, he
will do all he can to relieve it.
He will even feed and care for
little birds whose parents have
left them. Don't you think he
ought to have a prettier name ?
Now remember, the Catbird is a
Thrush. I want you to keep
track of all the Thrushes as they
appear in '' Birds." I shall try
to show you a Thrush each
month.

Next month you shall see the
sweetest singer of. American
birds. He, too, is a Thrush. I
wonder if you know what bird I
mean. Ask your mamma to buy
you a book called " Bird Ways."
It was written by a lady who
spent years watching and study-
ing birds. She tells so many
cute things about the Catbird.

184

\y<^k

(

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

CATBIRD.

BIRDS.

IuL,usTRflTED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

Vol. I.

JUNE, 1897.

No. 6.

BIRD SONG.

(FT-

"I cannot love the man who doth not love,
As men love light, the song of happy birds.

T is indeed fitting that the
great poets have ever been the
best interpreters of the songs of
OLM- birds. In many of the plays of
Shakespeare, especially where the
scene is laid in the primeval forest, his
most delicious bits of fancy are
inspired by the flitting throng.
Wordsworth and Tennyson, and many
of the minor English poets, are pervaded
with bird notes, and Shelley's master-
piece, The Skylark, will long survive
his greater and more ambitious poems.
Our own poet, Cranch, has left one
immortal stanza, and Bryant, and
Longfellow, and Lowell, and Whittier,
and Emerson have written enough
of poetic melody, the direct inspiration
of the feathered inhabitants of the
woods, to fill a good-sized volume. In
prose, no one has said finer things than
Thoreau, who probed nature with a
deeper ken than any of his contem-
poraries. He is to be read, and read,
and read.

But just what meaning should be
attached to a bird's notes — some of
which are "the least disagreeable of
noises" — will probably never be dis-
covered. They do seem to express
almost every feeling of which the
human heart is capable. We wonder
if the Mocking Bird understands what
all these notes mean. He is so fine an

imitator that it is hard to believe he is
not doing more than mimicking the
notes of other birds, but rather that
he really does moc^k them with a sort
of defiant sarcasm. He banters them
less, perhaps, than the Cat Bird, but
one would naturally expect all other
birds to fly at him with vengeful
purpose. But perhaps the birds are
not so sensitive as their human
brothers, who do not always look upon
imitation as the highest flattery.

A gentleman who kept a note-book,
describes one of the matinee perform-
ances of the Mocker, which he attended
by creeping under a tent curtain. He
sat at the foot of a tree on the top of
which the bird was perched uncon-
scious of his presence. The Mocker
gave one of the notes of the Guinea-
hen, a fine imitation of the Cardinal,
or Red Bird, an exact reproduction of
the note of the Phoebe, and some of the
difficult notes of the Yellow-breasted
Chat. "Now I hear a young chicken
peeping. Now the Carolina Wren sings,
'cheerily, cheerily, cheerily' Now a
small bird is shrilling with a fine insect
tone. A Flicker, a Wood-pewee, and a
Phoebe follow in quick succession.
Then a Tufted Titmouse squeals.
To display his versatility, he gives a
dull performance which couples the
'go-back ' of the Guinea fowl with the

187

plaint of the Wood-pewee, two widely-
diverse vocal sounds. With all the
performance there is such perfect self-
reliance and consciousness of superior
ability that one feels that the singer
has but to choose what bird he will
imitate next."

Nor does the plaintive, melancholy
note of the Robin, that "pious" bird,
altogether express his character. He
has so many lovely traits, according to
his biographers, that we accept him
unhesitatingly as a truly good bird.
Didn't he once upon a time tenderly
cover with leaves certain poor little
wanderers? Isn't he called "The Bird
of the Morning?" And evening as
well, for you can hear his sad voice
long after the sun has himself retired.
The poet Coleridge claims the credit
of first using the Owl's cry in poetry,
and his musical note Tu-whit^ tu-who!
has made him a favorite with the
poets. Tennyson has fancifully

played upon it in his little "Songs to
the Owl," the last stanza of which
runs :

" I would mock thy chaut anew ;

But I cannot mimic it,

Not a whit of thy tuhoo,

Thee to woo to thy tuwhit,

Thee to woo to thy tuwhit.

With a lengthen'd loud halloo,
Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwhit, tuhoo-o-o. "

But Coleridge was not correct in his
claim to precedence in the use of the
Owl's cry, for Shakespeare preceded
him, and Tennyson's "First Song to
the Owl" is modeled after that at the
end of "Love's Labor Lost:"

" When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl
Then nightly sings the staring Owl,

Tu-who ;
Tu-whit, tu-who, a merry note."

In references to birds, Tennyson is
the most felicitous of all poets and the
exquisite swallow-song in " The
Princess" is especially recommended
to the reader's perusal.

Birds undoubtedly sing for the same
reasons that inspire to utterance all
the animated creatures in the universe.

Insects sing and bees, crickets, locusts,
and mosquitos. Frogs sing, and mice,
monkeys, and woodchucks. We have
recently heard even an English
Sparrow do something better than
chipper ; some very pretty notes
escaped him, perchance, because his
heart was overflowing with love-
thoughts, and he was very merry, know-
ing that his affection was reciprocated.
The elevated railway stations, about
whose eaves the ugly, hastily built
nests protrude everywhere, furnish
ample explanation of his reasons for
singing.

Birds are more musical at certain
times of the day as w^U as at certain
seasons of the year. During the hour
between dawn and sunrise occurs the
grand concert of the feathered folk.
There are no concerts during the
day — only individual songs. After
sunset there seems to be an effort to
renew the chorus, but it cannot be
compared to the morning concert
when they are practically undisturbed
by man.

Birds sing because they are happy.
Bradford Torrey has given with much
felicity his opinion on the subject, as
follows :

"I recall a Cardinal Grosbeak, whom
I heard several years ago, on the bank
of the Potomac river. An old soldier
had taken me to visit the Great Falls,
and as we were clambering over the
rocks this Grosbeak began to sing;
and soon, without any hint from me,
and without knowing who the invisible
musician was, my companion remarked
upon the uncommon beauty of the
song. The Cardinal is always a great
singer, having a voice which, as
European writers say, is almost equal
to the Nightingale's ; but in this case
the more stirring, martial quality of
the strain had given place to an
exquisite mellowness, as if it were,
what I have no doubt it was,
A Song of Love."

-C. C. Marble.

[to be continued.]
i88

col. F. M. WooJruft.

YELLOW-THROATED VIKi.O.

THE YELLOW THROATED VIREO.

(^ HE popular name of this species
of an attractive family is
Yellow Throated Greenlet,
and our young readers will
find much pleasure in watching its
pretty movements and listening to its
really delightful song whenever they
\isit the places where it loves to spend
the happy hours of summer. In some
respects it is the most remarkable of
all the species of the family found in
the United States. "The Birds ot
Illinois," a book that may be profitably
studied by the young naturalist, states
that it is decidedly the finest singer,
has the loudest notes of admonition
and reproof, and is the handsomest in
plumage, and hence the more attractive
to the student.

A recognized observer says he has
found it only in the woods, and mostly
in the luxuriant forests of the bottom
lands. The writer's experience accords
with that of Audubon and Wilson,
the best authorities in their day, but
the habits of birds vary greatly with
locality, and in other parts of the
country, notably m New England, it
is verv familiar, delis^hting in the
companionship of man. It breeds in
eastern North America, and winters in
Florida, Cuba and Central America.
The Vireo makes a very deep nest,

suspended by its upper edge, between
the forks of a horizontal branch. The
eggs are white, generally with a few
reddish brown blotches. All author-
ities agree as to the great beauty of the
nest, though they differ as to its exact
location. It is a woodland bird, lov-
ing tall trees and running water,
"haunting the same places as the
Solitary Vireo." During migration
the Yellow-throat is seen in orchards
and in the trees along side-walks and
lawns, mingling his golden colors with
the rich green of June leaves.

The Vireos, or Greenlets, are like
the Warblers in appearance and habits.
We have no birds, says Torrey, that
are more unsparing of their music;
they sing from morning till night,
and — some of them, at least — con-
tinue theirs till the very end of the
season. The song of the Yellow-
throat is rather too monotonous and
persistent. It is hard sometimes not
to get out of patience with its ceasless
and noisy iteration of its simple tune;
especially if you are doing your utmost
to catch the notes of some rarer and
more refined songster. This is true
also of some other birds, whose occas-
ional silence would add much to their
attractiveness.

191

THE MOCKING BIRD.

Some brig'lit inoniing" this
month, you may hear a Robin's
song from a large tree near by.
A Red Bird answers him and
then the Oriole chimes in. I can
see you looking around to find
the birds that sing so sweetly.
All this time a gay bird sits
among the green leaves and
laughs at you as you try to find
three birds when only one is
there.

It is the Mocking Bird or
Mocker, and it is he who has
been fooling you with his song.
Nature has given him lots of
music and gifted him with the
power of imitating the songs of
other birds and sounds of other
animals.

He is certainly the sweetest of
our song birds. The English
Nightingale alone is his rival.
I tiiink, howevei', if our Mocker
could hear the Nightingale's
song, he could learn it.

The Mocking Bird is another
of our Thrushes. By this time
you have surely made up your
minds that the Thrushes are
sweet sina'ei's.

The Mocker seems to take
delight in fooling people. One
gentleman while sitting on his
porch lieai'd what he thought to
be a young bird in disti'css. lie
went in the direction of the
sound and soon heard the same
cry behind him. Tie turned and
went back toward the porch,
when he heard it in another
direction. Soon he found out
that Mr. Mocking Bird had been
fooling him, and was flying
about from shrub to shrub
making that sound.

His nest is carelessly made
of almost anything he can find.
The small, bluish-green eggs
are much like the Catbird's eggs.

Little Mocking Birds look
very much like the young of
other Thrushes, and do not
become Mockers like their par-
ents, until they are full grown.

AYhich one of tlie other
Thrushes that you have seen in
Birds does the Mocking Bird
i-esemble ?

He is the only Thrush that
sings while on the wing. All
of the others sing only while
perching.

192

.MERICAN MOCKING- BIRD.

JUNE.

Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,

Gipsy, whose roof is every spreading tree,

June is the pearl of our New England year,

Still a surprisal, though expected long,

Her coming startles. Long she lies in wait, •

Makes many a feint, peeps forth, draws coyly back,

Then, from some southern ambush in the sky.

With one great gush of blossoms storms the world.

A week ago the Sparrow was divine;

The Bluebird, shifting his light load of song

From post to post along the cheerless fence,

Was as a rhymer ere the poet came ;

But now, O rapture! sunshine winged and voiced.

Pipe blown through by the warm, wild breath of the West,

Shepherding his soft droves of fleecy cloud,

Gladness of woods, skies, waters, all in one,

The Bobolink has come, and, like the soul

Of the sweet season vocal in a bird,

Gurgles in ecstasy we know not what

Save June/ Dear June! Now God be praised for June.

— LowEiX.

#«# '

. J

THE BLACK-CROWNED NIGHT HERON.

[AT a beautiful creature
this is! A mounted spec-
imen requires, like the
Snowy Owl, the greatest
care and a dust tight glass case to pre-
serve its beauty. Dr. Coues' account
of it should be read by those who are
interested in the science of ornithology.
It is a common bird in the United
States and British Provinces, being
migratory and resident in the south.
Heronries, sometimes of vast extent, to
which they return year after year, are
their breeding places. Each nest con-
tains three or four eggs of a pale, sea-
green color. Observe the peculiar
plumes, sometimes two, in this case
three, which spring from the back of
the head. These usually lie close
together in one bundle, but are often
blown apart by the wind in the form
of streamers. This Heron derives its
name from its habits, as it is usually
seen flying at night, or in the early
evening, when it utters a sonorous cry
oi quaw or quaivk. It is often called
Quawk or Qua-Bird.

On the return of the Black-Crowned
Night Heron in April, he promptly
tales possession of his former home,
which is likely to be the most solitary
and deeply shaded part of a cedar
swamp. Groves of swamp oak in
retired and water covered places, are
also sometimes chosen, and the males
often select tall trees on the bank of
the river to roost upon during the day.
About the beginning of twilight they
direct their flight toward the marshes,
uttering in a hoarse and hollow tone,
the sound qua. At this hour all the
nurseries in the swamps are emptied
of their occupants, who disperse about
the marshes along the ditches and
river shore in search of food. Some
of these nesting places have been
occupied every spring and summer for

many years by nearly a hundred pair
of Herons. In places where the cedars
have been cut down and removed the
Herons merely move to another part
of the swamp, not seeming greatly dis-
turbed thereby; but when attacked and
plundered they have been known to
remove from an ancient home in a
body to some unknown place.

The Heron's nest is plain enough,
being built of sticks. On entering
the swamp in the neighborhood of one
of the heronries the noise of the old
and young birds equals that made by
a band of Indians in conflict. The
instant an intruder is discovered, the
entire flock silently rises in the air
and removes to the tops of the trees in
another part of the woods, while sen-
tries of eight or ten birds make occas-
ional circuits of inspection.

The young Herons climb to the tops
of the highest trees, but do not attempt
to fly. While it is probable these
birds do not see well by day, they
possess an exquisite faculty of hear-
ing, which renders it almost impossi-
ble to approach their nesting places
without discovery. Hawks hover over
the nests, making an occasional sweep
among the young, and the Bald Eagle
has been seen to cast a hungry eye
upon them.

The male and female can hardly be
distinguished. Both have the plumes,
but there is a slight difference in size.

The food of the Night Heron, or
Qua-Bird, is chiefly fish, and his two
interei^ting traits are tireless watchful-
ness and great appetite. He digests
his food with such rapidity that how-
ever much he may eat, he is always
ready to eat again ; hence he is little
benefited by what he does eat, and is
ever in appearance in the same, half-
starved state, whether food is abundant
or scarce.

^9 7

THE RING-BILLED GULL.

(^ HE Ring-billed Gull is a com-
mon species througliout east-
ern North America, breeding
'^-^~ throughout the northern tier
of the United States, whose northern
border is the limit of its summer
home. As a rule in winter it is found
in Illinois and south to the Gulf of
Mexico. It is an exceedingly vorac-
ious bird, continually skimming over
the surface of the water in search of
its finny prey, and often following
shoals of fish to great distances. The
birds congregate in large numbers at
their breeding places, which are rocky
islands or headlands in the ocean.
Most of the families of Gulls are some-
what migratory, visiting northern
regions in summer to rear their young.
The following lines give with remark-
able fidelity the wing habits and
movements of this tireless bird:

" On nimble wing the gull
Sweeps booming liy, intent to cull
Voracious, from the billows' breast,
Marked far away, his destined feast.
Behold him now, deep plunging, dip
His sunny pinion's sable tip
In the green wave ; now highly skim
With wheeling flight the water's brim;
Wave in blue sky his silver sail
Aloft, and frolic with the gale,
Or sink again his breast to lave,
And float upon the foaming wave.
Oft o'er his form jour eyes may roam.
Nor know him from the feathery foam,
Nor 'mid the rolling waves, your ear
On yelling blasl his clamor hear."

This Gull lives principally on fish,
but also greedily devours insects. He
also picks up small animals or animal
substances with which he meets, and,
like the vulture, devours them even in a
putrid condition. He walks well and
quickly, swims bouyantly, h'ing in the
water like an air bubble, and dives with
facility, but to no great depth.

As the breeding time approaches
the Gulls begin to assemble in flocks,
uniting to form a numerous host
Even upon our own shores their nest-
ing places are often occupied by many
hundred pairs, whilst further north
they congregate in countless multi-
tudes. They literally cover the rocks
on which their nests are placed, the
brooding parents pressing against each
other.

Wilson says that the Gull, when
riding bouyantly upon the waves and
weaving a sportive dance, is employed
by the poets as an emblem of purity,
or as an accessory to the horrors of a
storm, by his shrieks and wild piercing
cries. In his habits he is the vulture
of the ocean, while in grace of motion
and beauty of plumage he is one of
the most attractive of the splendid
denizens of the ocean and lakes.

The Ring-billed Gull's nest varies
with localities. Where there is grass'
and sea weed, these are carefully
heaped together, but where these fail
the nest is of scanty material. Two
to four large oval eggs of brownish
green or greenish brown, spotted with
grey and brown, are hatched in three
or four weeks, the young appearing in
a thick covering of speckled down.
If born on the ledge of a high rock,
the chicks remain there until their
wings enable them to leave it, but if
they come from the shell on the sand
of the beach they trot about like little
chickens. During the first few days
they are fed with half-digested food
from the parents' crops, and then with
freshly caught fish.

The Gull rarely flies alone, though
occasionally one is seen far away from
the water soaring in majestic solitude
above the tall buildings of the citv.

198

THE MOCKING BIRD.

(^ HE Mocking Bird is regarded as
the chief of songsters, for in
addition to his remarkable
powers of imitation, he is
without a rival in variety of notes.
The Brown Thrasher is thought by
many to have a sweeter song, and one
equally vigorous, but there is a bold
brilliancy in the performance of the
Mocker that is peculiarly his own, and
which has made him par excellence
the forest extemporizer of vocal mel-
ody. About this of course there will
always be a difference of opinion, as
in the case of the human melodists.

So well known are the habits and
characteristics of the Mocking Bird
that nearly all that could be written
about him would be but a repetition
of what has been previously said.
In Illinois, as in many other states,
its distribution is very irregular, its
absence from some localities which
seem in every way suited being very
difficult to account for. Thus, accord-
ing to "Birds of Illinois," while one or
two pairs breed in the outskirts of
Mount Carmel nearly every season, it
is nowhere in that vicinity a common
bird. A few miles further north, how-
ever, it has been found almost abund-
ant. On one occasion, during a three
mile drive from town, six males were
seen and heard singing along the road-
side. Mr. H. K. Coale says that he
saw a mocking bird in Stark county,
Indiana, sixty miles southeast of Chi-
cago, January i, 1884 ; that Mr.
Green Smith had met with it at Ken-
sington Station, Illinois, and that sev-
eral have been observed in the parks
and door-yards of Chicago. In the
extreme southern portion of the state
the species is abundant, and is resident
through the year.

The Mocking Bird does not properly
belong among the birds of the middle
or eastern states, but as there are

many records of its nesting in these
latitudes it is thought to be safe to
include it. Mrs. Osgood Wright states
that individuals have often been seen
in the city parks of the east, one hav-
ing lived in Central Park, New York
city, late into the winter, throughout
a cold and extreme season. They
have reared their young as far north
as Arlington, near Boston, where they
are noted, however, as rare summer
residents. Dr. J. A. Allen, editor ot The
Auk^ notes that they occasionally nest
in the Connecticut Valley.

The Mocking Bird has a habit of
singing and fluttering in the middle of
the night, and in different individuals
the song varies, as is noted of many
birds, particularly canaries. The song
is a natural love song, a rich dreamy
melody. The mocking song is imita-
tive of the notes of all the birds of
field, forest, and garden, broken into
fragments.

The Mocker's nest is loosely made
of leaves and grass, rags, feathers, etc.,
plain and comfortable. It is never far
from the ground. The eggs are four
to six, bluish green, soattered with
shades of brown.

Wilson's description of the Mocking
Bird's song will probably never be
surpassed : " With expanded wings and
tail glistening with white, and the
bouyant gayety of his action arresting
the eye, as his song does most irresist-
ably the ear, he sweeps around with
enthusiastic ecstacy, and mounts and
descends as his song swells or dies
away. And he often deceives the
sportsman, and sends him in search of
birds that are not perhaps within. miles
of him, but whose notes he exactly
imitates."

Very useful is he, eating large spi-
ders and grasshoppers, and the des-
tructive cottonworm.

THE LOGGERHEAD SHRIKE.

RAMBLER in the fields and
woodlands durini; early
spriny^ or the latter part
ot antuiini is often snr-
priscd at finding insects,
grasshoppers, dragon flies, beetles of
all kinds, and even larger game, mice,
and small birds, impaled on twigs and
thorns. This is apparently crnel
sport, he observes, if he is unacquaint-
ed with the Butcher Bird and his
habits, and he at once attributes it to
the wanton sport of idle children who
have not been led to say.

With hearts to love, with eyes to see,
With e irs to hear their minstrelsy;
Through us no harm, by deed or word,
Shall ever come to any bird.

If he will look about him, however,
the real author of this mischief will
soon be detected as he appears with
other unfortunate little creatures,
which he requires to sustain his own
life and that of his nestlings. The
offender he finds to be the Shrike of
the northern United States, most
properly named the Butcher Bird.
Like all tyrants he is fierce and brave
only in the presence of creatures
weaker than himself, and cowers and
screams with terror if he sees a falcon.
And yet, despite this cruel proceed-
iug, which is an implanted instinct
like that of the dog which buries
bones he never seeks again, there are
few more useful birds than the Shrike.
In the summer he lives on insects,
ninety-eight per cent, of his food for
July and August consisting of insects,
mainly grasshoppers ; and in winter,
when insects are scarce, mice form a
very large proportion of his food.

The Butcher Bird has a very agree-
able song, which is soft and musical,
and he often shows cleverness as a
mocker of other birds. He has been
taught to whistle parts of tunes, and
is as readily tamed as any of our
domestic songsters.

The nest is usuallv found on the

outer limbs of trees, often from fifteen
to thirty feet from the ground. It is
made of long strips of the inner bark
of bass-wood, strengthened on the
sides with a few dry twigs, stems, and
roots, and lined with fine grasses. The
eggs are often six in number, of a
yellowish or clayey-white, blotched
and marbled with dashes of purple,
light brown, and j^urplish gray.
Pretty eggs to study.

Readers of Birds wdio are interested
in ego^s do not need to disturb the
mothers on their nests in order to see
and study them. In all the great
museums specimens of the eggs of
nearly all birds are displa)'ed in cases,
and accurately colored plates have
been made and published by the
Smithsonian Institution and others.
The Chicago Academy of Sciences has
a fine collection of eggs. Many
persons imagine that these institutions
engage in cruel slaughter of birds in
order to collect eggs aud nests. This,
of course, is not true, only the fewest
number being taken, and with the
exclusive object of placing before the
people, not for their amusement but
rather for their instruction, specimens
of birds and animals which shall serve
for their identification in forest and
field.

The Loggerhead Shrike and nest
shown in this number were taken under
the direction of Mr. F. M. Woodruff, at
Worth, 111., about fourteen miles from
Chicago. The nest was in a corner of
an old hedge of Osage Orange, and
about eight feet from the ground. He
says in the Osprey that it took con-
siderable time and patience to build
up a platform of fence boards and old
boxes to enable the photographer to
do his work. The half-eaten body of
a young garter snake was found about
midway between the upper surface of
the nest and the limb above, where it
had been hung up for future use.

THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE.

ALTIMORE Orioles are in-
habitants of the whole of
North America, from Can-
ada to Mexico. They
enter Louisiana as soon as
spring commences there. The name
of Baltimore Oriole has been given it,
because its colors of black and orange
are those of the family arms of Lord
Baltimore, to whom Maryland formerly
belonged. Tradition has it that
George Calvert, the first Baron Balti-
more, worn out and discouraged by
the various trials and rigours of tem-
perature experienced in his Newfound-
land colony in 1628, visited the Vir-
ginia settlement. He explored the
waters of the Chesapeake, and found
the woods and shores teeming with
birds, among them great flocks of
Orioles, which so cheered him by their
beauty of song and splendor of plum-
age, that he took them as good omens
and adopted their colors for his
own.

When the Orioles first arrive the
males are in the majority; they sit in
the spruces calling by the hour, with
lonely querulous notes. In a few days
however, the females appear, and then
the martial music begins, the birds'
golden trumpeting often turning to a
desperate clashing of cymbals when
two males engage in combat, for "the
Oriole has a temper to match his flam-
ing plumage and fights with a will."
This Oriole is remarkably familiar,
and fearless of man, hanging its beau-
tiful nest upon the garden trees, and
even venturing into the street wher-
ever a green tree flourishes. The
materials of which its nest is made are
flax, various kinds of vegetable fibers,
wool, and hair, matted together so as
to resemble felt in consistency. A
number of long horse-hairs are passed
completely through the fibers, sewing
it firmly together with large and irreg-
ular, but strong and judiciously placed

stitching. In one of these nests an
observer found that several of the hairs
used for this purpose measured two
feet in length. The nest is in the
form of a long purse, six or seven
inches in depth, three or four inches
in diameter ; at the bottom is arranged
a heap of soft material in which the
eggs find a warm resting place. The
female seems to be the chief architect,
receiving a constant supply of mater-
ials from her mate, occasionally reject-
ing the fibres or hairs which he may
bring, and sending him off for another
load more to her taste.

Like human builders, the bird im-
proves in nest building by practice,
the best specimens of architecture
being the work of the oldest birds,
though some observers deny this.

The eggs are five in number, and
their general color is whitish-pink,
dotted at the larger end with purplish
spots, and covered at the smaller end
with a great number of fine intersect-
ing lines of the same hue.

In spring the Oriole's food seems to
be almost entirely of an animal nature,
consisting of caterpillars, beetles, and
other insects, which it seldom pursues
on the wing, but seeks with great
activity among the leaves and branches.
Its also eats ripe fruit. The males
of this elegant species of Oriole acquire
the full beauty of their plumage the
first winter after birth.

The Baltimore Oriole is one of the
most interesting features of country
landscape, his movements, as he runs
among the branches of trees, differing
from those of almost all other birds.
Watch him clinging by the feet to
reach an insect so far away as to
require the full extension of the neck,
body, and legs without letting go his
hold. He glides, as it were, along a
small twig, and at other times moves
sidewise for a few steps. His motions
are elegant and stately.

205

THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE.

About the middle of May,
when the leaves are all coining
out to see the bright sunshine,
you may sometimes see, among
the boughs, a bird of beautiful
black and orange plumage.

He looivs like the Orchard
Oriole, whose picture you saw
in May " Birds." It is the Bal-
timore Oriole. He has other
names, such as ''Golden Robin,"
"Fire Bird," ''Hang-nest." I
could tell you how he came to
be called Baltimore Oriole, but
would rather you'd ask your
teacher about it. She can tell
you all about it, and an interest-
ing story it is, I assure you.

You see from the picture why
he is called " Hang-nest."
Maybe you can tell why he
builds his nest that way.

The Orioles usually select for
their nest the longest and slen-
derest twigs, way out on the
highest branches of a large tree.
They like the elm best. From
this they hang their bag-like
nest.

It must be interesting to watch
them build the nest, and it
requires lots of patience, too,
for it usually takes a week or
ten days to build it.

They fasten both ends of a
string to the twigs between
which the nest is to hang. After
fastening many strings like this,
so as to cross one another,
they weave in other strings
crosswise, and this makes a sort
of bag or pouch. Then they put
in the lining.

Of course, it swings and rocks
when the wind blows, and what
a nice cradle it must be for the
baby Orioles?

Orioles like to visit orchards
and eat the bugs, beetles and
caterpillars that injure the trees
and fruit.

There are few birds who do
more good in this way than
Orioles.

Sometimes they eat grapes
from the vines and peck at fruit
on the trees. It is usually be-
cause they want a drink that
they do this.

One good man who had a
large orchard and vineyard
placed pans of water in dif-
ferent places. Not only the
Orioles, but other birds, would
go to the pan for a drink, instead
of pecking at the fruit. Let us
think of this, and wdien we have
a chance, give the birds a drink
of water. They will repay us
with their sweetest songs.

206

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

BALTIMORE ORIOLE.

THE SNOWY OWL.

^ I^EW of all the groups of birds
have such decided markings,
such characteristic distinctions,
as the Owl. There is a singu-
lar resemblance between the face of an
Owl and that of a cat, which is the
more notable, as both of these crea-
tures have much the same habits, live
on the same prey, and are evidently
representatives of the same idea in
their different classes. The Owl, in
fact, is a winged cat, just as the cat is
a furred owl.

The Snowy Owl is one of the hand-
somest of this group, not so much on
account of its size, which is consider-
able, as by reason of the beautiful
white mantle which it wears, and the
large orange eyeballs that shine with
the lustre of a topaz set among the
snowy plumage.

It is a native of the north of Europe
and America, but is also found in the
more northern parts of England, being
seen, though rather a scarce bird, in
the Shetland and Orkney Islands,
where it builds its nest and rears its
young. One will be more likely to
find this owl near the shore, along the
line of salt marshes and woody stubble,
than further inland. The marshes do
not freeze so easily or deep as the iron
bound uplands, and field-mice are more
plentiful in them. It is so fleet of
wing that if its appetite is whetted, it
can follow and capture a Snow Bunt-
ing or a Junco in its most rapid flight.
Like the Hawk Owl, it is a day-fly-
ing bird, and is a terrible foe to the
smaller mammalia, and to various

birds. Mr. Yarrell in his " History of
the British Birds," states that one
wounded on the Isle of Balta disgorged
a young rabbit whole, and that a young
Sandpiper, with its plumage entire,
was found in the stomach of another.

In proportion to its size the Snowy
Owl is a mighty hunter, having been
detected chasing the American hare,
and carrying off wounded Grouse
before the sportsman could secure his
prey. It is also a good fisherman,
posting itself on some convenient spot
overhanging the water, and securing
its finny prey with a lightning-like
grasp of the claw as it passes beneath
the white clad fisher. Sometimes it
will sail over the surface of a stream,
and snatch the fish as they rise for
food. It is also a great lover of lem-
mings, and in the destruction of these
quadruped pests does infinite service
to the agriculturist.

The large round eyes of this owl are
very beautiful. Even by daylight
they are remarkable for their gem-like
sheen, but in the evening they are
even more attractive, glowing like
balls of living fire.

From sheer fatigue these birds often
seek a temporary resting place on
passing ships. A solitary owl, after a
long journey, settled on the rigging of
a ship one night. A sailor who was
ordered aloft, terrified by the two glow-
ing eyes that suddenly opened upon
his own, descended hurriedly to the
deck, declaring to the crew that he
had seen " Davy Jones a-sitting up
there on the main yard."

209

THE SNOWY OWL.

AYhatdo you think of this bird
with his round, puffy head ? You
of course know it is an Owd. I
want you to know him as the
Snowy Owk

Don't you think his face is
some like that of your cat?
This fellow is not full grown,
but only a child. If he were full
grown he would be pure white.
The dark color you see is only
the tips of the feathers. Y"ou
can't see his beak very well for
the soft feathers almost cover it.

His large soft eyes look very
pretty out of the wdiite feathers.
What color would you call them ?
Most owls are quiet during the
day and very busy all night.
The Snowy Owl is not so quiet
daytimes. He flies about con-
siderably and gets most of his
food in daylight.

A hunter wdio was resting
under a tree, on the bank of a
river, tells this of him:

''A Snowy Owl was pei'ched on
the branch of a dead tree that
had fallen into the river. He
sat there looking into the water
and blinking his large eyes.

Suddenly he reached out and
before I could see how he did it,
a fish w^as in his claws."

This certainly show^s that he
can see well in the day time. He
can see best, however, in the
twilight, in cloudy weather or
moonlight. That is the w^ay
with your cat.

The wing feathers of the owl
are different from those of most
birds. They are as soft as dowm.
This is why you cannot hear him
wdien he flies. Owls wdiile perch-
ing are almost always found in
quiet places where they will not
be disturbed.

Did you ever hear the voice of
an owl in the night? If you
never have, you cannot imagine
how dreary it sounds. He surely
is '' The Bird of the Night."

)m col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

SNOWY OWL.

BIRDS AND FARMERS,

From the Forest and Stream.

(^ HE advocates of protection for

^ our small birds present two

(J sets of reasons for preventing

~^~ their killing ; the one senti-
mental, and the other economic.

The sentimental reasons are the
ones most often urged ; they are also
of a kind to appeal with especial force
to those whose responsibility for the
destruction of the birds is greatest.
The women and girls, for whose adorn-
ment birds' plumage is chiefly used,
think little and know less about the
services which birds perform for agri-
culture, and indeed it may be doubted
whether the sight of a bunch of feathers
or a stuffed bird's skin suggests to
them any thought of the life that
those feathers once represented. But
when the wearers are reminded that
there was such a life; that it was
cheery and beautiful, and that it was
cut short merely that their apparel
might be adorned, they are quick to
recognize that bird destruction involves
a wrong, and are ready to do their part
toward ending it by refusing to wear
plumage.

The small boy who pursues little
birds from the standpoint of the hunter
in quest of his game, feels only the ardor
of pursuit. His whole mind is con-
centrated on that and the hunter's
selfishness, the desire of possession, fills
his heart. Ignorance and thought-
lessness destroy the birds.

Every one knows in a general way
that birds render most valuable service
to the farmer, but although these
services have long been recognized in
the laws standing on the statute books
of the various states, it is only within
a few years that any systematic
investigations have been undertaken to
determine just what such services are,
to measure them with some approach to
accuracy, to weigh in the case of each
species the good and the evil done, and

so to strike a balance in favor of the
bird or against it. The inquiries
carried on by the Agricultural Depart-
ment on a large scale and those made
by various local experiment stations
and by individual observers have given
results which are very striking and
which can no longer be ignored.

It is a difficult matter for any one to
balance the good things that he reads
and believes about any animal against
the bad things that he actually sees.
The man who witnesses the theft of
his cherries by robin or catbird, or the
killing of a quail by a marsh hawk,
feels that here he has ocular proof of
harm done by the birds, while as to
the insects or the field mice destroyed,
and the crops saved, he has only the
testimony of some unknown and dis-
tant witness. It is only natural that
the observer should trust the evidence
of his senses, and yet his eyes tell him
only a small part of the truth, and that
small part a misleading one.

It is certain that without the ser-
vices of these feathered laborers, whose
work is imseen, though it lasts from
daylight till dark through every day
in the year, agriculture in this country
would come to an immediate stand-
still, and if in the brief season of fruit
each one of these workers levies on
the farmer the tribute of a few berries,
the price is surely a small one to pay
for the great good done. Superficial
persons imagine that the birds are
here only during the summer, but this
is a great mistake. It is true that in
warm weather, when insect life is
most abundant, birds are also most
abundant. They wage an effective
and unceasing war against the adult
insects and their larvae, and check
their active depredations; but in
winter the birds carry on a campaign
which is hardly less important in its
results.

213

THE SCARLET TANAGER.

NE of the most brilliant and
striking of all American
birds is the Scarlet Tanager.
From its black wings re-
sembling pockets, it is fre-
qnently called the " Pocket Bird."
The French call it the " Cardinal."
The female is plain olive-green, and
when seen together the pair present a
curions example of the prodigality
with which mother nature pours out
her favors of beauty in the adornment
of some of her creatures and seems
niggardly in her treatment of others.
Still it is only by contrast that we are
enabled to appreciate the quality of
beauty, which in this case is of the
rarest sort. In the January number
of Birds we presented the RedRumped
Tanager, a Costa Rica bird, which,
however, is inferior in brilliancy to
the Scarlet, whose range extends from
eastern United States, north to south-
ern Canada, west to the great plains,
and south in winter to northern South
America. It inhabits woodlands and
swampy places. The nesting season
begins in the latter part of May, the
nest being built in low thick woods or
on the skirting of tangled thickets ;
very often also, in an orchard, on the
horizontal limb of a low tree or sap-
ling. It is very flat and loosely made
of twigs and fine bark strips and lined
with rootlets and fibres of inner bark.
The eggs are from three to five in
number, and of a greenish blue,
speckled and blotted with brown,
chiefly at the larger end.

The disposition of the Scarlet Tan-
ager is retiring, in which respect he
differs greatly from the Summer Tan-
ager, which frequents open groves,
and often visits towns and cities. A
few may be seen in our parks, and
now and then children have picked up
the bright dead form from the green
grass, and wondered what might be its
name. Compare it with the Redbird,
with which it is often confounded, and
the contrast will be strikine.

His call is a warble, broken by a
pensive call note, sounding like the
syllables cJiip-cliiiri\ and he is regarded
as a superior musician.

" Passing through an orchard, and
seeing one of these young birds that
had but lately left the nest, I carried
it with me for about half a mile to
show it to a friend, and having ]3ro-
cured a cage," says Wilson, " hung it
upon one of the large pine trees in the
Botanic Garden, within a few feet of
the nest of an Orchard Oriole, which
also contained young, hoping that the
charity and kindness of the Orioles
would induce them to supply the crav-
ings of the stranger. But charity with
them as with too many of the human
race, began and ended at home. The
poor orphan was altogether neglected,
and as it refused to be fed by me, I
was about to return it to the place
where I had found it, when, toward
the afternoon, a Scarlet Tanager, no
doubt its own parent, was seen flutter-
ing around the cage, endeavoring to
get in. Finding he could not, he flew
off, and soon returned with food in
his bill, and continued to feed it until
after sunset, taking up his lodgings on
the higher branches of the same tree.
In the morning, as soon as day broke,
he was again seen most actively en-
gaged in the same manner, and, not-
withstanding the insolence of the
Orioles, he continued his benevolent
offices the whole day, roosting at night
as before. On the third or fourth day
he seemed extremely solicitous for the
liberation of his charge, using every
expression of distressful anxiety, and
every call and invitation that nature
had put in his power, for him to come
out. This was too much for the feelings
of my friend. He procured a ladder,
and mounting to the spot where the
bird was suspended, opened the cage,
took out his prisoner, and restored him
to liberty and to his parent, who, with
notes of great exultation, accompanied
his flieht to the woods.'*

214

THE SCARLET TANAGER.

AYhat could be more beautiful
to see than this bird among the
green leaves of a tree ? It almost
seems as though he would kindle
the dry limb upon which he
perches. This is his holiday
dress. He wears it during the
nesting season. After the young
are reared and the summer
months gone, he changes his
coat. We then find him dressed
in a dull yellowish green — the
color of his mate the whole year.

Do you remember another bird
family in which the father bird
changes his dress each spring
and autumn?

The Scarlet Tanager is a soli-
tary bird. He likes the deep
woods, and seeks the topmost
branches. He likes, too, the
thick evergreens. Here he sings
through the summer days. We
often pass him by for he is hid-
den by the green leaves above us.

He is sometimes called our
'' Bird of Paradise."

Tanagers feed upon winged
insects, caterpillars, seeds, and
berries. To get these they do
not need to be on the ground.
For this reason it is seldom we
see them there.

Both birds work in building
the nest, and both share in car-
ing for the little ones. The
nest is not a very pretty one —
not pretty enough for so beauti-
ful a bird, I think. It is woven
so loosely that if you were stand-
ing under it, you could see light
through it.

Notice his strong, short beak.
Now turn to the picture of the
Kose-Breasted Grosbeaks in
April Birds. Do you see how
much alike they are? They are
near relatives.

I hope that you may all have
a chance to see a Scarlet Tana-
ger dressed in his richest scar-
let and most jetty black.

217

THE RUFFED GROUSE.

(^ HE Ruffed Grouse, which is
called Partridge in New Eng-
land and Pheasant in the
""— ■— ]\Iiddle and Southern States,
is the true Grouse, while Bob White
is the real Partridge, It is unfortu-
nate that they continue to be con-
founded. The fine picture of his
grouseship, however, which we here
present should go far to make clear
the difference between them.

The range of the Ruffed Grouse is
eastern United States, south to North
Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, and
Arkansas. They hatch in April, the
young immediately leaving the nest
with the mother. When they hear
the mother's warning note the little
ones dive under leaves and bushes,
while she leads the pursuer off in an
opposite direction. Building the nest
and sitting upon the eggs constitute
the duties of the female, the males
during this interesting season keeping
separate, not rejoining their mates
until the young are hatched, when
they begin to roam as a family.

Like the Turkey, the Ruffed Grouse
has a habit of pluming and strutting,
and also makes the drumming noise
which has caused so much discussion.
This noise " is a hollow vibrating
sound, beginning softly and increasing
as if a small rubber ball were dropped
slowly and then rapidly bounced on a
drum." While drumming the bird
contrives to make himself invisible,
and if seen it is difficult to get the
slightest clue to the manner in which
the sound is produced. And observers
say that it beats with its wings on a
log, that it raises its wings and strikes

their edges above its back, that it claps
them against its sides like a crowing
rooster, and that it beats the air. The
writer has seen a grouse drum, appear-
ing to strike its wings together over
its back. But there is much difference
of opinion oil the subject, and young
observers may settle the question for
themselves. When preparing to drum
he seems fidgety and nervous and his
sides are inflated. Letting his wings
droop, he flaps them so fast that they
make one continuous humming sound.
In this peculiar way he calls his mate,
and while he is still drumming, the
hen bird may appear, coming slyly
from the leaves.

The nest is on the ground, made by
the female of dry leaves and a few
feathers plucked from her own breast.
In this slight structure she lays ten or
twelve cream-colored eggs, specked
with browm.

The eyes of the Grouse are of great
depth and softness, with deep expand-
ing pupils and golden browm iris.

Coming suddenly upon a young
brood squatted wnth their mother near
a roadside in the woods, an observer
first knew of their presence by the old
bird flying .directly in his face, and
then tumbling about at his feet with
frantic signs of distress and lameness.
In the meantime the little ones scat-
tered in every direction and were not
to be found. As soon as the parent
was satisfied of their safety, she flew a
short distance and he soon heard her
clucking call to them to come to her
again. It was surprising how quickly
they reached her side, seeming to pop
up as from holes in the ground.

218

From col. F. M Woodruff.

RUFFED GROUSP:

THE RUFFED GROUSE.

At first sight most of you will
think this is a turkey. Well, it
does look very much like one.
He spreads his tail feathers,
puffs himself up, and struts about
like a turkey. You know by
this time what his name is and I
think you can easily see why he
is called Ruffed.

This proud bird and his mate
live wdth us during the whole
year. They are found usually in
grassy lands and in woods.

Here they build their rude
nest of dried grass, weeds and
the like. You will generally
find it at the foot of a tree, or
along side of an old stump in or
near swampy lands.

The Ruffed Grouse has a
queer w^ay of calling his mate.
He stands on a log or stump,
puffed up like a turkey — just as
you see him in the picture. Then
he struts about for a time just

as you have seen a turkey gob-
bler do. Soon he begins to work
his wings — slowly at first, but
faster and faster, until it sounds
like the beating of a drum.

His mate usually answers his
call by coming. They set up
housekeeping and build their
rude nest which holds from eight
to fourteen eggs. As soon as
the young are hatched they can
run about and find their own
food. So you see they are not
much bother to their parents.
^\Tien they are a week old they
can fly. The young usually stay
with their parents until next
Spring. Then they start out and
find mates for themselves.

I said at the first that the
Ruff'ed Grouse stay with us all
the year. In the winter, wheu
it is very cold, they burrow into
a snowdrift to pass the night.
During the summer they always
roost all night.

THE BLACK AND WHITE CREEPING WARBLER.

(5 HIS sprightly little bird is met
with ill various sections of the
country. It occurs in all parts
of New England and New
York, and has been found in the inter-
ior as far north as Fort Simpson. It
is common in the Bahamas and most
of the West India Islands, generally as
a migrant ; in Texas, in the Indian
Territory, in Mexico, and throughout
eastern America.

Dr. Cones states that this warbler is
a very common summer resident near
Washington, the greater number going
farther north to breed. They arrive
there during the first week in April
and are exceedingly numerous until
May.

In its habits this bird seems to be
more of a creeper than a Warbler. It
is an expert and nimble climber, and
rarely, if ever, perches on the branch
of a tree or shrub. In the manner of
the smaller Woodpecker, the Creepers,
Nuthatches, and Titmice, it moves
rapidly around the trunks and larger
limbs of the trees of the forest in search
of small insects and their larvae. It
is graceful and rapid in movement,
and is often so intent upon its hunt as
to be unmindful of the near presence
of man.

It is found chiefly in thickets, where
its food is most easily obtained, and
has been known to breed in the im-
mediate vicinity of a dwelling.

The song of this Warbler is sweet
and pleasing. It begins to sing from
its first appearance in May and con-
tinues to repeat its brief refrain at

intervals almost until its departure in
August and September. At first it is
a monotonous ditty, says Nuttall,
uttered in a strong but shrill and filing
tone. These notes, as the season ad-
vances, become more mellow and
warbling.

The Warbler's movements in search
of food are very interesting to the
observ^er. Keeping the feet together
they move in a succession of short,
rapid hops up the trunks of trees and
along the limbs, passing again to the
bottom by longer flights than in the
ascent. They make but short flight
from tree to tree, but are capable of
flying far when they choose.

They build on the ground. One
nest containing young about a week
old was found on the surface of shelv-
ing rock. It was made of coarse strips
of bark, soft decayed leaves, and dry
grasses, and lined with a thin la}-er of
black hair. The parents fed their
young in the presence of the observer
with affectionate attention, and showed
no uneasiness, creeping head down-
ward about the trunks of the neigh-
boring trees, and carrying large smooth
caterpillars to their young.

They search the crevices in the
bark of the tree trunks and branches,
look among the undergrowth, and
hunting along the fences for bunches of
eggs, the buried larvae of the insects,
which when undisturbed, hatch out
millions of creeping, crawling, and
flying things that devastate garden
and orchard and every crop of the field.

Hrom col. Clii. Acad. Sciences. BLACK AND WHITE CREEPING WARBLER.

CHICAGO COLORTYPE C(

BIRDS.

iLuusTRflTBD BY COLOR PHOTOGRfVPH Y.

Vol. II.

JULY, 1897.

No. I.

BIRD SONG.

C^Tt should not be overlooked
by the young observer that if
he would learn to recognize at
gJ I once any particular bird, he
should make himself acquainted
with the song and call notes of every
bird around him. The identification,
however, of the many feathered creatures
with which we meet in our rambles
has heretofore required so much
patience, that, though a delight to the
enthusiast, few have time to acquire
any great intimacy with them. To
get this acquaintance with the birds,
the observer has need to be prepared
to explore perilous places, to climb
lofty trees, and to meet with frequent
mishaps. To be sure if every veritable
secret of their habits is to be pried into,
this pursuit will continue to be plied
as patiently as it has ever been. The
opportunity, however, to secure a sat-
isfactory knowledge of bird song and
bird life by a most delightful method
has at last come to every one,

A gentleman who has taken a great
interest in Birds from the appearance
of the first number, but whose acquaint-
ance with living birds is quite limited,
visited one of our parks a few days
ago, taking with him the latest num-
ber of the magazine. His object, he
said, was to find there as many
of the living forms of the speci-

mens represented as he could. "Seat-
ing myself amidst a small grove
of trees, what was my delight at see-
ing a Red Wing alight on a telegraph
wire stretching across the park. Ex-
amining the picture in Birds I was
somewhat disappointed to find that the
live specimen was not so brilliantly
marked as in the picture. Presently,
however, another Blackbird alighted
near, who seemed to be the veritable
presentment of the photograph. Then
it occured to me that I had seen the
Red Wing before, without knowing its
name. It kept repeating a rich, juicy
note, oncher-la-ree-e! its tail tetering at
quick intervals. A few days later I
observed a large number of Red Wings
near the Hyde Park water works, in
the vicinity of which, among the trees
and in the marshes, I also . saw many
other birds unknown to me. With
Birds in my hands, I identified the
Robin, who ran along the ground
quite close to me, anon summoning
with his beak the incautious angle
worm to the surface. The Jays were
noisy and numerous, and I observed
many new traits in the Wood Thrush,
so like the Robin that I was at first in
some doubt about it. I heard very
few birds sing that day, most of them
being busy in search of food for their
young."

[continued on page 17.]

xb^

THE BALD-HEADED EAGLE.

Dear Boys and Girls :

I had hoped to show you
the picture of the eagle that
went through the Avar with the
soldiers. They called him '' Old
Abe." You will find on page
35 a long story written about
him. Ask some one to read it
to you.

I could net get '' Old Abe," or
you should now be looking at
his picture. He is at present in
Wisconsin, and his owner would
not allow him to be taken from
home.

1 did the next best thing, and
found one that was very much
like him. They are as near
alike as two children of a
family. Old Abe's feathers are
not quite so smooth, though. Do
you wonder, after having been
through the war? He is a
veteran, isn't he ?

The picture is that of a Bald-
headed Eagle. He is known,
also, by other names, such as
White-headed Eagle, Bird of
AVashington, Sea Eagle.

You can easily see by the
picture that he is not bald-
headed. The name AVhite-
headed would seem a better

name. Tt is l)ecause at a dis-
tance his head and neck appear
as though they were covered
with a white skin.

He is called "Sea Eagle"
because his food is mostly fish.
He takes the fish that are thrown
upon tlie shores by the waves,
and sometimes he robs the Fish
Hawk of his food.

This mighty bird usually
places his large nest in some
tall tree. He uses sticks three
to five feet long, large pieces of
sod, weeds, moss, and whatever
he can find.

The nest is sometimes five or
six feet through. Eagles use the
same nest for years, adding to
it each year.

Young eagles are queer look-
ing birds. When hatched, they
are covered with a soft down
that looks like cotton.

Their parents feed them, and
do not allow them to leave the
nest until they are old enough
to fly. When they are old
enough, the mother bird pushes
them out of the nest. She must
be sure that they can fly, or she
would not dare do this. Don't
you think so ?

',^^

om col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

AMERICAN BALD EAGLE.
M Life size.

THE BALD HEADED EAGLE.

(5 HIS mighty bird of lofty flight
is a native of the whole of
North America, and may be
seen haunting the greater
portions of the sea coasts, as well
as the mouths of large rivers. He is
sometimes called the Whiteheaded
Kagle, the American Sea Eagle, the
Bird of Washington, the Washington
Eagle, and the Sea Eagle. On account
of thesnowy white of his head and neck,
the name Bald Eagle has been applied
to him more generally than any other.

Sea-faring men are partial to young
Eagles as pets, there being a well
established superstition among them
that the ship that carries the " King
of Birds " can never go down. The
old Romans, in selecting the Eagle as
an emblem for their imperial standard,
showed this superstitious belief, regard-
ing him as the favorite messenger of
Jupiter, holding communion with
heaven. The Orientals, too, believed
that the feathers of the Eagle's tail
rendered their arrows invincible. The
Indian mountain tribes east of Ten-
nessee venerated the Eagle as their
bird of war, and placed a high value
on his feathers, which they used for
headdresses and to decorate their pipes
of peace.

The United States seems to have an
abiding faith in the great bird, as our
minted dollars show.

The nest of the Bald Eagle is usually
placed upon the top of a giant tree,
standing far up on the side of a moun-
tain, among myriads of twining vines,
or on the summit of a high inaccessi-
ble rock. The nest in the course of
years, becomes of great size as the
Eagle lays her eggs year after year in
the same nest, and at each nesting
season adds new material to the old

nest. It is strongly and comfortably
built with large sticks and branches,
nearly flat, and bound together with
twining vines. The spacious interior
is lined with hair and moss, so minutely
woven together as to exclude the wind.
The female lays two eggs of a brown-
ish red color, with many dots and
spots, the long end of the egg tapering
to a point. The parents are affection-
ate, attend to their young as long as
they are helpless and' unfledged, and
will not forsake them even though the
tree on which they rest be enveloped
in flames. When the Eaglets are
ready to fly, however, the parents push
them from the perch and trust them to
the high atmospheric currents. They
turn them out, so to speak, to shift for
themselves.

The Bald Eagle has an accommo-
dating appetite, eating almost anything
that has ever had life. He is fond of
fish, without being a great fisher, pre-
ferring to rob the Fish-hawk of the
fruits of his skillful labor. Sitting
upon the side of a mountain his keen
vision surveys the plain or valley, and
detects a sheep, a young goat, a fat
turkey or rooster, a pig, a rabbit or a
large bird, and almost within an eye-
twinkle he descends upon his victim.
A mighty grasp, a twist of his talons,
and the quarry is dead long before the
Eagle lays it down for a repast. The
impetuosity and skill with which he
pursues, overtakes and robs the Fish-
hawk, and the swiftness with which
the Bald Eagle darts down upon and
seizes the booty, which the Hawk has
been compelled to let go, is not the
least wonderful part of this striking
performance.

The longevity of the Eagle is very
great, from 80 to 160 years.

THE SEMIPALMATED RING PLOVER.

^5ffN THEIR habits the Plovers are
usually active ; they run and
fly with equal facility, and
gJ M though they rarely attempt to
swim, are not altogether unsuc-
cessful in that particular.

The Semipalmated Ring Plover
utters a plaintive whistle, and during
the nesting season can produce a few
connected pleasing notes. The three
or four pear-shaped, variagated eggs
are deposited in a slight hollow in the
ground, in which a few blades of grass
are occasionally placed. Both parents
assist in rearing the young. Worms,
small quadrupeds, and insects consti-
tute their food. Their flesh is regarded
as a delicacy, and they are therefore ob-
jects of great attraction to the sports-
man, although they often render them-
selves extremely troublesome by utter-
ingtheirshrillcryandthuswarningtheir
feathered companions of the approach
of danger. From this habit they have
received the name of "tell-tales." Dr.
Livingstone said of the African species:
"A most plaguey sort of public spirited
individual follows you everywhere,
flying overhead, and is most persever-

ing in his attempts to give fair warn-
ing to all animals within hearing to
flee from the approach of danger."

The American Ring Plover nests as
far north as Labrador, and is common
on our shores from August to October,
after which it migrates southward.
Some are stationary in the southern
states. It is often called the Ring-
Plover, and has been supposed to be
identical with the European Ringed
Plover.

It is one of the commonest of shore
birds. It is found along the beaches
and easily identified by the complete
neck ring, white upon dark and dark
upon light. Like the Sandpipers the
Plovers dance along the shore in
rhythm with the wavelets, leaving
sharp half-webbed footprints on the
wet sand. Though usually found along
the seashore, Samuels says that on
their arrival in spring, small flocks
follow the courses of large rivers, like
the Connecticut. He also found a
single pair building on Muskeget, the
famous haunt of Gulls, off the shore of
Massachusetts. It has been found near
Chicago, Illinois, in July.

THE RING PLOVER.

Plovers belong to a class of
birds called AYaders.

They spend the winters
down south, and early in the
spring begin their journey north.
By the beginning of summer
they are in the cold north, where
they lay their eggs and hatch
their young. Here they remain
until about the month of August,
when they begin to journey
southward. It is on their way
back that we see most of them.

While on their way north, they
are in a hurry to reach their
nesting places, so only stop here
and there for food and rest.

Coming back with their fam-
ilies, we often see them in
ploughed fields. Here they find
insects and seeds to eat.

The King Plover is so called
from the white ring around its
neck.

These birds are not particular
about their nests. They do not
build comfortable nests as most
birds do. They find a place that
is sheltered from the north
winds, and where the sun will
reach them. Here they make a
rude nest of the mosses lying
around.

The eggs are somewhat
pointed, and placed in the nest
with the points toward the cen-
ter. In this way the bird can
more easily cover the eggs.

We find, among most birds,
that after the nest is made, the
mother bird thinks it her duty
to hatch the young.

The father bird usually feeds
her while she sits on the eggs.
In some of the bird stories, you
have read how the father and
mother birds take turns in build-
ing the nest, sitting on the nest,
and feeding the young.

Some father birds do all the
work in building the nest,
and take care of the birds when
hatched.

Among plovers, the father
bird usually hatches the young,
and lets the wife do as she
pleases.

After the young are hatched
they help each other take care of
them.

Plovers have long wings, and
can fly very swiftly.

The distance between their
summer and winter homes is-
sometimes very great.

THE MALLARD DUCK.

AVe should probably think this
the most beautiful uf ducks, were
the AVood Duck not around.

His rich glossy-green head
and neck, snowy white collar,
and curly feathers of the tail
are surely marks of beauty.

But Mr. Mallard is not so
richly dressed all of the year.
Like a great many other birds,
he changes his clothes after the
holiday season is over. AVhen
he does this, you can hardly tell
him from his mate who wears a
sober dress all the year.

Most birds that change their
plumage wear their bright,
beautiful dress during the sum-
mer. Not so with Mr. Mallard.
He wears his holiday clothes
during the winter. In the sum-
mer he looks much like his mate.

Usually the Mallard family

have six to ten eggs in their nest.
They are of a pale greenish
coloi- — very much like the eggs
of our tame ducks that we see
about the barnyards.

Those w^io have studied birds
say that our tame ducks are
descendants of the Mallards.

If you were to hear the Mal-
lard's quack^ you could not tell it
from that of the domestic duck.

The Mallard usually makes
her nest of grass, and lines it
with down from her breast.
You will almost always find
it on the ground, near the water,
and well sheltered by weeds and
tall grasses.

It isn't often you see a duck
with so small a family. It must
be that some of the ducklings
are away picking up food.

Do you think they look like
young chickens?

.a ^

THE MALLARD DUCK.

(5 HE Mallard Duck is generally
distributed in North America,
migrating south in winter to
'■"*" Panama, Cuba, and the Ba-
hamas. In summer the full grown
male resembles the female, being
merely somewhat darker in color. The
plumage is donned by degrees in early
June, and in August the full rich
winter dress is again resumed. The
adult males in winter plumage vary
chiefly in the extent and richness of
the chestnut of the breast.

The Mallard is probably the best
known of all our wild ducks, being
very plentiful and remarkable on
account of its size. Chiefly migrant,
a few sometimes remain in the south-
ern portion of Illinois, and a few pairs
sometimes breed in the more secluded
localities where they are free from dis-
turbance. Its favorite resorts are mar-
gins of ponds and streams, pools and
ditches. It is an easy walker, and can
run with a good deal of speed, or dive
if forced to do so, though it never
dives for food It feeds on seeds of
grasses, fibrous roots of plants, worms,
shell fish, and insects. In feeding in
shallow water the bird keeps the hind
part of its body erect, while it searches
the muddy bottom with its bill.
When alarmed and made to fly, it
utters a loud quack, the cry of the
female being the louder. " It feeds
silently, but after hunger is satisfied,
it amuses itself with various jabberings,
swims about, moves its head backward
and forward, throws water over its
back, shoots along the surface, half
flying, half running, and seems quite
playful. If alarmed, the Mallard springs

up at once with a bound, rises obliquely
to a considerable height, and flies off
with great speed, the wings producing
a whistling sound. The flight is made
by repeated flaps, without sailing, and
when in full flight its speed is
hardly less than a hundred miles an
hour."

Early in spring the male and female
seek a nesting place, building on the
ground, in marshes or among water
plants, sometimes on higher ground,
but never far from water. The nest
is large and rudely made of sedges and
coarse grasses, seldom lined with down
or feathers. In rare instances it nests
in trees, using the deserted nests of
hawks, crows, or other large birds.
Six or eight eggs of pale dull green
are hatched, and the young are covered
over with down. When the female
leaves the nest she conceals the eggs
with hay, down, or any convenient
material. As soon as hatched the
chicks follow the mother to the water,
where she attends them devotedly, aids
them in procuring food, and warns
them of danger. While they are at-
tempting to escape, she feigns lame-
ness to attract to herself the attention
of the enemy. The chicks are won-
derfully active little fellows, dive
quickly, and remain under water with
only the bill above the surface.

On a lovely morning, before the sun
has fairly indicated his returning pres-
ence, there can be no finer sight than
the hurrying pinions, or inspiring
note than the squawk, oft repeated, of
these handsome feathered creatures, as
they seek their morning meal in the
lagoons and marshes.

THE AMERICAN AVOCET.

KITE SNIPE, Yelper,
Lawyer, and Scooper are
some of the popular
names applied in various
localities to this remarkably long-
legged and long and slender-necked
creature, which is to be found in tem-
perate North America, and, in winter,
as far south as Cuba and Jamaica. In
north-eastern Illinois the Avocet o^en-
erally occurs in small parties the last
of April and the first of May, and dur-
ing September and the early part of
October, when it frequents the borders

of marshy pools. The bird combines
the characteristics of the Curlew and
the Godwit, the bill being re-curved.
The cinnamon color on the head
and neck of this bird varies with the
individual; sometimes it is dusky gray
around the eye, especially in the
younger birds.

The Avocet is interesting and at-
tractive in appearance, without having
any especially notable characteristics.
He comes and goes and is rarely seen
by others than sportsmen.

■r'y0^_^_^

from col. h. M. Woodruff.

AMERICAN AA^JL'KT.
V;> Life size.

BIRD SO MG— Continued from page i.

Many of our singing birds may be
easily identified by any one who carries
in his mind the images which are pre-
sented in our remarkable pictures.
See the birds at home, as it were, and
hear their songs.

Those who fancy that few native
birds live in our parks will be sur-
prised to read the following list of
them now visible to the eyes of so
careful an observer as Mr. J. Chester
Lyman.

"About the 20th of May I walked
one afternoon in Lincoln Park with a
friend whose early study had made
him familiar with birds generally, and
we noted the following varieties :

1 Magnolia Warbler.

2 Yellow Warbler.

3 Black Poll Warbler.

4 Black-Throated Blue Warbler.

5 Black-Throated Queen Warbler.

6 Blackburnian Warbler.

7 Chestnut-sided Warbler.

8 Golden-crowned Thrush.

9 Wilson's Thrush.

10 Song Thrush.

11 Catbird.

12 Bluebird.

13 Kingbird.

14 Least Fly Catcher.

15 Wood Pewee Fly Catcher.

17
iS

19
:o

23
24
25
26
27
28

29
30
31
32
33
34
35

Great Crested Fly Catcher.

Red-eyed Virto.

Chimney Swallow.

Barn Swallow.

Purple Martin.

Red Start.

House Wren.

Purple Grackle.

White-throated Sparrow.

Song Sparrow.

Robin.

Blue Jay.

Red Headed Woodpecker.

Kingfisher.

Night Hawk.

Yellow-Billed Cuckoo.

Scarlet Tanager, Male and Female.

Black and White Creeper.

Gull, or Wilson's Tern.

The Omni-present English Sparrow.

" On a similar walk, one week ear-
lier, we saw about the same number of
varieties, including, however, the Yel-
low Breasted Chat, and the Mourning,
Bay Breasted, and Blue Yellow Backed
Warblers."

The sweetest songsters are easily
accessible, and all may enjoy their
presence.

C. C. Marblk.

[TO BK CONTINUED.!

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK-

names

HITE-BACK, Canard Che-
val, (New Orleans,) Bull-
Neck, and Red Headed
Bull-Neck, are common
the famous Canvas-Back,
which nests from the northern states,
northward to Alaska. Its range is
throughout nearly all of North Amer-
ica, wintering from the Chesapeake
southward to Guatemala.

"The biography of this duck," says
Mabel Osgood Wright, " belongs rather
to the cook-book than to a bird list,"
even its most learned biographers
referring mainly to its "eatable quali-
ties," Dr. Coues even taking away its
character in that respect when he says
" there is little reason for squealing in
barbaric joy over this over-rated and
generally under-done bird ; not one
person in ten thousand can tell it from
any other duck on the table, and only
then under the celery circumstances,"
referring to the particular flavor of its
flesh, when at certain seasons it feeds
on vallisneria, or "water celery,"
which won its fame. This is really
not celery at all, but an eel-grass, not
always found through the range of the
Canvas-Back. When this is scarce it
eats frogs, lizards, tadpoles, fish, etc.,
so that, says Mrs. Osgood, " a certifi-
cate of residence should be sold with
every pair, to insure the inspiring
flavor."

The opinion held as to the edible
qualities of this species varies greatly
in different parts of the country. No
where has it so high a reputation as in
the vicinity of Chesapeake Bay, where
the alleged superiority of its flesh is
ascribed to the abundance of "water
celery." That this notion is erroneous
is evident from the fact that the same
plant grows in far more abundance in
the upper Mississippi Valley, where
also the Canvas-Back feeds on it.
Hence it is highly probable that fash-
ion and imagination, or perhaps a
superior style of cooking and serving,
play a very important part in the case.
In California, however, where the
" water celery " does not grow, the
Canvas-Back is considered a very in-
ferior bird for the table.

It has been hunted on Chesapeake
Bay and its tributaries with such in-
considerate greed that its numbers have
been greatly reduced, and many have
been driven to more southern waters.

In and about Baltimore, the Canvas-
Back, like the famous terrapin, is in
as high favor for his culinary excel-
lence, as are the women for beauty and
hospitality. To gratify the healthy
appetite of the human animal this bird
wasdoubtlesssentby a kind Providence,
none the less mindful of the creature
comforts and necessities of mankind
than of the purely aesthetic senses.

THE WOOD DUCK.

A great many people think
that this is the most beautiful
bird of North America. It is
called Wood Du6k because it
usually makes its nest in the
hollow of a tree that overhangs
the water. If it can find a
squirrel's or woodpecker's hole
in some stump or tree, there it
is sure to nest.

A gentleman who delighted in
watching the Wood Duck, tells
about one that built her nest in
the hollow of a tree that hung
over the water. He was anxious
to see how the little ones, when
hatched, would get down.

In a few days he knew that
the ducklings were out, for he
could hear their pee, pee, pee.
They came to the edge of the
nest, one by one, and tumbled
out into the water.

You know a duck can swim
as soon as it comes out of the

Sometimes the nest is in the
hollow of a tree that is a short
distance from the water.

Now how do you suppose the
•ducklings get there as they do ?

If the nest is not far from the
ground, the mother bird lets
them drop from it on the
dried grass and leaves undei*
the tree. She then carries them
in her bill, one by one, to the
water and back to the nest.

If the nest should be far from
the ground, she carries them
down one by one.

This same gentleman says
that he once saw a Wood Duck
carry down thirteen little ones
in less than ten minutes. She
took them in her bill by the
back of the neck or the wing.

When they are a few days old
she needs only to lead the way
and the little ones will follow.

The Wood Duck is also called
Summer Duck. This is because
it does not stay with us during
the winter, as most ducks do.

It goes south to spend the
winter and comes back north
early in the spring:

THE WOOD DUCK.

UITE the most beautiful of
the native Ducks, with a
a richness of plumage which
ofives it a bridal or
festive appearance, this
bird is specifically named Spousa^which
means betrothed. It is also called
Summer Duck, Bridal Duck, Wood
Widgeon, Acorn Duck and Tree Duck.

It is a fresh water foul, and exclu-
sively so in the selection of its nesting
haunts. It inhabits the whole of tem-
perate North America, north to the
fur countries, and is found in Cuba
and sometimes in Europe. Its favor-
ite haunts are wooded bottom-lands,
where it frequents the streams and
ponds, nesting in hollows of the largest
trees. Sometimes a hole in a hori-
zontal limb is chosen that seems too
small to hold the Duck's plump body,
and occasionally it makes use of the
hole of an Owl or Woodpecker, the
entrance to which has been enlarged
by decay.

Wilson visited a tree containing a
nest of a Wood or Summer Duck, on
the banks of Tuckahoe river, New
Jersey. The tree stood on a declivity
twenty yards from the water, and in
its hollow and broken top, about six
feet down, on the soft decayed wood
were thirteen eggs covered with down
from the mother's breast. The eggs
were of an exact oval shape, the sur-
face smooth and fine grained, of a yel-
lowish color resembling old polished
ivory. This tree had been occupied
by the same pair, during nesting time,
for fotir successive years. The female
had been seen to carry down from the

nest thirteen young, one by one, in
less than ten minutes. She caught
them in her bill by the wing or back
of the neck, landed them safely at the
foot of the tree, and finally led them
to the water. If the nest be directly
over the water, the little birds as soon
as hatched drop into the water, break-
ing their fall by extending their wings.

Many stories are told of their at-
tachment to their nesting places. For
several years one observer saw a pair
of Wood Ducks make their nest in the
hollow of a hickory which stood on
the bank, half a dozen yards from a
river. In preparing to dam the river
near this point, in order to supply
water to a neighboring city, the course
of the river was diverted, leaving the
old bed an eighth of a mile behind,
notwithstanding which the ducks bred
in the old place, the female undaunted
by the distance which she would have
to travel to lead her brood to the water.

While the females are laying, and
afterwards when sitting, the male
usually perches on an adjoining limb
and keeps watch. The common note
of the drake is peet-peet^ and when
standing sentinel, if apprehending
danger, he makes a noise not unlike
the crowing of a young cock, oe-eek.
The drake does not assist in sitting on
the eggs, and the female is left in the
lurch in the same manner as the Part-
ridge.

The Wood Duck has been repeat-
edly tamed and partially domesticated.
It feeds freely on corn meal soaked in
water, and as it grows, catches flies
with great dexterity.

From col. F. C. Baker.

ANHINGA OK 6NAKE BIRD.
I/3 Life size.

THE ANHINGA OR S^AKE BIRD.

(^ HE Snake Bird is very singular
indeed in appearance, and in-
teresting as well in its habits.
Tropical and sub-tropical
x\merica, north to the Carolinas and
Southern Illinois, where it is a regular
summer resident, are its known haunts.
Here it is recognized by different
names, as Water Turkey, Darter, and
Snake Bird. The last mentioned
seems to be the most appropriate name
for it, as the shape of its head and neck
at once suggest the serpent. In Flor-
ida it is called the Grecian Lady, at
the mouth of the Mississipi, Water
Crow, and in Louisiana, Bee a Lan-
cette. It often swims with the body
entirely underwater, its head and long
neck in sight like some species of
water snakes, and has no doubt more
than once left the impression on the
mind of the superstitious sailor that
he has seen a veritable sea serpent, the
fear of which lead him to exaggerate
the size of it.

This bird so strange in looks and
action is common in summer in the
South Atlantic and Gulf States, fre-
quenting the almost impenetrable
swamps, and is a constant resident of
Florida.

As a diver the Snake Bird is the
most wonderful of all the Ducks. Like
the Loon it can disappear instantly
and noislessly, swim a long distance
and reappear almost in an opposite
direction to that in which naturally it
would be supposed to go. And the
ease with which, when alarmed, it will
drop from its perch and leave scarcely
a ripple on the surface of the water,
would appear incredible in so large a
bird, were it not a well known fact.

five eggs,
white, are

It has also the curious habit of sinking
like a Grebe.

The nests of the Anhinga are located
in various places, sometimes in low
bushes at a height from the ground of
only a few feet, or in the upper
branches of high trees, but always over
water. Though web footed, it is
strong enough to grasp tightly the
perch on which it nests. This gives
it a great advantage over the common
Duck which can nest only on the
ground. Sometimes Snake Birds breed
in colonies with various species of
Herons. From three to
bluish, or dark greenish
usually found in the nest.

Prof F. C. Baker, secretary of the
Chicago Academy of Sciences, to whom
we are indebted for the specimen pre-
sented here, captured this bird at
Micco, Brevard Co., Florida, in April,
1889. He says he found a peculiar
parasite in the brain ot the Arhinga.

The Arhingas consist of but one
species, which has a representative in
the warmer parts of each of the great
divisions of the earth. The number
seen together varies from eight or ten
to several hundred.

The hair-like feathers on the
neck form a sort of loose mane.

When asleep the bird stands with
its body almost erect. In rainy
weather it often spends the greater
part of the day in an erect attitude,
with its neck and head stretched up-
ward, remaining perfectly motionless,
so that the water may glide off its
plumage. The fluted tail is very thick
and beautiful and serves as a propeller
as well as a rudder in swimming.

THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK.

(^TPSN'T this American Woodcock,
or indeed any member of the
family, a comical bird? His
(ij I head is almost square, and
what a remarkable eye he has !
It is a seeing eye, too, for he does not
require light to enable him to detect
the food he seeks in the bogs. He
has many names to characterize
him, such as Bog-sucker, Mud Snipe,
Blind Snipe. His greatest enemies
are the pot hunters, who nevertheless
have nothing but praise to bestow
upon him, his flesh is so exquisitely
palatable. Even those who deplore
and deprecate the destruction of birds
are not unappreciative of his good
qualities in this respect.

The Woodcock inhabits eastern
North America, the north British
provinces, the Dakotas, Nebraska and
Kansas, and breeds throughout the
range.

Ni^rht is the time when the Wood-
cock enjoys life. He never flies vol-
untarily by day, but remains secluded
in close and sheltered thickets till twi-
light, when he seeks his favorite feed-
ing places. His sight is imper-
fect by day, but at night he readily
secures his food, assisted doubtless by
an extraordinary sense of smell. His
remarkably large and handsome eye is
too sensative for the glare of the sun,
and during the greater part of the day
he remains closely concealed in marshy
thickets or in rank grass. In the
morning and evening twilight and on
moonlight nights, he seeks his food in
open places. The early riser may find
him with ease, but the first glow from
the rays of the morning sun will cause
his disappearance from the landscape.
He must be looked for in swamps.

and in meadows with soft bottoms.
During very wet seasons he seeks
higher land — usually cornfields — and
searches for food in the mellow
plowed ground, where his presence is
indicated by holes made by his bill.
In seasons of excessive drought the
Woodcock resorts in large numbers to
tide water creeks and the banks of
fresh water rivers. So averse is he to
an excess of water, that after continued
or very heavy rains he has been known
suddenly to disappear from widely
extended tracts of country.

A curious habit of the Woodcock,
and one that is comparatively little
known, is that of carrying its young
in order to remove them from danger.
So many trustworthy naturalists main-
tain this to be true that it must be
accepted as characteristic of this inter-
esting bird. She takes her young from
place to place in her toe grasps as
scarcity of food or safety may require.

As in the case of many birds whose
colors adapt them to certain localities
or conditions of existence, the patterns
of the beautiful chestnut parts of the
Woodcock mimic well the dead leaves
and serve to protect the female and
her young. The whistle made by
their wings when flying is a manifest-
ation of one of the intelligences of
nature.

The male Woodcock, it is believed,
when he gets his " intended " off" en-
tirely to himself, exhibits in peculiar
dances and jigs that he is hers and
hers only, or rises high on the wing
cutting the most peculiar capers and
gyrations in the air, protesting to her
in the grass beneath the most earnest
devotion, or advertising to her his
whereabouts.

THE WOODCOCK.

Here is a bird that is not
often seen in the daytime.
During the day he stays in
the deep woods or among the
tall marsh grasses.

It is at twilight that you may
see him. He then comes out in
search of food.

Isn't he an odd-looking bird?
His bill is made long so that he
can bore into the soft ground
for earthworms.

You notice his color is much
like the Ruffed Grouse in June
" BIRDS." This seems to be the
color of a great many birds
whose home is among the
grasses and dried leaves. Maybe
you can see a reason for this.

Those who have watched the
woodcock carefully, say that he
can move the tip end of the

upper part of his bill. This
acts like a finger in helping him
to draw his food from the
ground.

AVhat a sight it must be to see
a number of these queer looking
birds at work getting their food.
If they happen to be in a swampy
place, they often find earth-
worms by simply turning over
the dead leaves.

If there should be, near by, a
field that has been newly
plowed, they will gather in
numbers, at twilight, and search
for worms.

The AYoodcock has short
wings for his size. He seems
to be able to fly very fast. You
can imagine how he looks while
flying — his long bill out in front
and his legs hanging down.

THE AMERICAN SCOTER.

(^ HE specimen we give of the
American Scoter is one of
unusnal rarity and beauty of
plumage. It was seen off the
government pier, in Chicago, in No-
vember, 1895, and has been much
admired.

The Scoter has as many names as
characteristics, being called the Sea
Coot, the Butter-billed, and the Hollow-
billed Coot. The plumage of the full
grown male is entirely black, while
the female is a sooty brown, becoming
paler below. She is also somewhat
smaller.

This Duck is sometimes found in
great numbers along the entire Atlan-
tic coast where it feeds on small shell
fish which it secures by diving. A
few nest in Labrador, and in winter it
is found in New Jersey, on the Great
Lakes, and in California. The neigh-

borhoods of marshes and ponds are its
haunts, and in the Hudson Bay region
the Scoter nests in June and July.

The nest is built on the ground near
water. Coarse grass, feathers, and
down are commonly used to make it
comfortable, while it is well secreted
in hollows in steep banks and cliffs.
The eggs are from six to ten, of a dull
buff color.

Prof. Cooke states that on May 2,
1883, fifty of these ducks were seen at
Anna, Union county, Illinois, all
busily engaged in picking up millet
seed that had just been sown. If no
mistake of identification was made in
this case, the observ^ation apparently
reveals a new fact in the habits of the
species, which has been supposed to
feed exclusively in the water, and to
subsist generally on fishes and other
aquatic animal food.

OLD ABE.

"I'd rather capture Old Abe, " said Gen. Sterling Price, of the Confederate Army, " than a
whole brigade."

LD ABE" was the live
war Eagle which accom-
panied the Eighth Wis-
consin regiment during
the War of the Rebellion, Much of a
more or less problematical character
has been written about him, but what
we regard as authentic we shall pre-
sent in this article. Old Abe was a
fine specimen of the Bald Eagle, very
like the one figured in this number of
Birds. Various stories are told of his
capture, but the most trustworthy ac-
count is that Chief Sky, a Chippewa
Indian, took him from the nest while
an Eaglet. The nest was found on a
pine tree in the Chippewa country, about
three miles from the mouth of the
Flambeau, near some rapids in the
river. He and another Indian cut the
tree down, and, amid the menaces of
the parent birds, secured two young
Eagles about the size of Prairie Hens.
One of them died. The other, which
lived to become historical, was sold to
Daniel McCann for a bushel of corn.
McCann carried it to Eau Claire, and
presented it to a company then being
organized as a part of the Eighth
Wisconsin Infantry.

What more appropriate emblem than
the x\merican Bald Headed Bird could
have been thus selected by the patriots
who composed this regiment of free-
men ! The Golden Eagle (of which
we shall hereafter present a splendid
specimen,) with extended wings, was
the ensign of the Persian monarchs,
long before it was adopted by the
Romans. And the Persians borrowed
the symbol from the Assyrians. In
fact, the symbolical use of the Eagle
is of very remote antiquity. It was
the insignia of Egypt, of the Etruscans,
was the sacred bird of the Hindoos,

and of the Greeks, who connected him
with Zeus, their supreme deity. With
the Scandinavians the Eagle is the
bird of wisdom. The double-headed
Eagle was in use among the Byzantine
emperors, "to indicate their claims to
the empire of both the east and the
west." It was adopted in the 14th
century by the German emperors.
The arms of Prussia were disting-
uished by the Black Eagle, and
those of Poland by the White. The
great Napoleon adopted it as the em-
blem of Imperial France.

Old Abe was called by the soldiers
the " new recruit from Chippewa,"
and sworn into the service of the
United States by encircling his neck
with red, white, and blue ribbons, and
by placing on his breast a rosette of
colors, after which he was carried by
the regiment into every engagement
in which it participated, perched upon
a shield in the shape of a heart. A
few inches above the shield was a
grooved crosspiece for the Eagle to
rest upon, on either end of which were
three arrows. When in line Old Abe
was always carried on the left of the
color bearer, in the van of the regi-
ment. The color bearer wore a belt
to which was attached a socket for the
end of the staff, which was about five
feet in length. Thus the Eagle was
high above the bearer's head, in plain
sight of the column. A ring of leather
was fastened to one of the Eagle's legs
to which was connected a strong hemp
cord about twenty feet long.

Old Abe was the hero of about
twenty-five battles, and as many
skirmishes. Remarkable as it may
appear, not one bearer of the flag, or
of the Eagle, always shining marks for
the enemy's rifles, was ever shot down.

Once or twice Old Abe suffered the
loss of a few feathers, but he was never
wounded.

The great bird enjoyed the excite-
ment of carnage. In battle he flapped
his wings, his eyes blazed, and with
piercing screams, which arose above
the noise of the conflict, seemed to
urge the company on to deeds of valor.

David Mclvane, who was the first
color bearer to carry him into battle,
said:

"Old Abe, like all old soldiers,
seemed to dread the sound of musketry
but with the roll of artillery he ap-
peared to be in his glory. Then he
screamed, spread his wings at every
discharge, and reveled in the roar and
smoke of the big guns." A corres-
pondent who watched him closely said
that when a battle had fairly begun
Old Abe jumped up and down on his
perch with such wild and fearful
screams as an eagle alone can utter.
The louder the battle, the fiercer and
wilder were his screams.

Old Abe varied his voice in accord
with his emotions. When surprised
he whistled a wild melody of a melan-
choly softness ; when hovering over
his food he gave a spiteful chuckle;
when pleased to see an old friend he
seemed to say: " How do you do ? "
with a plaintive cooing. In battle his

scream was wild and commanding, a
succession of five or six notes with a
startling trill that was inspiring to
the soldiers. Strangers could not ap-
proach or touch him with safety,
though members of the regiment who
treated him with kindness were cor-
dially recognized by him. Old Abe
had his particular friends, as well as
some whom he regarded as his enemies.
There were men in the company whom
he would not permit to approach him.
He would fly at and tear them with
his beak and talons. But he would
never fight his bearer. He knew his
own regiment from every other, would
always accompany its cheer, and never
that of any other regiment.

Old Abe more than once escaped,
but was always lured by food to return.
He never seemed disposed to depart to
the blue empyrean, his ancestral home.

Having served three years, a portion
of the members of Company C were
mustered out, and Old Abe was pre-
sented to the state of Wisconsin. For
many years, on occasions of public
exercise or review, like other illustrious
veterans, he excited in parade universal
and enthusiastic attention.

He occupied pleasant quarters in the
State Capitol at Madison, Wisconsin,
until his death at an advanced age.

THE SNOWY HERON.

" What does it cost this garniture of death?

It costs the life which God alone can give ;
It costs dull silence where was music's breath,

It costs dead joy, that foolish pride may live.
Ah, life, and joy, and song, depend upon it,
Are costly trimmings for a woman's bonnet ! "

(5 EM PER ATE and tropical Am-
erica, from Long Island to
Oregon, south to Buenos Ay-
res, may be considered the
home of the Snowy Heron, though it
is sometimes seen on the Atlantic
coast as far as Nova Scotia. It is sup-
posed to be an occasional summer res-
ident as far north as Long Island, and
it is found along the entire gulf coast
and the shores of both oceans. It is
called the Little White Egret, and is
no doubt the handsomest bird of the
tribe. It is pure white, with a crest
composed of many long hair like
feathers, a like plume on the lower
neck, and the same on the back, which
are recurved when perfect.

Snowy Herons nest in colonies, pre-
ferring willow bushes in the marshes
for this purpose. The nest is made in
the latter part of April or early June.
Along the gulf coast of Florida, they
nest on ihe Mangrove Islands, and in
the interior in the willow ponds and
swamps, in company with the Louisi-
ana and Little Blue Herons. The nest
is simply a platform of sticks, and from
two to five eggs are laid.

Alas, plume hunters have wrought
such destruction to these lovely birds
that very few are now found in the old
nesting places. About 1889, accord-
ing to Mr. F. M. Woodruff, this bird
was almost completely exterminated in
Florida, the plume hunters transfer-
ring their base of operation to the
Texas coast of the Gulf, and the bird
is now in a fair way to be utterly
destroyed there also. He found them
very rare in 1891 at Matagorda Bay,

—May Riley Smith.

Texas. This particular specimen is a
remarkably fine one, from the fact that
it has fifty-two plumes, the ordinary
number being from thirty to forty.

Nothing for some time has been
more commonly seen than the delicate
airy plinnes which stand upright in
ladies' bonnets. These little feathers,
says a recent writer, were provided by
nature as the nuptial adornment of the
White Heron. Many kind-hearted
women who would not on any account
do a cruel act, are, by following this
fashion, causing the continuance of a
great cruelty. If ladies who are seem-
ingly so indifferent to the inhumanity
practiced by those who provide them
with this means of adornment would
apply to the Humane Education Com-
mittee, Providence, R. I., for informa-
tion on the subject, they would them-
selves be aroused to the necessity of
doing something towards the protec-
tion of our birds. Much is, however,
being done by good men and women
to this end.

The Little Egret moves through the
air with a noble and rapid flight. It
is curious to see it pass directly
overhead. The head, body and legs
are held in line, stiff and immovable,
and the gently waving wings carry the
bird along with a rapidity that seems
the effect of magic.

An old name of this bird was Hern,
or Hernshaw, from which was derived
the saying, " He does not know a
Hawk from a Hernshaw." The last
word has been corrupted into " hand-
saw," rendering the proverb meaning-
less.

SUMMARY

Page 3.

BALD EAGLE. — Halicretus leucocephalus.
Other names: "White-beaded Eagle," "Bird
of Washington," "Gray Eagle," "Sea Eagle."
Dark brown. Head, tail, and tail coverts ■white.
Tarsus, naked. Young with little or no white.

Range — North America, breeding through-
out its range.

Nest — Generally in tall trees.

Eggs — Two or three, dull white.

Page 8.

SEMI-PALMATED PLOVER— .^^m/zVz5
senii-palmata. Other names: " American Ring
Plover," "Ring Neck," "Beach Bird." Front,
throat, ring around neck, and entire under
parts white ; band of deep black across the
breast ; upper parts ashy brown. Toes con-
nected at base.

Range — North America in general, breeding
in the Arctic and sub-arctic districts, winters
from the Gulf States to Brazil.

Nest — Depression in the ground, with lining
of dry grass.

Eggs — Three or four ; buffy white, spotted
with chocolate.

Page 1 1

MALLARD DUCK.— y4«a5 boschas. Other
names: " Green-head," "Wild Duck." Adult
male, in fall, winter, and spring, beauti-
fully colored ; summer, resembles female —
sombre.

Range — Northern parts of Northern Hemis-
phere.

Nest — Of grasses, on the ground, usual] 3'
near the water.

Eggs — Six to ten; pale green or bluish white.

Page 15.

AMERICAN AVOCET. — Recurviroslra
atnericana. Other names: "White Snipe,"
"Yelper," "Lawyer," "Scooper. "

Range — Temperate North America.

Nest — A slight depression in the ground.

Eggs — Three or four; pale olive or buffy clay
color, spotted with chocolate.
Page 20.

CANVAS -BACK. — Aythya vallisneria.
Other names: "White-back," "Bull-neck,"
"Red-headed Bull-neck."

Range — North America. Breeds only in the
interior, from northwestern states to the Arctic
circle ; south in winter to Guatemala.

Nest — On the ground, in marshy lakesides.

Eggs — Six to ten; buffy white, with bluish
tinge.

Page 21.

WOOD DUCK.— ^z-r sponsa. Coloring,
varied; most beautiful of ducks. Other names:
"Summer Duck," "Bridal Duck," "Wood
Widgeon," "Tree Duck."

Range — North America. Breeds from
Florida to Hudson's Bay ; winters south.

Nest — Made of grasses, usually placed in a
hole in tree or stump.

Eggs — Eight to fourteen ; pale, buffy white.

Page 26.

SNAKE BYRD.—Anhinga anhinga. Other
names: " Water Turkey," "Darter," "Water
Crow," " Grecian Lady."

Range — Tropical and sub-tropical America.

Nest — Of sticks, lined with moss, rootlets,
etc., in a bush or tree over the water.

Eggs — Two to four ; bluish white, with a
chalky deposit.

Page 30.

AMERICAN WOODCOCK. — Philohela
minor. Other names : "Bog-sucker," "Mud
Snipe," "Blind Snipe."

Range — Eastern North America, breeding
throughout its range.

Nest — Of dried leaves, on the ground.

Eggs — Four ; buffy, spotted with shades of
rufous.

Page 33.

WHITE-WINGED SCOTER. — Oidemia
deglandi. Other names: "American Velvet
Scoter," "White-winged Coot," "Uncle Sam
Coot."

Range — Northern North America ; breeding
in Labrador and the fur countries ; south in
winter.

Nest — On the ground, beneath bushes.

Eggs — Six to ten ; pale, dull buff.

Page 38.

SNOWY HERON.— .r4>-£^m candidissima.
Othernames: " Little Egret," "White-crested
Egret," " White Poke."

Range — Tropical and temperate America.

Nest — A platform of sticks, in bushes, over
water.

Eggs— Three to five ; pale, dull blue.

BIRDS.

Illustrated by COLOR PfiOTOGRflPHY.

Vol. IL

AUGUST.

No. 2.

BIRD SONG.

E made several early morn-
ing excursions into the
woods and fields during
the month of June, and
were abundantly rewarded in many
ways — by beholding the gracious
awakening of Nature in her various
forms, kissed into renewed activity by
the radiance of morn ; by the sweet
smelling air filled with the perfume of
a multitude of opening flowers which
had drunk again the dew of heaven;
by the sight of flitting clouds across
the bluest of skies, patching the green
earth with moving shadows, and sweet-
est of all, by the twittering, calling,
musical sounds of love and joy which
came to the ear from the throats of the
feathered throng. How pleasant to
lie prone on one's back on the cool
grass, and gaze upward through the
shady green canopy of boughs, watch-
ing the pretty manoevers, the joyous
greetings, the lively anxieties, the
graceful movements, and even the
sorrowful happenings of the bird-life
above us.

Listen to the variety of their tones,
as manifest as the difference of form
and color. What more interesting
than to observe their habits, and dis-
cover their cosy nests with their beau-
tiful eggs in the green foliage? Strange
that so many persons think only of
making a collection of them, robbing
the nests with heartless indifference to
the suffering of the parents, to say
nothing of the invasion which they

make of the undoubted rights the birds
have from nature to protection and
perpetuation.

Strictly speaking, there are few
birds to which the word "singing"
can properly be applied, the majority
of them not having more than two or
three notes, and they with little sug-
gestion of music in them. Chanti-
cleer crows, his spouse cackles or
clucks, as may be suitable to the
occasion. To what ear are these
noises musical? They are rather lang-
uage, and, in fact, the varying notes of
every species of bird have a significance
which can alone be interpreted by its
peculiar habits. If careful note be
made of the immediate conduct of the
male or female bird, as th6 case may
be, after each call or sound, the mean-
ing of it becomes plain.

A hen whose chicks are scattered in
search of food, upon seeing a hawk,
utters a note of warning which we
have all heard, and the young scamper
to her for protection beneath her
wings. When she has laid an egg,
Cut-ciit-ciit-ctit-ot-ciit! announces it from
the nest in the barn. When the chicks
are hatched, her cluck, chtck^ cluck^
calls them from the nest in the wide
world, and her cJiick, chick^ chick^ uttered
quickly, selects for them the dainty
which she has found, or teaches them
what is proper for their diet. A good
listener will detect enough intonations
in her voice to constitute a consid-
erable vocabulary, which, if imitated

[continued on page 57.]

THE AMERICAN OSPREY.

Here is the picture of a
remarkable bird. We know
him better by the name Fish
Hawk. He looks much like the
Eagle in July "Birds." The'
Osprey has no use for Mr. Eagle
though.

You know the Bald Eagle or
Sea Eagle is very fond of fish.
Well, he is not a very good
fisherman and from his lofty
perch he watches for the Fish
Hawk or Osprey. Do you ask
why ? Well, when he sees a
Fish Hawk with his prey, he is
sure to chase him and take it
from him. It is for this reason
that Ospreys dislike the Bald
Eagle.

Their food is fish, which as a
rule they catch alive.

Tt must be interesting to watch
the Osprey at his fishing. He
wings his way slowly ovei* the
water, keeping a watch for fish
as they appear near the surface.

When he sees one that suits
him, he hovers a moment, and
then, closing his wings, falls
upon the fish.

Sometimes he strikes it with
such force that he disappears in
the water for a moment. Soon
we see him rise from the water
with the prey in his claws.

He then flies to some tall tree
and if he has not been discovered
by his enemy, the Eagle, can

have a good meal for his hard
work.

Look at his claws ; then think
of them striking a fish as they
must when he plunges from on
high.

A gentleman tells of an Osprey
that fastened his claws in a fish
that was too large for him.

The fish drew him under and
nothing more was seen of Mr.
Osprey. The same gentleman
tells of a fish weighing six
pounds that fell from the claws
of a Fish Hawk that became
frightened by an Eagle.

The Osprey builds his nest
much like the Bald Eagle. It is
usually found in a tall tree and
out of reach.

Like the Eagle, he uses the
same nest each year, adding to
it. Sometimes it measures five
feet high and thi'ee feet across.
One nest that was found, con-
tained enough sticks, cornstalks,
weeds, moss, and the like, to fill
a cart, and made a load for a
horse to draw. Like the Crows
and Blackbirds they prefer to
live together in numbers. Over
three hundred nests have been
found in the trees on a small
island.

One thing I want you to
I'emember about the Osprey.
They usually remain mated for
life.

om col. F. M.\V<i..arult

THE AMERICAN OSPREY.

N interesting bird, " Winged
Fisher," as he has been hap-
pily called, is seen in places
suited to his habits,
throughout temperate
North America, particularly about
islands and along the seacoast. At
Shelter Island, New York, they are
exceedingly variable in the choice of
a nesting place. On Gardiner's Island
they all build in trees at a distance
varying from ten to seventy-five feet
from the ground ; on Plum Island,
where large numbers of them nest,
many place their nests on the ground,
some being built up to a height of four
or five feet while others are simply a
few sticks arranged in a circle, and the
eggs laid on the bare sand. On Shelter
Island they build on the chimneys of
houses, and a pair had a nest on the
cross-bar of a telegraph pole. Another
pair had a nest on a large rock. These
were made of coarse sticks and sea
weed, anything handy, such as bones,
old shoes, straw, etc. A curious nest
was found some years ago on the coast
of New Jersey. It contained three
eggs, and securely imbedded in the
loose material of the Osprey's nest
was a nest of the Purple Grackle,
containing five eggs, while at the
bottom of the Hawk's nest was a thick,
rotten limb, in which was a Tree
Swallow's nest of seven eggs.

In the spring and early autumn this
familiar eagle-like bird can be seen
hovering over creek, river, and sound.
It is recognized by its popular name of
Fish-Hawk. Following a school of
fish, it dashes from a considerable
height to seize its prey with its stout
claws. If the fish is small it is at once
swallowed, if it is large, (and the Os-
prey will occasionally secure shad,
blue fish, bass, etc., weighing five or
six pounds,) the fish is carried to a

convenient bluff or tree and torn to bits.
The Bald Eagle often robs him of
the fish by seizing it, or startling him
so that he looses his hold.

The Osprey when fishing makes one
of the most breezy, spirited pictures
connected with the feeding habits of
any of our birds, as often there is a
splashing and a struggle under water
when the fish grasped is too large
or the great talons of the bird gets
entangled. He is sometimes carried
under and drowned, and large fish
have been washed ashore with these
birds fastened to them by the claws.

Mrs. Mabel Osgood Wright says: " I
found an Osprey's nest in a crooked
oak on Wakeman's Island in late April,
1893. As I could not get close to the
nest (the island is between a network
of small creeks, and the flood tides
covered the marshes,) I at first thought
it was a monstrous crow's nest, but on
returning the second week in May I
saw a pair of Ospreys coming and go-
ing to and fro from the nest. I hoped
the birds might return another season,
as the nest looked as if it might have
been used for two or three years, and
was as lop-sided as a poorly made hay-
stack. The great August storm of the
same year broke the tree, and the nest
fell, making quite a heap upon the
ground. Among^r the debris were
sticks of various sizes, dried reeds, two
bits of bamboo fishing rod, seaweeds,
some old blue mosquito netting, and
some rags of fish net, also about half
a bushel of salt hay in various stages
of decomposition, and malodorous dirt
galore."

It is well known that Ospreys,
if not disturbed, will continue indefin-
ately to heap rubbish upon their nests
till their bulk is very great. Like the
Owls they can reverse the rear toe.

THE SORA RAIL.

ARIOUS are the names re-
quired to distinguish the
little slate-colored Carolina
Rail from its brethren, Sora,
Common Rail, and, on the Potomac
river, Ortolan, being among them.
He is found throughout temperate
North America, in the weedy swamps
of the Atlantic states in great abund-
ance, in the Middle states, and in Cal-
ifornia. In Ohio he is a common sum
mer resident, breeding in the exten-
sive swamps and wet meadows. The
nest is a rude affair made of grass and
weeds, placed on the ground in a tus-
sock of grass in a boggy tract of land,
where there is a growth of briars, etc.,
where he may skulk and hide in the
wet grass to elude observation. The
nest may often be discovered at a dis-
tance by the appearance of the sur-
rounding grass, the blades of which
are in many cases interwoven over the
nest, apparently to shield the bird
from the fierce rays of the sun, which
are felt with redoubled force on the
marshes.

The Rails feed on both vegetable
and animal food. During the months
of September and October, the weeds
and wild oats swarm with them.
They feed on the nutricious seeds,
small snail shells, worms and larvae of
insects, which they extract from the
mud. The habits of the Sora Rail,
its thin, compressed body, its aversion
to take wing, and the dexterity with

which it runs or conceals itself among
the grass and sedge, are exactly simi-
lar to those of the more celebrated
Virginia Rail.

The Sora frequents those parts of
marshes preferably where fresh water
springs rise through the morass. Here
it generally constructs its nest, '' one
of which," says an observer, " we had
the good fortune to discover. It was
built in the bottom of a tuft of grass
in the midst of an almost impenetrable
quagmire, and M-as composed alto-
gether of old wet grass and rushes.
The eggs had been flooded out of the
nest by the extraordinary rise of the
tide in a violent northwest storm, and
lay scattered about the drift weed.
The usual number of eggs is from six
to ten. They are of a dirty white or
pale cream color, sprinkled with specks
of reddish and pale purple, most num-
erous near the great end."

When on the wing the Sora Rail flies
in a straight line for a short distance
with dangling legs, and suddenly
drops into the water.

The Rails have many foes, and
many nests are robbed of tlieir eggs by
weasels, snakes. Blackbirds, and Marsh
Hawks, although the last cannot
disturb them easily, as the Marsh
Hawk searches for its food while fly-
ing and a majority of the Rails' nests
are covered over, making it hard to
distinguish them when the Hawk is
above.

THE SORA RAIL.

This is one of our fresh-water
marsh birds. I show you his
picture taken where he spends
most of his time.

If it were not for the note
calls, these tall reeds and grasses
would keep from us the secret
of the Rail's home.

Like most birds, though, they
must be heard, and so late in the
aftei'noon you may hear their
clear note, ker-wee.

From all parts of the marsh
you will hear their calls which
they keep up long after darkness
has set in.

This Rail was just about to
step out from the grasses to
feed when the artist took his
picture. See him — head up, and
tail up. He steps along care-
fully. He feels that it is risky
to leave his shelter and is ready
at the first sign of danger, to
dart back under cover.

There are very few fresh-
water marshes where the Rail is
not found.

When a boy, I loved to hear
their note calls and would spend
hours on the edge of a marsh
near my home.

It seemed to me there was no
life among the reeds and cat-
tails of the marsh, but when I
threw a stone among them, the
Rails would always answer with
their ])eeps or keeks.

And so I used to go down to
the marsh with my pockets filled
with stones. Not that I desired
or even expected to injure
one of these birds. Far from it.
It pleased me to hear their calls
from the reeds and grass that
seemed deserted.

Those of you who live near
wild-rice or wild -oat marshes
have a good chance to become
acquainted with this Rail.

In the south these Rails are
found keeping company with
the Bobolinks or Reed-birds as
they are called down there.

THE KENTUCKY WARBLER.

Although this bird is called
the Kentucky Warbler, we must
not think he visits that state
alone.

We find him all over eastern
North America. And a beauti-
ful bird he is.

As his name tells you he is
one of a family of AVarblers.

I told you somewhere else
that the Finches are the largest
family of birds. Next to them
come the Warblers.

Turn back now and see how
many Warblers have been pic-
tured so far.

See if you can tell what things
group them as a family. Notice
their bills and feet.

This bird is usually found in
the dense woods, especially
where there are streams of
water.

He is a good singer, and his
song is very different from that
of any of the other Warblers.

I once watched one of these
birds — olive-green above and
yellow beneath. His mate was
on a nest near by and he was

entertaining her with his song.

He kept it up over two hours,
stopping only a few seconds
between his songs. When I
reached the spot with my field-
glass I was attracted by his
peculiar song. I don't know
how long he had been singing.
I stayed and spent two hours
with him and he showed no
signs of stopping. He may be
singing yet. I hope he is.

You see him here perched on
a granite cliff. I suppose his
nest is near by.

He makes it of twigs and
rootlets, with several thicknesses
of leaves. It is neatly lined
with fine rootlets and you will
always find it on or near the
ground.

In the September and October
number of '' Birds " you will find
several Warblers and Finches.
Try to keep track of them and
may be you can do as many
others have done — tell the names
of new birds that come along by
their pictures which you have
seen in '^ Birds."

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

KENTUCKY WARBLER.
Life size.

THF KRNrUCKV WARBl.FR.

l'rr\\"l\l\X sixty ami sevcniy
w.ublci-s viro described by
Davie in his ^* Nests and
iCs^ii^^ <-"'f North American
nirds,'' and the Retiiuckv*
Warbler is recoj^uizcd as one of the
ina-^t beantifnl of the nnmber, in its
nannors ahnost the connterjwrt of the
Ciolden Crowned Thrush (st.xMi to
deliiihl the eyes of the readers of
HiRixs), thonv;h it is altoiiether a
more conspicuous bini, both on
account of its brilliant pluniaj^e and
i^rcaur activity, the males beinj^,
duiiui; ihe sCvison of neslins^, very
puiiiu\cions, continually chasing one
another about the woixls. It lives
near the around, makinjj its artt'nlly
concealed nest amouj; theUnv herbaj^e
and fecdins;' in the uuderijtvnvlh, the
nu\le siui^ino- front some old loo- or
low bush, liis sono; recalling; that of
the Cardinal, thoui;h much weaker.

The ovdinarv note is a soft
\. Vf/.A. somcwliat like the common
.all of tiie Tcwcc. Considcrinj:^ its
i^reat abundance, .^ays an observer, the
nest of this charmer is very dithcult
to tuul; the temalc, he thought, must
-^hh- lca\e the nest at the approach of
au inluuUM, umnini; beneath the
herbage until a cousideralMe distance
from the nest, when, joined by her
male, the pair by their evidet\t anxiet\-
inisl(.\ul the stvani^er as to its location.

It has been dcclaicd that no i^ronp
o[' birds better deserves the epithet
"pretty "than the Warbleis. 'Managers
are splendid, Humming Hirds ret'id-
!^c!U, others brilliant, gaudy, c>r mag-
uifux-ui, but Warblers alone ate prettv.

The Warblers are mii^ratoi\- birds,
the majoritv o( them passing rapidly
across the United States in spring on
the wav to their northern nesting

grc>unds, and in atitnmn to their wiutet
residence within the tropics. When
tlie apple trees bkx>ni they revel
among the flowers, vicing in activity
and innnbei-s with tl)e bees; "now
probing the Recesses of a bUvssoni for
an insect, then darting to another,
where, jx^ised daintily upon a slender
twig, or suspendcil tVom it. thev
explore hastily but c.uetully tor
another morsel. l\very movement is
the personification of nervous activity,
as if the time for their journey was
short; as, indeed, appears to be the
case, for two or three ilays at mast suf-
fice some species in a single locality.''
We recently saw a letter fnnn a
gentleman living .u l..ike (.^ene\.i, in
which he referred with enthusi.ism t».>
liiKi>s, because it luul en.ibled him to
identify a binl which he had ot'ten
seen in the apple trees among the
blos.soms, particularly the piesent
se.ison. with which he was tutac-
quainted bv name. It was the (.'irehard
Oriole, and he was glad to have a
directorv of nature which would enable
him to add to his knowledge ami correct
errors of ob.serxation. The idea is a
capitol one,aud the beautitul K.entuck\-
W.irbler, unknown to mau\ whi^ see
it often, may be recogni*ted in the
same wa\" by residents of .southern
Indiana and Illinois, R.uisas, svMuc
localities in iMiio, particularly in the
southwestern portion, in parts oi' \c\\
York and New Jersey, in the l>islrict
of Columbia, and in North Carolina,
ll has not heretofore been possible,
even with the best paitited specimens
of birds in the hatul, to satisfactorily
ideutifv the prettv cre.itures, but with
HiKixs as a companion, which nia\
readily be consulted, the siiuleut c.ui-
not be led itito error.

THE RED BREASTED MERGANSER.

HY this duck should be
called red-breasted is not
at first apparent, as at a
a distance the color can
not be distinguished, but seen near, the
reason is plain. It is a common bird
in the United States in winter, where
it is found in suitable localities in the
months of May and June. It is also
a resident of the far north, breeding
abundantly in Newfoundland, Labra-
dor, Greenland, and Iceland. It is
liberally supplied with names, as Red-
breasted Goosander or Sheldrake, Gar-
bill, Sea Robin, etc.

There is a difference in opinion as
to the nesting habits of the Red-breast,
some authorities claiming that, like
the Wood Duck, the nest is placed in
the cavity of a tree, others that it is
usually found on the ground among
brushwood, surrounded with tall
grasses and at a short distance from
water. Davie says that most gener-
ally it is concealed by a projecting
rock or other object, the nest being
made of leaves and mosses, lined with
feathers and down, which are plucked
from the breast of the bird. The ob-

servers are all probably correct, the
bird adapting itself to the situation.

Fish is the chief diet of the Mergan-
ser, for which reason its flesh is rank
and unpalatable. The Bird's appetite
is insatiable, devouring its food in
such quantities that it has frequently
to disgorge several times before it is
able to rise from the water. This
Duck can swallow fishes six or seven
inches in length, and will attempt to
swallow those of a larger size, choking
in the effort.

The term Merganser is derived from
the plan of the bird's bill, which is
furnished with saw teeth fitting into
each other.

The eggs of the Red -Breasted Mer-
ganser vary from six to twelve, are
oval in shape, and are of a yellowish
or reddish-drab, sometimes a dull
buffy -green.

You may have seen pictures of this
Duck, which frequently figures in
dining rooms on the ornamental panels
of stuffed game birds, but none which
could cause you to remember its life-
like appearance. You here see before
you an actual Red-Breasted Merganser.

>Ak

BIRD SONG— Continued from page 41.

with exactness, will deceive Mistress
Pullet herself.

To carry the idea further, we will
take the notes of some of the birds
depicted in this number of Birds.
The Osprey, or Fish-Hawk, has been
carefully observed, and his only dis-
covered note is a high, rapidly repeated
whistle, very plaintive. Doubtless
this noise is agreeable and intelligible
to his mate, but cannot^e called a song,
and has no significance to the listener.

The Vulture utters a low, hissing
sound when disturbed. This is its
only note. Not so with the Bald
Eagle, whose scream emulates the rage
of the tempest, and implies courage,
the quality which associates him with
patriotism and freedom. In the notes
of the Partridge there is a meaning
recognizable by every one. After the
nesting season, when the birds are in
bevies, their notes are changed to what
sportsmen term " scatter calls.'' Not
long after a bevy has been flushed,
and perhaps widely scattered, the
members of the disunited family may
be heard signaling to one another in
sweet minor calls of two and three
notes, and in excitement, they utter
low, twittering notes.

Of the Sora Rails, Mr. Chapman
says, " knowing their calls, you have
only to pass a May or June evening
near a marsh to learn whether they
inhabit it. If there, they will greet
you late in the afternoon with a clear
whistled ker-ivee^ which soon comes
from dozens of invisible birds about
you, and long after night has fallen, it
continues like a springtime chorus of
piping hylas. Now and again it is
interrupted by a high-voiced, rolling
whinney, which, like a call of alarm,
is taken up and repeated by difierent
birds all over the marsh."

Poor Red-breasted Merganser ! He
has only one note, a croak. Perhaps

it was of him that Bryant was think-
ing when he wrote the stanzas " To a
Water- Fowl.''

" The sentiment of feeling awakened
by any of the aquatic fowls is pre-
eminently one of loneliness," says John
Burroughs. " The Wood Duck (see
July Birds) which you approach,
starts from the pond or the marsh, the
Loon neighing down out of the April
sky, the Wild Goose, the Curlew, the
Stork, the Bittern, the Sandpiper, etc.,
awaken quite a different train of emo-
tions from those awakened by the land
birds. They all have clinging to them
some reminiscence and suggestion of
the sea. Their cries echo its wildness
and desolation ; their wings are the
shape of its billows."

But the Evening Grosbeak, the
Kentucky Warbler, the Skylark, land
birds all, are singers. They have
music in their throats and in their
souls, though of varying quality. The
Grosbeak's note is described by differ-
ent observers as a shrill cheepy tee and
a frog-like pcep^ while one writer re-
marks that the males have a single
metallic cry like the note of a trumpet,
and the females a loud chattering like
the large Cherry Birds.

The Kentucky Warbler's song is
entirely unlike that of any other
Warbler, and is a loud, clearly whis-
tled performance of five, six, or seven
notes, tiirdlc, turdle^ Uirdle^ resembling
in tone some of the calls of the Caro-
lina Wren. He is so persistent in his
singing, however, that the Red-Breasted
Merganser's simple croak would some-
times be preferable to it.

But the Skylark—

"All the earth and air

With thj' voice is loud,
As, when night is bare
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams and heaven is
over-flowed."

— C. C. Marble.

THE YELLOW LEGS.

^^/ ELL(

.OW LEGS, or Lesser
^( Tell tale sometimes called
\q) Yellow-leg Snipe, and Little
Cucu, inhabits the whole of
North America, nesting in the cold
temperate and snbarctic districts of the
northern continent, migrating south
in winter to Argentine and Chili. It
is much rarer in the western than
eastern province of North America,
and is only accidental in Europe. It
is one of the wading birds, its food con-
sisting of larvae of insects, small shell
fish and the like.

The nest of the Lesser Yellow
Shanks, which it is sometimes called,
is a mere depression in the ground,
without any lining. Sometimes, how-
ever, it is placed at the foot of a bush,
with a scantv lining of withered leaves.
Four eggs of light drab, bufify or cream
color, sometimes of light brown, are

laid, and the breast of the female is
found to be bare of feathers when en-
gaged in rearing the young. The
Lesser Yellow legs breeds in central
Ohio and Illinois, where it is a regular
summer resident, arriving about the
middle of April, the larger portion of
flocks passing north early in May and
returning about the first of September
to remain until the last of October.

A nest of this species of Snipe was
found situated in a slight depression at
the base of a small hillock near the
border of a prairie slough near Evans-
ton, Illinois, and was 'made of grass
stems and blades. The color of the
eggs in this instance was a deep gray-
ish white, three of which were marked
with spots of dark brown, and the
fourth egg with spots and well defined
blotches of a considerably lighter shade
of the same.

f*"»««'

THE SKYLARK.

This is not an American bird.
I have allowed his picture to be
taken and placed here because
so many of our English friends
desired it.

The skylark is probably the
most noted of birds in Europe.
He is found in all of the coun-
tries of Europe, but England
seems to claim it. Here it stays
during the summer, and goes
south in the winter.

Like our own Meadow Lark,
he likes best to stay in the fields.
Here you will find it when not
on the wing.

Early in the spring the Sky-
lai'k begins his song, and he may
be heard for most of the year.

Sometimes he sings while on
the ground, but usually it is
while he is soaring far above us.

Skylarks do not often seek
the company of persons. There
are some birds, you know, that
seem happy only when they are
near people. Of course, they
are somewhat shy, but as a rule
they prefer to be near people.
AVhile the Skylark does not seek
to be near persons, yet it is not
afraid of them.

A gentleman, while riding
through the country, was sur-
prised to see a Skylark perch on
his saddle. When he tried to
touch it, the Lark moved along
on the horse's back, and finally

dropped under the horse's feet.
Here it seemed to hide. The
rider, looking up, saw a hawk
flying about. This explained the
cause of the skylark's strange
actions.

A pair of these Larks had
built their nest in a meadow.
When the time came for mow-
ing the grass, the little ones
were not large enough to leave
the nest. The mother bird laid
herself flat on the ground, with
her wings spread out. The
father bird took one of the little
ones from the nest and placed
it on the mother's back. She
flew away, took the baby bird
to a safe place, and came back
for another.

This time the father took his
turn. In this way they carried
the little ones to a safe place be-
fore the mowers came.

Like our Meadow Lark, the
Skylark builds her nest on the
ground — never in bushes or
trees. Usually it is built in a
hole below the surface of the
ground. It is for this reason
that it is hard to find.

Then, too, the color of the nest
is much like that of the ground.

Four or five eggs are usually
laid, and in two weeks the little
larks crack the shells, and come
into the world crying for worms
and buffs.

THE SKYLARK.

(5 HE English Skylark has been

. more celebrated in poetry than

oj any other song-bird. Shel-

-^ ley's famous poem is too lon^
to quote and too symmetrical to present
in fragmentary form. It is almost as
musical as the sweet singer itself.

' By the first streak of dawn," says
one familiar with the Skylark, "he
bounds from the dripping herbage,
and on fluttering wings mounts the
air for a few feet ere giving forth his
cheery notes. Then upward, appar-
ently without effort he sails, sometimes
drifting far away as he ascends, borne
as it were by the ascending vapors, so
easily he mounts the air. His notes
are so pure and sweet, and yet so loud
and varied withal, that when they first
disturb the air of early morning all the
other little feathered tenants of the
fields and hedgerows seem irresistibly
compelled to join him in filling the
air with melody. Upwards, ever up-
wards, he mounts, until like a speck
in the highest ether he appears motion-
less ; yet still his notes are heard,
lovely in their faintness, now gradually
growing louder and louder as he
descends, until within a few yards of
the earth they cease, and he drops like
a fraement hurled from above into the
herbage, or flits about it for a short
distance ere alighting." The Lark
sings just as richly on the ground as
when on quivering wing. When in
song he is said to be a good guide to
the weather, for whenever we see him
rise into the air, despite the gloomy
looks of an overcast sky, fine weather
is invariably at hand.

The nest is most frequently in the
grass fields, sometimes amongst the
young corn, or in places little fre-
quented. It is made of dry grass and
moss, and lined with fibrous roots and
a little horse hair. The eggs, usually
four or five in number, are dull white,
spotted, clouded, and blotched over the
entire surface with brownish green.
The female Lark, says Dixon, like all
ground birds, is a very close sitter.

remaining faithful to her charge. She
regains her nest by dropping to the
ground a hundred yards or more from
its concealment.

The food of the Lark is varied, — in
spring and summer, insects and their
larvae, and worms and slugs, in autumn
and winter, seeds.

Olive Thorne Miller tells this pretty
anecdote of a Skylark which she
emancipated from a bird store: " I
bought the skylark, though I did not
want him. I spared no pains to make
the stranger happy. I procured a
beautiful sod of uncut fresh grass, of
which he at once took possession,
crouching or sitting low among the
stems, and looking most bewitching.
He seemed contented, and uttered no
more that appealing cry, but he did
not show much intelligence. His cage
had a broad base behind which he
delighted to hide, and for hours as I
sat in the room I could see nothing of
him, although I would hear him stir-
ring about. If I rose from my seat he
was instantly on the alert, and stretched
his head up to look over at me. I
tried to get a better view of him by
•hanging a small mirror at an angle
over his cage, but he was so much
frightened by it that I removed it,"
"This bird," Mrs. Miller says "never
seemed to know enough to go home.
Even when very hungry he would
stand before his wide open door, where
one step would take him into his
beloved grass thicket, and yet that one
step he would not take. When his
hunger became intolerable he ran
around the room, circled about his
cage, looking in, recognizing his food
dishes, and trying eagerly to get
between the wires to reach them ; and
yet when he came before the open door
he would stand and gaze, but never
go in. After five months' trial, during
which he displayed no particular
intelligence, and never learned to enter
his cage, he passed out of the bird
room, but not into a store."

WILSON^S PHALAROPE.

I©

jERHAPS the most interest-
ing, as it is certainly the
most uncommon, charac-
teristic of this species of
birds is that the male re-
lieves his mate from all domestic duties
except the laying of the eggs. He
usually chooses a thin tuft of grass on
a level spot, but often in an open
place concealed by only a few strag-
gling blades. He scratches a shallow
depression in the soft earth, lines it
with a thin layer of fragments of old
grass blades, upon which the eggs,
three or four, are laid about the last of
May or first of June. Owing to the
low situation in which the nest is
placed, the first set of eggs are often
destroyed by a heavy fall of rain caus-
ing the water to rise so as to submerge
the nest. The instinct of self preser-
vation in these birds, as in many others,
seems lacking in this respect. A
second set,. numbering two or three, is
often deposited in a depression
scratched in the ground, as at first, but
with no sign of any lining.

Wilson's Phalarope is exclusively
an American bird, more common in

the interior than along the sea coast.
The older ornithologists knew little of
it. It is now known to breed in
northern Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin,
Minnesota, the Dakotas, Utah, and
Oregon. It is recorded as a summer
resident in northern Indiana and in
western Kansas. Mr. E. W. Nelson
states that it is the most common
species in northern Illinois, frequent-
ing grassy marshes and low prairies,
and is not exceeded in numbers even by
the ever-present Spotted Sandpiper.
While it was one of our most common
birds in the Calumet region it is now
becoming scarce.

The adult female of this beautiful
species is by far the handsomest of the
small waders. The breeding plumage
is much brighter and richer than that
of the male, another peculiar charac-
teristic, and the male alone possesses
the naked abdomen. The female
always remains near the nest while he
is sitting, and shows great solicitude
upon the approach of an intruder.
The adults assume the winter plumage
during July.

THE EVENING GROSBEAK.

ANDSOMER b i r d s there
may be, but in the opinion
of many this visitant to
various portions of west-
ern North America is
in shape, color, and markings one of the
most exquisite of the feather-wearers.
It has for its habitation the region
extending from the plains to the Pa-
cific ocean and from Mexico into British
America. Toward the North it ranges
further to the east ; so that, while it
appears to be not micommon about
Lake Superior, it has been reported as
occuring in Ohio, New York, and Can-
ada. In Illinois it was observed at
Freeport during the winter of 1870
and 1 87 1, and at Waukegan during
January, 1873. It is a common resi-
dent of the forests of the State of
Washington, and also of Oregon. In the
latter region Dr. Merrill observed the
birds carrying building material to a
huge fir tree, but was imable to locate
the nest, and the tree was practically
inaccessable. Mr. Walter E. Bryant
was the first to record an authentic
nest and eggs of the Evening Gros-
beak. In a paper read before the Cal-
ifornia Academy of Sciences he de-
scribes a nest of this species containing
four eggs, found in Yolo county, Cal-
ifornia. The nest was built in a small
live oak, at a height of ten feet, and
was composed of small twigs support-
ing a thin layer of fibrous bark and a
lining of horse hair. The eggs are of
a clear greenish-ground color, blotched
with pale brown. According to Mr.
Davie, one of the leading authorities
on North American birds, little if any
more information has been obtained
regarding the nests and eggs of the
Evening Grosbeak.

As to its habits, Mr. O. P. Day says,
that about the year 1872, while hunt-
ing during fine autumn weather in the
woods about Eureka, Illinois, he fell
in with a number of these Grosbeaks.

They were feeding in the tree tops no
the seeds of the sugar maple, just then
ripenmg, and were excessively fat.
They were very unsuspicious, and for
a long time suffered liim to observe
them. They also ate the buds of
the Cottonwood tree in company with
the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak.

The song of the Grosbeak is singu-
larly like that of the Robin, and to
one not thoroughly familiar with the
notes of the latter a difference would
not at first be detected. There is a very
decided difference, however, and by
repeatedly listening to both species in
full voice it will be discovered more
and more clearly. The sweet and
gentle strains of music harmonize de-
lightfully, and the concert they make
is well worth the careful attention of
the discriminating student. The value
of such study will be admitted by all
who know how little is known of the
songsters. A gentleman recently said
to us that one day in November
the greater part of the football field
at the south end of Lincoln Park
was covered with Snow Birds. There
were also on the field more than
one hundred grammar and high school
boys waiting the arrival of the foot-
ball team. There was only one
person present who paid any atten-
tion to the birds which were picking
up the food, twittering, hopping, and
flying about, and occasionally indulg-
ing in fights, and all utterly oblivious
of the fact that there were scores of
shouting school boys around and
about them. The gentleman called
the attention of one after another of
ten of the high school boys to the snow
birds and asked what they were. They
one and all declared they were Eng-
lish Sparrows, and seemed astounded
that any one could be so ignorant as
not to know what an English Sparrow
was. So much for the city-bred boy's
observation of birds.

THE EVENING GROSBEAK.

In the far Northwest we find
this beautiful bird the year
around. During the winter he
often comes farther south in
company with his cousin, the
Rose-breasted Grosbeak.

What a beautiful sight it
must be to see a flock of these
birds — Evening Grosbeaks and
Rose-breasted in their pretty
plumage.

Grosbeaks belong to a family
called Finches. The Sparrows,
Buntings, and Crossbills belong
to the same family. It is the
largest family among birds.

You will notice that they all
have stout bills. Their food is
mostly grains and their bills are
well formed to crush the seeds.

Look at your back numbers of
'' Birds" and notice the pictures
of the other Finches I have
named. Don't you think Dame
Nature is very generous with
her colors sometimes ?

Only a few days ago while
strolling through the woods with
my field glass, I saw a pretty
sight. On one tree I saw a Red-
headed Woodpecker, a Flicker,
an Indigo Bunting, and a Rose-
breasted Grosbeak. I thought
then, if we could only have the
Evening Grosbeak our group of
colors would be complete.

Have you ever wondered at
some birds being so prettily
dressed while others have such
dull colors ?

Some people say that the birds
who do not sing must have
bright feathers to make them
attractive. We cannot believe
this. Some of our bright colored
birds are sweet singers, and
surely many of our dull colored
birds cannot sing very well.

Next month you will see the
pictures of several home birds.
See if dull colors have anything
to do with sweet song.

THE TURKEY VULTURE.

This bii'd is found mostly in
the southern states. Here he is
known by the more common
name of Turkey Buzzard.

He looks like a noble bird but
he isn't. AVhile he is well fitted
for flying, and might, if he tried,
catch his prey, he prefers to eat
dead animals.

The people down south never
think of burying a dead horse or
cow. They just drag it out
away from their homes and
leave it to the Vultures who are
sure to dispose of it.

It is very seldom that they
attack a live animal.

They will even visit the streets
of the cities in search of dead
animals for food, and do not
show much fear of man. Often-
times they are found among the
chickens and ducks in the barn-
yard, but have never been known
to kill any.

One gentleman who has
studied the habits of the Vulture
says that it has been known to

suck the eggs of Herons. This
is not common, though. As I
said they prefer dead animals
for their food and even eat their
own dead.

The Vulture is very graceful
while on the wing. He sails
along and you can hardly see
his wings move as he circles
about looking for food on the
ground below.

Many people think the Vulture
looks much like our tame tur-
key.

If you know of a turkey near
by, just compare this picture
with it and you won't think so.

See how chalk -white his bill
is. No feathers on his head, but
a bright red skin*

AVhat do think of the young
chick ? It doesn't seem as
though he could ever be the
large, heavy bird his parent
seems to be.

Now turn back to the first
page of July '^Birds'' and see
how he differs from the Eagle.

THE TURKEY VULTURE.

URKEY BUZZARD is the
familiar name applied to this
bird, on account of his remark-
able resemblance to our com-
mon Turkey. This is the only tespect
however, in which they are alike. It
inhabits the United States and British
Provinces from the Atlantic to the
Pacific, south through Central and
most of South America. Every farmer
knows it to be an industrious scaven-
ger, devouring at all times the putrid
or decomposing flesh of carcasses.
They are found in flocks, not only
flying and feeding in company, but
resorting to the same spot to roost ;
nesting also in communities ; deposit-
ing their eggs on the ground, on rocks,
or in hollow logs and stumps, usual!}-
in thick woods or in a sycamore grove,
in the bend or fork of a stream. The
nest is frequently built in a tree, or in
the cavity of a sycamore stump, though
a favorite place for depositing the
eggs is a little depression under a small
bush or overhanging rock on a steep
hillside.

Renowned naturalists have long
argued that the Vulture does not have
an extraordinary power of smell, but,
according to ]\Ir. Davie, an excellent
authority, it has been proven by the
most satisfactory experiments that the
Turkey Buzzard does possess a keen
sense of smell by which it can dis-
tinguish the odor of flesh at a great
distance.

The flight of the Turkey Vulture is
truly beautiful, and no landscape with
its patches of green woods and grassy
fields, is perfect without its dignified
figure high in the air, moving round in
circles, steady, graceful and easy, and
apparently without effort. " It sails,"
says Dr. Brewer, ''with a steady, even
motion, with wings just above the
horizontal position, with their tips

slightlv raised, rises from the ground
with a single bound, gives a few flaps
of the wings, and then proceeds with
its peculiar soaring flight, rising very
high in the air."

The Vulture pictured in the accom-
panying plate was obtained between the
Brazos river and Matagorda bay. With
it was found the Black Vulture, both
nesting upon the ground. As the
nearest trees were thirty or forty miles
distant these Vultures were always
found in this situation. The birds
selected an open spot beneath a heavy
growth of bushes, placing the eggs
upon the bare ground. The old bird
when approached would not attempt
to leave the nest, and in the case of
the young bird in the plate, the female
to protect it from harm, promptly dis-
gorged the putrid contents of h^r
stomach, which was so offensive that
the intruder had to close his nostrils
with one hand while he reached for
the young bird with the other.

The Turkey Vulture is a very silent
bird, only uttering a hiss of defiance
or warning to its neighbors when feed-
ing, or a low gutteral croak of alarm
when flying low overhead.

The services of the Vultures as scav-
engers in removing offal render them
valuable, and almost a necessity in
southern cities. If an animal is killed
and left exposed to view, the bird is
sure to find out the spot in a very short
time, and to make its appearance as if
called by some magic spell from the
empty air.

"Never stoops the soaring Vulture
On his quarry in the desert,
On the sick or wounded bison,
But another Vulture, watching,
From his high aerial lookout.
Sees the downward plunge and follows;
And a third pursues the second.
Coming from the invisible ether,
First a speck, and then a Vulture,
Till the air is dark with pinions."

TO A WATER FOWL.

Whither, 'uiidst falling dew

While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,
Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue

Thy solitary way?

Vainlv the fowler's eve

Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky.

Thy figure floats along.

Saek'st thou the plashy brink

Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, ,

Or where the rocky billows rise and sink

On the chafed ocean side.

There is a Power whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast—

The desert and illimitable air-
Lone wandering, but not lost.

All day thy wings have fanned,

At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere,
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land

Though the dark night is near.

And soon that toil shall end;

Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and nest,
And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend,

Soon o'er thj' sheltered nest.

Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven

Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet on my heart
Deeply has sunk the lesson thou hast given.

And shall not soon depart.

He who, from zone to zone.

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight.
In the long way that I must tread alone,

Will lead my steps aright.

William Cullen Bryant.

F'rom col h. M. Woodruff.

GAMI-iEL'S PAH'l'Kii)(-Tili.
^2 Life size.

GAMBEL^S PARTRIDGE.

'^i AMBEL'S PARTRIDGE, of
which comparatively little
is known, is a characteristic
game bird of Arizona and
New Mexico, of rare beauty, and with
habits similar to others of the species
■of which there about two hundred.
Mr. W. E. D. Scott found the species
distributed throughout the entire Cat-
alina region in Arizona below an alti-
tude of 5,000 feet. The bird is also
known as the Arizona Quail.

The nest is made in a depression in
the ground sometimes without any
lining. From eight to sixteen eggs
are laid. They are most beautifully
marked on a creamy-white ground
with scattered spots and blotches of
old gold, and sometimes light drab and
chestnut red. In some specimens the
gold coloring is so pronounced that it
strongly suggests 10 the imagination
that this quail feeds upon the grains
of the precious metal which character-
izes its home, and that the pigment
is imparted to the eggs.

After the nesting season these birds
commonly gather in "coveys" or bevies,

usually composed of the members of
but one family. As a rule they are
terrestrial, but may take to trees when
flushed. They are game birds /«r
excellence^ and, says Chapman, trusting
to the concealment afforded by their
dull colors, attempt to avoid detection
by hiding rather than by flying. The
flight is rapid and accompanied by a
startling whirr, caused by the quick
strokes of their small, concave, stiff-
feathered wings. They roost on the
ground, tail to tail, with heads point-
ing outward ; " a bunch of closely
huddled forms — a living bomb whose
explosion is scarcely less startling
than that of dynamite manufacture."

The Partridge is on all hands ad-
mitted to be wholly harmless, and at
times beneficial to the agriculturist.
It is an undoubted fact that it thrives
with the highest system of cultivation,
and the lands that are the most care-
fully tilled, and bear the greatest quan-
tity of grain and green crops, generally
produce the greatest number of Part-
rid pfes.

SUMMARY.

Page 4V

AMERICAN OSPREY— Pan d ion paliaetus
carohnensis.

Range — North America; breeds from Florida
to Labrador ; winters from South Carolina
to northern South America.

Nest — Generally in a tree, thirty to fifty feet
from the ground, rarely on the ground.

Eggs — Two to four ; generally buffy white,
heavily marked with chocolate.

Page 4S.

SORA RAIL. — Porzaua Carolina.

Range — Temperate North America, south to
the West Indies and northern South America.

Nest — Of grass and reeds, placed on the
ground in a tussock of grass, where there is a
growth of briers.

Eggs — From seven to fourteen ; of a ground
color, of dark cream or drab, with reddish
brown spots.

Page 51.

KENTUCKY WARBLER. — Geothlypts
formosa.

Range — Eastern United States ; breeds from
the Gulf States to Iowa and Connecticut ;
winters in Central America.

Nest — Bulky, of twigs and rootlets, firmly
wrapped with leaves, on or near the ground.

Eggs — Four or five ; white or grayish white,
speckled or blotched with rufous.

Page 55

RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. — Mer-
ganser Serrator.

.VvANGE — Northern parts of the Northern
Hemisphere ; in America breeds from northern
Illinois and New Brunswick northward to the
arctic regions ; winters southward to Cuba.

Nest — Of leaves, grasses, mosses, etc., lined
with down, on the ground near water, among
rocks or scrubby bushes.

Eggs — Six to twelve ; creamy buff.

Page 60.

YELLOW-LEGS.— Tetanus flavipes.

Range — North America, breeding chiefly in
the interior from Minnesota, northern Illinois,
Ontario County, N. Y., northward to the Arctic
regions; winters from the Gulf States to
Patagonia.

Eggs— Three or four; buflfy, .spotted or
blotched with dark madder — or van dyke —
brown and purplish gray.

Page 61.

SKYLARK.— /4/««a'a arvensis.

Range — Europe and portions of Asia and
Africa ; accidental in the Bermudas and in
Greenland.

Nest — Placed on the ground, in meadows or
open grassy places, sheltered by a tuft of grass ;
the materials are grasses, plant stems, and a
few chance leaves.

Eggs — Three to five, of varying form, color,
and size.

Page 66.
WILSON'S PHALAROPE. — Phalaropus

tricolor.

Range — Temperate North America, breeding
from northern Illinois and Utah northward to
the Saskatchewan region ; south in winter to
Brazil and Patagonia.

Nest — A shallow depression in soft earth,
lined with a thin layer of fragments of grass.

Eggs — Three to four; cream buff or bufFy
white, heavily blotched with deep chocolate.

Page 70.

EVENING GROSBEAK. — Cocothraustes
vespertina.

Range — Interior of North America, from
Manitoba northward ; southeastward in winter
to the upper Mississippi Valley and casually to
the northern Atlantic States.

Nest — Of small twigs, lined with bark, hair,
or rootlets, placed within twenty feet of the
ground.

Eggs— Tliree or four ; greenish, blotched
with pale brown.

Page 73.

TURKEY ^nJVT\SKE—Catharista Atrata.

Range — Temperate America, from New
Jersey southward to Patagonia.

Nest — In hollow stump or log, or on ground
beneath bushes or palmettos.

Eggs — One to three ; dull white, spotted and
blotched with chocolate marking.

Page 78.

GAMBEL'S PARTRIDGE. — Callipepla
gainbeli

Range — Northwestern Mexico, Arizona, New
Mexico, southern Utah, and western Utah and
western Texas.

Nest — Placed on the ground, sometimes
without any lining.

Eggs — From eight to sixteen.

BIRDS.

Vol. II.

Illustrated by COLOR PHOTOGRf\PHY.

SEPTEMBER,

No. 3.

BIRD SONG.

How songs are made
Is a mystery,
Which studied for years
Still baffles me.

— R. H. Stoddard.

OME birds are poets and
sing all summer,'' says
Thoreau. "They are the
true singers. Any man
can write verses in the
love season. We are most interested
in those birds that sing for the love of
music, and not of their mates ; who
meditate their strains and amuse
themselves with singing ; the birds
whose strains are of deeper sentiment."
Thoreau does not mention by name
any of the poet-birds to which he
alludes, but we think our selections
for the present month include some of
them. The most beautiful specimen
of all, which is as rich in color and
"sun-sparkle'' as the most polished
gem to which he owes his name, the
Ruby-throated Humming-bird, cannot
sing at all, uttering only a shrill
mouse-like squeak. The humming
sound made by his wings is far more
agreeable than his voice, for "when
the mild gold stars flower out" it an-
nounces his presence. Then

"A dim shape quivers about
Some sweet rich heart of a rose."

He hovers over all the flowers that
possess the peculiar sweetness that he
loves — the blossoms of the honey-
suckle, the red, the white, and the
yellow roses, and the morning glory.
The red clover is as sweet to him as
to the honey bee, and a pair of them
may often be seen hovering over the
blossoms for a moment, and then dis-
appearing with the quickness of a

flash of light, soon to return to the
same spot and repeat the performance.
Squeak, squeak! is probably their call
note.

Something of the poet is the Yellow
Warbler, though his song is not quite
as long as an epic. He repeats it a
little too often, perhaps, but there is
such a pervading cheerfulness about
it that we will not quarrel with the
author. Szveet-sweet-sweet-sweet-sweet-
sweeter-sweeter ! is his frequent contri-
bution to the volume of nature, and
all the while he is darting about the
trees, "carrying sun-glints on his back
wherever he goes." His song is ap-
propriate to every season, but it is in
the spring, when we hear it first, that
it is doubly welcome to the ear. The
wrateful heart asks with Bourdillon:

"What tidings hath the Warbler heard
That bids him leave the lands of summer
For woods and fields where April yields
Bleak welcome to the blithe newcomer?"

The Mourning Dove may be called
the poet of melancholy, for its song
is, to us, without one element of cheer-
fulness. Hopeless despair is in every
note, and, as the bird undoubtedly
does have cheerful moods, as indicated
by its actions, its song must be ap-
preciated only by its mate. Coo-o, coo-o!
suddenly thrown upon the air and
resounding near and far is something
hardly to be extolled, we should think,
and yet the beautiful and graceful
Dove possesses so many pretty ways
that every one is attracted to it, and
the tender affection of the mated pair

is so manifest, and their constancy so
conspicnous, that the name has become
a symbol of domestic concord.

The Cuckoo must utter his note in
order to be recognized, for few that
are learned in bird lore can discrimi-
nate him save from his notes. He
proclaims himself by calling forth his
own name, so that it is impossible to
make a mistake about him. Well,
his note is an agreeable one and has
made him famous. As he loses his
song in the summer months, he is
inclined to make good use of it when
he finds it again. English boys are
so skillful in imitating the Cuckoo's
song, which they do to an exasperating
extent, that the bird himself may
often wish for that of the Nightingale,
which is inimitable.

But the Cuckoo's song, monotonous
as it is, is decidedly to be preferred to
that of the female House Wren, with its
Chit-chit-chit-chit, when suspicious or in
anger. The male, however, is a real
poet, let us say — and sings a merry
roulade, sudden, abruptly ended, and
frequently repeated. He sings, ap-
parently, for the love of music, and is
as merry and gay when his mate is
absent as when she is at his side,
proving that his singing is not solely
for her benefit.

So good an authority as Dr. Cones
vouches for the exquisite vocalization
of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet. Have
you ever heard a wire vibrating? Such
is the call note of the Ruby, thin and
metallic. But his song has a fullness,
a variety, and a melody, which, being
often heard in the spring migration,
make this feathered beauty addition-
ally attractive. Many of the fine
songsters are not brilliantly attired,
but this fellow has a combination of
attractions to commend him as worthy
of the bird student's careful attention.

Of the Hermit Thrush, whose song
is celebrated, we will say only, "Read
everything you can find about him."
He will not be discovered easily, for

even Olive Thorne Miller, who is pre-
sumed to know all about birds, tells of
her pursuit of the Hermit in northern
New York, where it was said to be
abundant, and finding, when she
looked for him, that he had always
"been there" and was gone. But one
day in August she saw the bird and
heard the song and exclaimed : "This
only was lacking — this crowns my
summer."

The Song Sparrow can sing too, and
the Phoebe, beloved of man, and the
White-breasted Nuthatch, a little.
They do not require the long-seeking
of the Hermit Thrush, whose very
name implies that he prefers to flock
by himself, but can be seen in our
parks throughout the season. But the
Sparrow loves the companionship of
man, and has often been a solace to
him. It is stated by the biographer of
Kant, the great metaphysician, that
at the age of eighty he had become
indifferent to much that was passing
around him in which he had formerly
taken great interest. The flowers
showed their beautious hues to him in
vain ; his weary vision gave little heed
to their loveliness; their perfume
came unheeded to the sense which
before had inhaled it with eagerness.
The coming on of spring, which he
had been accustomed to hail with
delight, now gave him no joy save
that it brought back a little Sparrow,
which came annually and made its
home in a tree that stood by his
window. Year after year, as one
generation went the way of all the
earth, another would return to its
birth-place to reward the tender care
of their benefactor by singing to him
their pleasant songs. And he longed
for their return in the spring witli "an
eagerness and intensity of expecta-
tion."

How many provisions nature has
for keeping us simple-hearted and
child-like ! The Song Sparrow is one
of them. — C. C. Marble.

A\ W.joJrulf.

SUMMER YELLOW-BIRD.
a ft Lif3-si3e.

Nature Study

Copvrighteti by

dy I'ub. Co., 189", Chicago.

THE YELLOW WARBLER.

QJA.

(^pl^N a recent article Angus Gaines
describes so delightfully some
of the characteristics of the
Yellow Warbler, or Summer
Yellow bird, sometimes called
the Wild Canary, that we are tempted
to make use of part of it. "Back and
forth across the garden the little yel-
low birds were flitting, dodging
through currant and gooseberry
bushes, hiding in the lilacs, swaying
for an instant on swinging sprays of
grape vines, and then flashing out
across the garden beds like yellow
sunbeams. They were lithe, slender,
dainty little creatures, and were so
quick in their movements that I could
not recognize them at first, but when
one of them hopped down before me,
lifted a fallen leaf and dragged a cut-
worm from beneath it, and, turning
his head, gave me a sidewise glance
with his victim still struggling in his
beak, I knew him. His gay coat was
yellow without the black cap, wings,
and tail which show in such marked
contrast to the bright canary hue of
that other yellow bird, the Gold-finch.

"Small and delicate as these birds
are, they had been on a long journey
to the southward to spend the winter,
and now on the first of IMay, they had
returned to their old home to find the
land at its fairest — all blossoms, buds,
balmy air, sunshine, and melody. As
they flitted about in their restless way,
they sang the soft, low, warbling trills,
which gave them their name of Yellow
Warbler."

Mrs. W^right says these beautiful
birds come like whirling leaves, half

autumn yellow, half green of spring,
the colors blending as in the outer
petals of grass-grown daffodils.
"Lovable, cheerful little spirits, dart-
ing about the trees, exclaiming at each
morsel that they glean. Carrying
sun glints on their backs wherever
they go, they should make the
gloomiest misanthrope feel the season's
charm. They are so sociable and
confiding, feeling as much at home in
the trees by the house as in seclusion."

The Yellow-bird builds in bushes,,
and the nest is a wonderful example
of bird architecture. Milkweed, lint
and its strips of fine bark are glued to
twigs, and form the exterior of the
nest. Its inner lining is made of the
silky down on dandelion-balls woven
together with horse-hair. In this
dainty nest are laid four or five creamy
white eggs, speckled with lilac tints
and red-browns. The unwelcome egg
of the Cow-bird is often found in the
Yellow-bird's nest, but this Warbler
builds a floor over the egg^ repeating
the expedient, if the Cow-bird con-
tinues her mischief, until sometimes a
third story is erected.

A pair of Summer Yellow-birds, we
are told, had built their nest in a wild
rose bush, and were rearing their
family in a wilderness of fragrant
blossoms whose tinted petals dropped
upon the dainty nest, or settled upon
the back of the brooding mother.
The birds, however, did not stay "to
have their pictures taken," but their
nest may be seen among the roses.

The Yellow Warbler's song is Sweet-
szveet-sweet- sweet - szveet - sweet - siveeter-
sweeter: seven times repeated.

THE HERMIT THRUSH.

QJ.

(TY'N John Burroughs' "Birds and
Poets" this master singer is
described as the most melodious
of our songsters, with the ex-
ception of the Wood Thrush,
a bird whose strains, more than any
other's, express harmony and serenity,
and he compLiins that no merited
poetic monument has yet been reared
to it. But there can be no good
reason for complaining of the
absence of appreciative prose concern-
ing the Hermit. One writer says:
"How pleasantly his notes greet the
ear amid the shrieking of the wind
and the driving snow, or when in a
calm and lucid interval of genial
weather we hear him sing, if possible,
more richly than before. His song
reminds us of a coming season when
the now dreary landscape will be
clothed in a blooming garb befitting
the vernal year — of the song of the
Blackbird and Lark, and hosts of other
tuneful throats which usher in that
lovely season. Should you disturb
him when singing he usually drops
down and awaits your departure,
though sometimes he merely retires to
a neighboring tree and warbles as
sweetly as before."

In "Birdcraft" Mrs. Wright tells us,
better than any one else, the story of
the Hermit. She says: "This spring,
the first week in jMay, when standing
at the window about six o'clock in the
morning, I heard an unusual note, and
listened, thinking it at first a Wood
Thrush and then a Thrasher, but soon
finding that it was neither of these I
opened the window softly and looked
among the near by shrubs, with my
glass. The wonderful melody ascended
gradually in the scale as it progressed,
now trilling, now legato, the most
perfect, exalted, unrestrained, yet
withal, finished bird song that I ever
heard. At the first note I caught
sight of the singer perching among
the lower sprays of a dogwood tree.

I could see him perfectly: it was the
Hermit Thrush. In a moment he
began again. I have never heard the
Nightingale, but those who have say
that it is the surroundings and its con-
tinuous night singing that make it even
the equal of our Hermit; for, while
the Nightingales sing in numbers in
the moonlit groves, the Hermit tunes
his lute sometimes in inaccessible soli-
tudes, and there is something imma-
terial and immortal about the
song."

The Hermit Thrush is comparatively
common in the northeast, and in
Pennsylvania it is, with the exception
of the Robin, the commonest of the
Thrushes. In the eastern, as in many
of the middle states, it is only a
migrant. It is usually regarded as a
shy bird. It is a species of more
general distribution than any of the
small Thrushes, being found entirely
across the continent and north to the
Arctic regions. It is not quite the
same bird, however, in all parts of its
range, the Rocky Mountain region
being occupied b)' a larger, grayer
race, while on the Pacific coast a
dwarf race takes its place. It is
known in parts of New England as
the "Ground Swamp Robin," and in
other localities as "Swamp Angel."

True lovers of nature find a certain
spiritual satisfaction in the song of
this bird. "In the evening twilight
of a June day," says one of these,
"when all nature seemed resting in
quiet, the liquid, melting, lingering
notes of the solitary bird would steal
out upon the air and move us strange-
ly. What was the feeling it awoke in
our hearts? Was it sorrow or joy,
fear or hope, memory or expectation?
And while we listened, we thought
the meaning of it all was coming; it
was trembling on the air, and in an
instant it would reach us. Then it
faded, it was gone, and we could not
even remember what it had been."

From c il. 1' A\- Woodruff.

HERMIT THRUSH.
■^ 5 Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicag(

THE HERMIT THRUSH.

I am sorry, children, that I
cannot give you a specimen of
my song as an introduction to
the short story of my life. One
writer about my family says it
is like this: ^'0 spheral, spheral!

0 holy, holy! O clear away,
clear away! 0 clear up, clear
up!" as if I were talking to the
weather. May be my notes do
sound something like that, but

1 prefer you should hear me
sing when I am alone in the
woods, and other birds are
silent. It is ever being said of
me that I am as fine a singer as
the English Nightingale. I
wish I could hear this rival of
mine, and while I have no doubt
his voice is a sweet one, and I
am not too vain of my own, I
should like to ''compare notes"
with him. AVhy do not some of
you children ask your parents to
invite a few pairs of Nightin-
gales to come and settle here?
They would like our climate,
and would, I am sure, be wel-
comed by all the birds with a
warmth not accorded the Eng-
lish Sparrow, who has taken
possession and, in spite of my

love for secret hiding places,
will not let even me alone.

AVhen you are oldei", children,
you can read all about me in
another part of Birds. I will
merely tell you here that I live
with you only from May to
October, coming and going away
in company with the other
Thrushes, though I keep pretty
well to myself while here, and
while building my nest and
bringing up my little ones I
hide myself from the face of
man, although I do not fear his
presence. That is why I am
called the Hermit.

If you wish to know in what
way I am unlike my cousin
Thrushes in appearance, turn
to pages 84 and 182, Yol. 1, of
Birds. There you will see their
pictures. I am one of the small-
est of the family, too. Some
call me '' the brown bird with
the rusty tail," and other names
have been fitted to me, as
Ground Gleaner, Tree Trapper,
and Seed Sower. But I do not
like nicknames, and am just
plain,

Hermit Thrush.

THE SONG SPARROW.

Glimmers gay the leafless thicket
Close beside my garden gate,
Where, so light, from post to wicket.
Hops the Sparrow, blithe, sedate;
Who, with meekly folded wing,
Comes to sun himself and sing.

It was there, perhaps, last year,
That his little house he built;
For he seemed to perk and peer
And to twitter, too, and tilt
The bare branches in between,
With a fond, familiar mien.

■ — Geokgk Parsons Lathrop.

nearly
round,

E do not think it at all
amiss to say that this dar-
ling among song birds
can be heard singing
everywhere the whole year
although he is supposed to
come in IVIarch and leave us in Nov-
ember. We have heard him in Feb-
ruary, when his little feet made tracks
in the newly fallen snow, singing as
cheerily as in April, May, and June,
when he is supposed to be in ecstacy.
Even in Augitst, when the heat of
the dog-days and his molting time
drive him to leafy seclusion, his liquid
notes may be listened for with cer-
tainty, while "all through October
they sound clearly above the rustling
leaves, and some morning he comes to
the dog-wood by the arbor and an-
nounces the first frost in a song that is
more direct than that in which he
told of spring. While the chestnuts
fall from their velvet nests, he is
singing in the hedge ; but when the
brush heaps burn away to fragrant
smoke in November, they veil his
song a little, but it still continues."
While the Song Sparrow nests in

the extreme northern part of Illinois,
it is known in the more southern
portions only as a winter resident.
This is somewhat remarkable, it is
thought, since along the Atlantic
coast it is one of the most abundant
summer residents throughout Mary-
land and Virginia, in the same lati-
tudes as southern Illinois, where it is
a winter sojourner, abundant, but
very retiring, inhabiting almost solely
the bushy swamps in the bottom
lands, and unknown as a song bird.
This is regarded as a remarkable
instance of variation in habits with
locality, since in the Atlantic states
it breeds abundantly, and is besides
one of the most familiar of the native
birds.

The location of the Song Sparrow's
nest is variable; sometimes on the
ground, or in a low bush, but usually
in as secluded a place as its instinct of
preservation' enables it to find. A
favorite spot is a deep shaded ravine
through which a rivulet ripples, where
the solitude is disturbed only by the
notes of his song, made more sweet
and clear by the prevailing silence.

THE SONG SPARROW.
Dear Young Readers :

T fancy many of the little
folks who are readers of Birds
are among my acquaintances.
Though I have never spoken to
you, T have seen your eyes
brighten when my limpid little
song has been borne to you by a
passing breeze which made
known my presence. Once I
saw a pale, worn face turn to
look at me from a window, a
smile of pleasure lighting it up.
And 1 too was pleased to think
that 1 had given some one a
moment's happiness. I have
seen bii'd lovei's (for we have
lovers, and many of them) pause
on the highway and listen to
my pretty notes, which I know
as well as any one have a cheer-
ful and patient sound, and
which all the world likes, for to
be cheered and encouraged
along the pathway of life is like
a pleasant medicine to my weary
and discouraged fellow citizens.
For you must know I am a citi-
zen, as my friend Dr. Coues
calls me, and all my relatives.
He and Mrs. Mabel Osgood
Wright liave written a book
about us called ''Citizen Bird,"
and in it they have supported us
in all our rights, which even
you children are beginning to
admit we have. You are kinder
to us than you used to be. Some
of you come quickly to our
rescue from untaught and

thoughtless boys who, we think,
if they w^ere made to know how
sensitive we are to suffering and
wrong, would tui-n to be our
friends and protectors instead.
One dear boy I remember well
( and he is considered a hero by
the Song Sparrows) saved a nest
of our birdies from a cruel
school boy robber. AVhy should
not all strong boys become our
champions ? Many of them
have great, honest, sympathetic
hearts in their bosoms, and, if
we can only enlist them in our
favor, they can give us a peace
and protection for which for
years w^e have been sighing.
Y'^es, sighing, because our hearts,
though little, are none the less
susceptible to all the asperities
— the terrible asperities of
human nature. Papa will tell
you what I mean: you would
not understand bird language/
Did you ever see my nest? I
build it near the gi'ound, and
sometimes, wdien kind friends
prepare a little box for me, I
occupy it. My song is quite
varied, but you will always
recognize me by my call note,
Chek! Chek! Chek ! Some people
say they hear me repeat "Maids,
maids, maids, hang on your
teakettle," but I think this is
only fancy, for I can sing a real
song, admired, I am sure, by all
who love

Song Sparrow.

THE CUCKOO.

UR first introduction to the
Cuckoo was by means of
the apparition whicli issued
hourly from a little German
clock, such as are frequently
found in -country inns. This jJarticu-
lar clock had but one dial hand, and
the exact time of day could not
be determined by it until the appear-
ance of the Cuckoo, who, in a squeak-
ing voice, seemed to announce that it
was just one hour later or earlier, as
the case might be, than at his last
appearance. We were puzzled, and
remember fancying that a sun dial, in
clear weather, would be far more
satisfactory as a time piece. "Coo-coo,"
the image repeated, and then retired
until the hour hand should summon
him once more.

To very few people, not students of
birds, is the Cuckoo really known.
Its evanescent voice is often recog-
nized, but being a solitary wanderer
even ornithologists have yet to learn
much of its life history. In their
habits the American and European
Cuckoos are so similar that whatever
of poetry and sentiment has been
written of them is applicable alike to
either. A delightful account of the
species may be found in Dixon's Bird
Life, a book of refreshing and original
observation.

"The Cuckoo is found in the verdant
woods, in the coppice, and even on
the lonely moors. He flits from one
stunted tree to another and utters his
notes in company with the wild song
of the Ring Ousel and the harsh calls
of the Grouse and Plover. Though
his notes are monotonous, still no one
gives them this appellation. No! this
little wanderer is held too dear by us
all as the harbinger of spring for
aught but praise to be bestowed on his
mellow notes, which, though full and
soft, are powerful, and may on a calm
morning, before the every-day hum of
human toil begins, be heard a mile
away, ov'er wood, field, and lake.
Toward the summer solstice his notes

are on the wane, and when he gives
them forth we often hear him utter
them as if laboring under great diffi-
culty, and resembling the syllables,
" Coo-coo-coo-coo.

On one occasion Dixon says he
heard a Cuckoo calling in treble
notes, Cuckoo-oo^ ciick-oo-oo, inex-
pressibly soft and beautiful, notably
the latter one. He at first supposed
an echo was the cause of these strange
notes, the bird being then half a mile
away, but he satisfied himself that this
was not the case, as the bird came and
alighted on a noble oak a few yards
from him and repeated the notes.
The Cuckoo utters his notes as he
flies, but only, as a rule, when a few
yards from the place on which he
intends alighting.

The opinion is held by some ob-
servers that Nature has not intended
the Cuckoo to build a nest, but influ-
ences it to lay its eggs in the nests of
other birds, and intrust its young to
the care of those species best adapted
to bring them to maturity. But the
American species does build a nest,
and rears its young, though Audubon
gives it a bad character, saying: "It
robs smaller birds of their eggs." It
does not deserve the censure it has
received, however, and it is useful
in many ways. Its hatred of the
worm is intense, destroying many
more than it can eat. So thoroughh'
does it do its work, that orchards,
which three years ago, were almost
leafless, the trunks even being covered
by slippery webbing, are again yield-
ing a good crop.

In September and October the
Cuckoo is silent and suddenly disap-
pears. "He seldom sees the lovely
tints of autumn, and never hears the
wintry storm-winds' voice, for, im-
pelled by a resistless impulse, he
wings his way afar over mountain,
stream, and sea, to a land where
northern blasts are not felt, and where
a summer sun is shining in a cloud-
less sky."

THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMING BIRD.

Is it a gem, half bird,
Or is it a bird, half gem?

—Edgar Fawcett.

F all animated beings this is
the most elegant in form
and the most brilliant in
colors, says the great nat-
uralist BufFon. The stones
and metals polished by our arts are
not comparable to this jewel of Nature.
She has it least in size of the order of
birds, maxime miranda in minimis. Her
masterpiece is the Humming-bird, and
upon it she has heaped all the gifts
which the other birds may only share.
Lightness, rapidity, nimbleness, grace,
and rich apparel all belong to this
little favorite. The emerald, the ruby,
and the topaz gleam upon its dress.
It never soils them with the dust of
earth, and its aerial life scarcely
touches the turf an instant. Always
in the air, flying from flower to flower,
it has their freshness as well as their
brightness. It lives upon their nectar,
and dwells only in the climates where
they perennially bloom.

All kinds of Humming-birds are
found in the hottest countries of the
New World. They are quite numer-
ous and seem to be confined between
the two tropics, for those which pene-
trate the temperate zones in summer
stay there only a short time. They
seem to follow the sun in its advance
and retreat ; and to fly on the zephyr
wing after an eternal spring.

The smaller species of the Hum-
ming-birds are less in size than the
great fly wasp, and more slender than
the drone. Their beak is a fine needle
and their tongue a slender thread.
Their little black eyes are like two
shining points, and the feathers of
their wings so delicate that they seem
transparent. Their short feet, which
they use very little, are so tiny one
can scarcely see them. They rarely
alight during the day. They have a

swift continual humming flight. The
movement of their wings is so rapid
that when pausing in the air, the bird
seems quite motionless. One sees him
stop before a blossom, then dart like a
flash to another, visiting all, plunging
his tongue into their hearts, flattening
them with his wings, never settling
anywhere, but neglecting none. He
hastens his inconstancies only to pur-
sue his loves more eagerly and to
multiply his innocent joys. For this
light lover of flowers lives at their
expense without ever blighting them.
He only pumps their honey, and for
this alone his tongue seems designed.

The vivacity of these small birds is
only equaled by their courage, or
rather their audacity. Sometimes
they may be seen furiously chasing-
birds twenty times their size, fastening
upon their bodies, letting themselves
be carried along in their flight, while
they peck fiercely until their tiny rage
is satisfied. Sometimes they fight
each other vigorously. Impatience
seems their very essence. If they ap-
proach a blossom and find it faded,
they mark their spite by a hasty rend-
ing of the petals. Their only voice is
a weak cry of Sere p., serep, frequent
and repeated, which they utter in the
woods from dawn until at the first rays
of the sun they all take flight and
scatter over the country.

The Ruby-throat is the only native
Humming-bird of eastern North
America, where it is a common sum-
mer resident from May to October,
breeding from Florida to Labrador.
The nest is a circle an inch and a half
in diameter, made of fern wood, plant
down, and so forth, shingled with
lichens to match the color of the
branch on which it rests. Its only
note is a shrill, mouse-like squeak.

THE HOUSE WREN.

All the children, it seems to
me, are familiar with the habits
of Johnny and Jenny Wren ;
and many of them, especially
such as have had some experi-
ence with country life, could
themselves tell a story of these
mites of birds. Mr. F. Saunders
tells one: "Perhaps you may
think the AYren is so small a
bird he cannot sing much of a
song, but he can. The way we
first began to notice him was by
seeing our pet cat jumping about
the yard, dodging first one way
and then another, then darting
up a tree; looking surprised,
and disappointingly jumping
down again.

"Pussy had found a new play-
mate, foi- the little Wren evi-
dently thought it great fun to
fly down just in front of her and
dart away before she could
reach him, leading her from one
spot to another, hovering above
her head, chattering to her all
the time, and at last flying up
far out of her reach. This he
repeated day after day, for some
time, seeming to enjoy the fun
of disappointing her so nicely
and easily. But after a while
the little fellow thought he
would like a play-mate nearer
his own size, and went off to
find one. But he came back all

alone, and perched himself on
the very tip-top of a lightning-
rod on a high barn at the back
of the yard; and there he would
sing his sweet little trilling
song, hour after hour, hardly
stopping long enough to find
food for his meals. We won-
dered that he did not grow tired
of it. For about a week we
watched him closely, and one
day I came running into the
house to tell the rest of the
family with surprise and delight
that our little Wren knew what
he was about, for with his win-
ning song he had called a mate
to him. He led her to the tree
where he had played with pussy,
and they began building a nest;
but pussy watched then as well
as we, and meant to have her
revenge upon him yet, so she
sprang into the tree, tore the
nest to pieces, and tried to catch
Jenny. The birds rebuilt their
nest three times, and finally we
came to their rescue and placed
a box in a safe place under the
eves of the hous^, and Mr.
Wren with his keen, shrewd
eyes, soon saw and appropriated
it. There they stayed and raised
a pretty family of birdies; and
I hope he taught them, as he
did me, a lesson in perseverence
I'll never forget."

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

RUBY-THROATED HUMMING BIRDS.
Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.

■om col. F. N\. Wuudruff.

HOUSE WR£N.
Life-size.

(JopyrigUted by
JSature Study Pub. Co., 1S97, Chicago.

THE RUBY-THROATED HUMMING BIRD.

Dear Young Folks :

I fancy you think I cannot
stop long enough to tell you a
story, even about myself. It is
true, I am always busy with the
flowers, drinking their honey
with my long bill, as you must
be busy with youi* books, if you
would learn what they teach.
I always select for my food the
sweetest flowers that grow in
the garden."

Do you think you would be
vain if you had my beautiful
colors to wear? Of course, you
would not, but so many of my
brothers and sisters have been
destroyed to adorn the bonnets
and headdresses of the thought-
less that the children cannot be
too eai'ly taught to love us too
well to do us harm. Have you
ever seen a ruby? It is one of
the most valued of gems. It is
the color of my throat, and from
its rare and brilliant beauty I
get a part of my name. The
ruby is worn by great ladies
and, with the emerald and topaz,
whose bright colors I also w^ar,
is much esteemed as an orna-
ment.

If you will come into the
garden in the late afternoon,
between six and seven o'clock.

when I am taking my supper,
and when the sun is beginning
to close his great eye, you will
see his rays shoot sidewise and
show all the splendor of my
plumage. You will see me, too,
if your eyes are sharp enough,
draw up my tiny claw^s, pause in
front of a rose, and remain
seemingly motionless. But
listen, and you will hear the
reason for my name — a tense
humming sound. Some call me
a Hummer indeed.

I spend only half the year in
the garden, coming in May and
saying farewell in October.
After my mate and I are gone
you may find our nest. But
your eyes will be sharp indeed
if they detect it when the leaves
are on the trees, it is so small
and blends with the branches.
We use fern-w^ool and soft down
to build it, and shingle it w^ith
lichens to match the branch it
nests upon. Y^ou should see the
tiny eggs of pure white. But
we, our nest and our eggs, are
so dainty and delicate that they
should never be touched. AVe
are only to be looked at and
admired.

Farewell. Look tor me when
you go a-Maying. Kuby.

103

THE HOUSE WREN.

"It was a merry time

When Jenny Wren was young,
When prettily she looked,

And sweetly, too, she sung."

'•(^Tfc'N looking over an old uiemo-
rancUini book the other day,"
says Col. S. T. Walker, of
Florida, "I came across the
following^ notes concerning:
the nesting of the House Wren. I
was sick at the time, and watched the
whole proceeding, from the laying of
the first stick to the conclusion. The
nest was placed in one of the pigeon-
holes of my desk, and the birds
effected an entrance to the room
through sundry cracks in the log
cabin.

Nest begun April 15th.

Nest completed and first egg laid, April 27.

May 3rd.

May 4th.
May i8th.
May 27th.

June 1st.
47 days.

time required for

Last egg laid
Began sitting . .
Hatching completed
Young began to fly
Young left the nest
Total time occupied

Such is the usual
bringing forth a brood of this species
of Wren, which is the best known of
the family. In the Atlantic states it
is more numerous than in the far west,
where wooded localities are its chosen
haunts, and where it is equally at
home in the cottonwoods of the river
valleys, and on the aspens just below
the timber line on lofty mountains.

Mrs. Osgood Wright says very
quaintly that the House Wren is a
bird who has allowed the word wa/e
to be obliterated from its social consti-
tution at least: that we always speak
of Jenny Wren: always refer to the

Wren as she, as we do of a ship. That
it is Johnny Wren who sings and dis-
ports himself generally, but it is Jenny,
who, by dint of much scolding and
fussing, keeps herself well to the front.
She chooses the building-site and
settles all the little domestic details.
If Johnny does not like her choice, he
may go away and stay away; she will
remain where she has taken up her
abode and make a second matrimonial
venture.

The House Wren's song is a merry
one, sudden, abrubtly ended, and fre-
quently repeated. It is heard from the
middle of April to October, and upon
the bird's arrival it at once sets about
preparing its nest, a loose heap of sticks
with a soft lining, in holes, boxes, and
the like. From six to ten tiny, cream-
colored eggs are laid, so thickly spotted
with brown that the whole egg is
tinged.

The House Wren is not only one
of our most interesting and familiar
neighbors, but it is useful as an
exterminator of insects, upon which it
feeds. Frequently it seizes small but-
terflies when on the wing. We have
in mind a sick child whose conva-
lescence was hastened and cheered by
the near-by presence of the merry
House Wren, which sings its sweet
little trilling song, hour after hour,
hardly stopping long enough to find
food for its meals.

104

THE PHOEBE.

Oft the Phoebe's cheery notes

Wake the laboring swain ;

"Come, come!" say the merry throats,

"Morn is here again."

Phoebe, Phoebe ! let them sing for aye,

Calling him to labor at the break of day.

— C. C. M.

EARLY everywhere in the
United States we find this
cheerfnl bird, known as
Pewee, Barn Pewee,
Bridge Pewee, or Phoebe, or Pewit
Flycatcher. "It is one of that chann-
ing coterie of the feathered tribe who
cheer the abode of man with their
presence." There are few farmyards
without a pair of Pewees, who do the
farmer much service by lessening the
number of flies about the barn, and by
cdling him to his work in the morn-
ing b\' their cheery notes.

Dr. Brewer sa>s that this species is
attracted both to the vicinity of water
and to the neighborhood of dwellings, ,
probably for the same reason — the j
abundance of in.sects in either situation.
They are a familiar, confiding, aud ,
gentle bird, attached to localities, and
returning to them year after year.
Their nests are found in sheltered j
situations, as under a bridge, a pro- !
jecting rock, in the porches of houses, '
etc. They have been known to build j
on a small shelf in the porch of a ,
dwelling, against the wall of a railroad j
station, within reach of the passengers, j
and under a projecting window-sill, in i
full view of the familv, eutirelv i

unmoved by the presence of the latter
at meal time.

Like all the flycatcher family the
Phoebe takes its food mostly flying.
INIrs. Wright says that the Pewee in
his primitive state haunts dim v.'oods
and running water, and that when
domesticated he is a great bather, and
may be seen in the half-light dashing
in and out of the water as he makes
trips to and from the nest. After tht
young are hatched both old and young
disport themselves about the water
until moulting time. She advises:
"Do not let the Phoebes build under
the hoods of your windows, for their
spongy nests harbor innumerable bird-
lice, and under such circumstances
your fly-screens will become infested
and the house invaded.'"

In its native woods the nest is of
moss, mud, and grass placed on a rock,
near and over running water; but in
the vicinity of settlements and villages
it is built on a horizontal bridge beam,
or on timber supporting a porch or
shed. The eggs are pure white, some-
what spotted. The notes, to some
ears, are Pliocbt\ phocbc, pewit, phocbi I
to others, of somewhat duller sense of
hearing, perhaps, Ptivtc, pewee, pe^wee!
We confess to a fancy that the latter
is the better imitation.

107

THE RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET.

ASKETT says that the
Kinglets come at a certain
early spring date before
the leaves are fully ex-
panded, and flutter up-
ward, while they take something from
beneath the budding leaf or twig. It
is a peculiar motion, which with their
restless ways, olive-green color, and
small size, readily distinguishes them.
It is rare that one is still. "But the
ruby-crowned sometimes favors me
with a song, and as it is a little long,
he usually is quiet till done. It is
one of the sweetest little lullaby-like
strains. One day I saw him in the
rose bush just near voluntarily expand
the plumage of his crown and show
the brilliant golden-ruby feathers
beneath. Usually they are mostly
concealed. It was a rare treat, and
visible to me only because of my
rather exalted view. He generally
reserves this display for his mate, but
he was here among some Snow-birds
and Tree Sparrows, and seemed to be
trying to make these plain folks
envious of the prettv feathers in his
hat."

These wonderfully dainty little
birds are of great value to the farmer
and the fruit grower, doing good work
among all classes of fruit trees by
killing grubs and larvae. In spite of
their value in this respect, they have
been, in common with many other

attractive birds, recklessly killed for
millinery purposes.

It is curious to see these busy
wanderers, who are always cheery and
sociable, come prying and peering
about the fruit trees, examining every
little nook of possible concealment
with the greatest interest. The}- do
not stay long after November, and
return again in April,

The nest of this Kinglet is rarely
seen. It is of matted hair, feathers^
moss, etc., bulky, round, and partly
hanging. Until recently the eggs
were unknown. They are of a dirty
cream-white, deepening at larger end
to form a ring, some specimens being
spotted.

Mr. Nehrling, who has heard this
Kinglet sing in central Wisconsin and
northern Illinois, speaks of the "power,
purity, and volume of the notes, their
faultless modulation and long con-
tinuance," and Dr. Elliott Cones says
of it: "The Kinglet's exquisite vocal-
ization defies description." Dr. Brewer
says that its song is clear, resonant,
and high, a prolonged series, varying
from the lowest tones to the highest,
and terminating with the latter. It
may be heard at quite a distance, and
in some respects bears more resem-
blance to the song of the English
Sky-lark than to that of the Canary^
to which Mr. Audubon compares it.

loB

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET.
Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chic

THE MOURNING DOVE.

THE DOVE AND THE STRANGER.
Slrang-er — Why mouruing there so sad, thou gentle dove?
Dove— . I mourn, unceasing mourn, my vanished love.
Stranger — What, has thy love then fled, or faithless proved ?
Dove — Ah no ! the sportsman wounded him I loved !
Stranger — Unhappy one ! beware ! that sportman's nigh !
Dove — Oh, let him come— or else of grief I die. — From the Russian.

(5 HROUGHOUT the State of
Illinois and adjacent states
this bird of sad refrain is a
permanent resident, though
less numerous and of uncertain oc-
currence in winter. In the spring of
1883, all the specimens seen at Wheat-
land, Indiana, had the ends of the
toes frozen off, showing that they had
braved the almost unprecedented cold
of the preceding winter. They have
been known to winter as far north as
Canada, and in December considerable
numbers have been seen about Wind-
sor, Ontario.

The female is a little smaller than
the male, and the young are duller
and more brownish in color. In many
places the Mourning Dove becomes
half domesticated, nesting in the trees
in the yard, showing but little fear
when approached. WHiile the Turtle
Dove keeps the deepest woodland
solitudes, and rarely seeks the fields
and open places, this Dove is as often
seen out of the woods as in them, for
the greater part of the year at least ;
and, though a wary bird, it is not
what we can call a shy one.

The love note of the Mourning
Dove, though somewhat monotonous,
"sounds particularly soothing and
pleasant as we wander through the
otherwise almost silent woods, just as
they are about to don their leafy
vestures, under the gentle influence of
an April sun." If the birds be abun-
dant, their low and plaintive note,
C 00-00-00, coo-00-00, fills the entire forest
with its murmur. Gentle, indeed, as
the Dove is thought to be, still this
does not hold good in the mating sea-
son, for two male birds will often fight
with fury for the possession of a
female. These encounters, however,

are only between young or single
birds.

If unmolested, these birds will nest
in one certain locality for years. Mrs.
Wright says the female is a most
prettily shiftless house-wife. "Even
though her mate should decline to
furnish her with more liberal supply
of sticks, she could arrange those she
has to better advantage; but she evi-
dently lacks that indispensable some-
thing, called faculty, which must be
inborn. The eggs or bodies of the
}'oung show plainly through the rude
platform and bid fair to either fall
through it or roll out, but they seldom
do. Meanwhile she coos regretfully,
but does not see her way to bettering
things, saying 'I know I'm a poor
house-keeper, but it runs in our family;'
but when the Dove chooses a flattened
out Robin's nest for a platform, the
nestlings fare very well."

The Dove's food is confined mainly
to vegetable matter, peas, beans,
lintels, grains, and small seeds of
various kinds. They frequent newly
sown land and feed upon the seed
grain; they search under the oak trees
for acorns, and under beech trees for
mast, sometimes feeding in the
branches; in autumn the stubble field
is a favorite feeding spot, where they
pick up the scattered grain, and eat
the tender heart shoots of the clover,
and, Dixon says, they feed upon the
growing turnip plants, and in keen
weather when the snow lies deep they
will make a meal on the turnips them-
selves. In their favor, however, is
the fact that in the crops of these
Doves are often found the seeds of
weeds, as the charlock and

noxious
dock.

THE MOURNING DOVE.

Dear Young Bird Lovers :

Most every person thinks that,
wliile my actions are very pretty
and attractive, and speak much
m my favor, I can only really
say, Coo-o^ Coo-o, which they also
think does not mean anything at
all. AVell, I just thought I
would undeceive them by writ-
ing you a letter. Many grown
up people fancy that we birds
cannot express ourselves be-
cause we don't know very much.
Of course, there is a good reason
why they have this poor opinion
of us. They are so busy with
their own private concerns that
they forget that there are little
creatures like ourselves in the
world who, if they would take a
little time to become acquainted
with them, would fill their few
hours of leisure with a sweeter
recreation than they find in
many of their chosen outings.
A great English poet, whose
writings you w^ill read when you
get older, said you should look
through Nature up to Nature's
God. What did he mean? I
think he had us birds in his
mind, for it is through a study
of our habits, more perhaps than
that of the voiceless trees or the
dumb four-footed creatures that
roam the fields, that your hearts
are opened to see and admire
real beauty. AVe birds are the
true teachers of faith, hope, and

charity, — faith, because we trust
one another; hope, because,
even when our mother Nature
seems unkind, sending the drift-
ing snow and the bitter blasts
of winter, we sing a song of
summer time; and charity, be-
cause we are never fault finders.

I believe, -without knowing it,
I have been telling you about
myself and my mate. We
Doves are very sincere, and
every one says we are constant.

If you live in the country,
children, you must often hear
our voices. AVe are so tender
and fond of each other that we
are looked upon as models for
children, and even grown-up
folks. My mate does not build
a very nice nest — only uses a
few sticks to keep the eggs from
falling out — but she is a good
mother and nurses the little
ones very tenderly. Some peo-
ple are so kind that they build
for us a dove cote, supply us
with wheat and corn, and make
our lives as free from care and
danger as they can. Come and
see us some day, and then you
can tell whether my picture is a
good one. The artist thinks it
is and he certainly took lots of
pains with it.

Now, if you will be kind to
all birds, you will find me, in
name only,

Mourning Dove.

HOW THE BIRDS SECURED THEIR RIGHTS.

Deuteronomy xxxii 6-7. — "If a bird's nest chance to be before thee in the way, in any tree, or on the ground,
young cues or eggs, and the dam sitting upon the young, or upon the eggs, thou shalt not take the dam with the
young. But thou shalt in anywise let the dam go, that it may be well with thee, and that thou may prolong thy
days."

QJ.

(TY'T is said that the following peti-
tion was instrumental in secur-
ing the adoption in Massachu-
setts of a law prohibiting the
wearing of song and insectivor-
ous birds on women's hats. It is
stated that the interesting document
was prepared by United States Senator
Hoar. The foregoing verse of Scrip-
ture might have been quoted by the
petitioning birds to strengthen their
position before the lawmakers:

"To THE Great and General
Court of the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts : We, the song birds
of Massachusetts and their playfellows,
make this our humble petition. We
know more about you than you think
we do. We know how good you are.
We have hopped about the roofs and
looked in at the windows of the houses
you have built for poor and sick and
hungry people, and little lame and
deaf and blind children. We have
built our nests in the trees and sung
many a song as we flew about the
gardens and parks you have made so
beautiful for your children, especially
your poor children, to play in. Every
year we fly a great way over the
country, keeping all the time where
the sun is bright and warm. And we
know that whenever you do anything
the other people all over this great
land between the seas and the great
lakes find it out, and pretty soon will
try to do the same. We know. We
know.

"We are Americans just the same as
you are. Some of us, like some of
you, came across the great sea. But
most of the birds like us have lived
here a long while; and the birds like
us welcomed your fathers when they
came here many, many years ago. Our

fathers and mothers have always done
their best to please your fathers and
mothers.

"Now we have a sad story to tell
you. Thoughtless or bad. people are
trying to destroy us. They kill us
because our feathers are beautiful.
Even pretty and sweet girls, who we
should think would be our best friends,
kill our brothers and children so that
they may wear our plumage on their
hats. Sometimes people kill us for
mere wantonness. Cruel boys destroy
our nests and steal our eggs and our
young ones. People with guns and
snares lie in wait to kill us; as if the
place for a bird were not in the sky,
alive, but in a shop window or in a
glass case. If this goes on much
longer all our song birds will be gone.
Already we are told in some other
countries that used to be full of birds
they are now almost gone. Even the
Nightingales are being killed in Italy.

"Now we humbly pray that you
will stop all this and will save us from
this sad fate. You have already made
a law that no one shall kill a harm-
less song bird or destroy our nests or
our eggs. Will you please make an-
other one that no one shall wear our
feathers, so that no one shall kill us to
get them? We want them all our-
selves. Your pretty girls are pretty-
enough without them. We are told
that it is as easy for you to do it as for
a blackbird to whistle.

"If you will, we know how to pay
you a hundred times over. We will
teach your children to keep them-
selves clean and neat. We will show
them how to live together in peace
and love and to agree as we do in our
nests. We will build pretty houses
which vou will like to see. We will

play about your garden and flowerbeds
— ourselves like flowers on wings —
without any cost to you. We will
destroy the wicked insects and worms
that spoil your cherries and currants
and plums and apples and roses. We
will give you our best songs, and make
the spring more beautiful and the
summer sweeter to you. Every June
morning when you go out into the
field, Oriole and Bluebird and Black-
bird and Bobolink will fly after you,
and make the day more delightful to
you. And when you go home tired after
sundown Vesper Sparrow will tell you
how grateful we are. When you sit
down on your porch after dark, Fifebird
and Hermit Thrush and Wood Thrush
will sing to you; and even WHiip-poor-
will wall cheer you up a little. We

know where we are .safe. In a little
while all the birds will come to live
in Ma.ssachusetts again, and everbody
who loves music will like to make a
summer home with you."
The sinoers are :

Brown Thrasher,
Robert o'Lincoln,
Vesper Sparrow,
Hermit Thrush,
Robin Redbreast.
Song Sparrow,
Scarlet Tanager,
Summer Redbird,
Blue Heron,
Humming Bird,
Yellow Bird,
Whip-poor-will,
Water Wagtail,
Woodpecker,
Pigeon Woodpecker,
Indigo Bird,
Yellow Throat,
Wilson's Thrush,
Chickadee.

King Bird,

Swallow.

Cedar Bird,

Cow Bird,

Martin,

Veery,

Vireo,

Oriole,

Blackbird,

Fife Bird,

Wren,

Linnet,

Pewee,

Phoebe,

Yoke Bird,

Lark,

Sandpiper,

Chewink.

THE CAPTIVE'S ESCAPE.

I saw such a sorrowful sight, my dears,

Such a sad and sorrowful sight.
As I lingered under the swaying vines,

In the silvery morning light.
The skies were so blue and the day was so fair

With beautiful things untold.
You would think no sad and sorrowful thing

Could enter its heart of gold.

A fairy-like cage was hanging there.

So gay with turret and dome.
You'd be sure a birdie would gladly make

Such a beautiful place its home.
But a wee little yellow-bird .sadly chirped

As it fluttered to and fro ;
I know it was longing with all its heart

To its wild-wood home to go.

I heard a whir of swift-rushing wings.

And an answering gladsome note;
As close to its nestlings prison bars,

I saw the poor mother bird float.
I saw her flutter and strive in vain

To open the prison door.
Then sadly cling with drooping wing

As if all her hopes were o'er.

But ere I could reach the prison house

And let its sweet captive free,
She was gone like a yellow flash of light.

To her home in a distant tree.
"Poor birdie," I thought, "you shall surely go,

When mamma comes back again ;"
For it hurt me so that so small a thing

Should suffer ,so much of pain.

And back in a moment she came again

And close to her darling's side
With a bitter-sweet drop of honey dew.

Which she dropped in its mouth so wide.
Then away, with a strange wild mournful note

Of sorrow, which seemed to say
"Goodbye, my darling, my birdie dear,

Goodbye tor many a day."

A quick wild flutter of tiny wings,

A faint low chirp of pain,
A throb of the little aching heart

And birdie was free again.
Oh sorrowful anguished mother-heart,

'Twas all that she could do,
She had .set it free from a captive's life

In the only way she knew.

Poor little birdie! it never will fly

On tiny and tireless wing.
Through the pearly blue of the summer sky.

Or sing the sweet songs of spring.
And I think, little dears, if you had seen

The .same sad sorrowful sight,
You never would cage a free wild bird

To suffer a captive's plight.

— Mary Morrison.

ii6

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

WHITE-BREASTED NUT HATCH.
Life-Fize-

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicai

THE WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH.

[EARLY every one readily
recognizes this species as it
runs up and down and
around the branches
and trunks of trees in
search of insect food, now and then
uttering its curious Qumik, qiiauk,qnajik.
The White-breasted Nuthatch is often
improperly called "Sapsucker," a
name commonly applied to the Downy
Woodpecker and others. It is a com-
mon! breeding bird and usually begins
nesting early in April, and two broods
are frequently reared in a season. For
its nesting place it usually selects the
decayed trunk of a tree or stub, rang-
ing all the way from two to sixty feet
above the ground. The entrance may
be a knot hole, a small opening, or a
small round hole with a larger cavity
at the end of it. Often the old exca-
vation of the Downy Woodpecker is
made use of. Chicken feathers, hair,
and a few dry leaves loosely thrown
together compose the nest.

This Nuthatch is abundant through-
out the State of Illinois, and is a
permanent resident everywhere except
perhaps of the extreme northern
counties. It seems to migrate in
spring and return in autumn, but, in
reality, as is well known, only retreats
to the woodlands to breed, emerging
again when the food supply grows
scant in the autumn.

The Nuthatches associate familiarly
with the Kinglets and Titmice, and
often travel with them. Though
regarded as shy birds they are not
really so. Their habits of restlessness
render them difficult of examination.
"Tree-mice" is the local name given
them by the farmers, and would be
very appropriate could they sometimes
remain as motionless as that diminu-
tive animal.

Careful observation has disclosed
that the Nuthatches do not suck the
sap from trees, but that they knock
off bits of decayed or loose bark with

the beak to obtain the grubs or larvae
beneath. They are beneficial to vege-
tation. Ignorance is responsible for
the misapplied names given to many
of our well disposed and useful birds,
and it would be well if teachers were
to discourage the use of inappropriate
names and familiarize the children
with those recognized by the best
authorities.

Referring to the Nuthatches Mr.
Basket says: "They are little bluish
gray birds, with white undervests —
sometimes a little soiled. Their tails
are ridiculously short, and never touch
the tree; neither does the body, unless
they are suddenly affrighted, when
they crouch and look, watli their beaks
extended, much like a knot with a
broken twig on it. I have sometimes
put the bird into this attitude by
clapping my hands loudly near the
window. It is an impulse that seems
to come to the bird before flight,
especially if the head should be down-
ward. His arrival is sudden, and
seems often to be distinguished by
turning a somersault before alighting,
head downward, on the tree trunk, as
if he had changed his mind so sud-
denly about alighting that it un-
balanced him.

I once saw two Nuthatches at what
I then supposed was a new habit. One
spring day some gnats were engaged
in their little crazy love waltzes in the
air, forming small whirling clouds,
and the birds left off bark-probing and
began capturing insects on the wing.
They were awkward about it with
their short wings, and had to alight
frequently to rest. I went out to
them, and so absorbed were they that
they allowed me to approach within
a yard of a limb that I came to rest
upon, where they would sit and
pant till they caught their breath,
when they went at it again. They
seemed fairly to revel in a new diet
and a new exercise."

ti9

SUMMARY

Page 83.

YELLOW WARBLER.— Dgndroira a-sitra.
Other rames: "Summer Yellow-bird," "Wild
Canary , " " Yellow-poll Warbler. ' '

Range — The whole of North America ; breed-
ing throughout its range. In winter, the whole
of middle America and northern South Amer-
ica.

Nest — Built in an apple tree, cup-shaped, j
neat and compact, composed of plant fibres,
bark, etc.

Eggs — Four or five ; greenish-white, spotted
Page 88.

HERMIT THRUSH.— Turd us aonalaschkcr
pallasii. Other names: "Swamp Angel,"
" Ground Swamp Robin."

Range — Eastern North America, breeding
from northern United States northward ; win-
tering from about latitude 40° to the Gulf coast.

Nest — On the ground, in some low, secluded
spot, beneath shelter of deep shrubbery. Bulky
and loosely made of leaves, bark, grasses,
mosses, lined with similar finer material.

Eggs — Three or four; of greenish blue,

unspotted.

Page 91.

SONG SPARROW.— Melospizajasciaia.

Range — Eastern United States and British
Provinces, west to the Plains, breeding chiefly
north of 40°, except east of the Alleghenies.

Nest — On the ground, or in low bushes, of
grasses, weeds, and leaves, lined with fine grass
stems, roots, and, in some cases, hair.

Eggs — Four to seven ; varying in color from
greenish or pinki.sh white to light bluish green,
spotted with dark reddish brown.
Page 95.

YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO. — Coccyzus
americanus. Other names: "Rain Crow,"
"Rain Dove," and " Chow-Chow."

Range — Eastern North America to British
Provinces, west to Great Plains, south in winter.
West Indies and Costa Rica.

Nest — In low tree or bush, of dried sticks,
bark strips and catkins.

Eggs — Two to four; of glaucous green which
fades on exposure to the light.
Page 100. ~

RUBY THROATED HUMMING BIRD.—
Trochihis colubris.

Range — Eastern North America to the Plains
north to the fur countries, and south in winter
to Cuba and Veragua.

T^EST — A circle an inch and a half in dia-
meter, made of fern wool, etc., shingled with

lichens to match the color of the branch on
which it is saddled.

Eggs — Two ; pure white, the size of soup
beans.
Page 10 [.
HOUSE WRS^.— Troglodytes aedon.
Range — Eastern United States and southern
Canada, west to the Mississippi Valley ; winters^
in southern portions.

Nest — Miscellaneous rubbish, .sticks, grasses,
hay, and the like.

Eggs — Usually seven ; white, dotted with
reddish brown.
Page 106.

PHOEBE. — Sayotnis phcebe. Other names :
"Pewit," "Pewee."

Range — Ea.stern North America ; in winter
south to Mexico and Cuba.

Nest — Compactly and neatly made of mud
and vegetable substances, with lining of grass
and feathers.

Eggs — Four or five ; pure white, sometimes
sparsely spotted with reddish brown dots at
larger end.
Page no.

RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. — Regains
calendula.

Range — Entire North America, wintering in
the South and in northern Central America.

Nest — Very rare, only six known ; of hair,
feathers, moss, etc., bulky, globular, and
partly pensile.

Eggs — Five to uine ; dull whitish or pale
puffy, speckled.
Page 113.

MOURNING HOY'S..— Zenai dura macrura.
Other names: "Carolina Dove," "Turtle
Dove."

Range — Whole of temperate North America,
south to Panama and the West Indies.

Nest — Rim of twigs sufiicient to retain the
eggs.

Eggs — Usually two ; white.

Page 118.

WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH.— 5/7^a
carolinensis. Other name: " Sapsucker,"
improperly called.

Range — Eastern United States and British
' Provinces.

Nest— Decayed trunk of tree or stub, from
two to six feet from ground, composed of chicken
feathers, hair, and dry leaves.

Eggs — Five to eight ; white with a roseate
tinge, speckled with reddish brown and a slight
tinge of purple.

BIRDS.

Illustrated by COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

Vol. II.

OCTOBER.

No. 4.

BIRDS IN CAPTIVITY.

QJ.

(TY'T was our intention in this article
to give a number of instances
of a pathetic nature concerning
the sufferings of the various
species of birds which it has
been, and still is, a habit with many
people to keep confined in cages
totally inadequate for any other pur-
pose than that of cruelty. The argu-
ment that man has no moral right to
deprive an innocent creature of liberty
will always be met with indifference
by the majority of people, an^i an
appeal to their intelligence and
humanity will rarely prove effective.
To capture singing birds for any pur-
pose is, in many states, prohibited by
statute. But the law is violated.
Occasionally an example is made of
one or more transgressors, but as a
rule the officers of the law, whose
business it should be to prevent it,
manifest no interest whatever in its exe-
cution. The bird trappers as well
know that it is against the law, but so
long as they are unmolested by the
police, they will continue the whole-
sale trapping. A contemporary recently
said: "It seems strange that this
bird-catching industry should increase
so largely simultaneously with the
founding of the Illinois Audubon
Society. The good that that society
has done in checking the habit of
wearing birds in bonnets, seems to
have been fairly counterbalanced
by the increase in the number of
songsters captured for cage Durposes.

These trappers choose the nesting
season as most favorable for their work,
and every pair of birds they catch
means the loss of an entire family in
the shape of a set of eggs or a nestful
of young left to perish slowly by
starvation."

This is the way the trappers pro-
ceed. They are nearly all Germans.
Bird snaring is a favorite occupation
in Germany and the fondness for the
cruel work was not left behind by the
emigrants. More's the pity. These
fellows fairly swarm with their bird
limes and traps among the suburbs,
having an eye only to the birds of
brightest plumage and sweetest song.
" They use one of the innocents as a
bait to lure the others to a prison."
" Two of the trappers," says one who
watched them, " took their station at
the edge of an open field, skirted by a
growth of willows. Each had two
cage traps. The device was divided
into two parts by wires running
horizontally and parallel to the plane
of the floor. In the lower half of each
cage was a male American Goldfinch.
In the roof of the traps were two little
hinged doors, which turned backward
and upward, leaving an opening.
Inside the upper compartment of the
trap, and accessible through the door-
way in the roof, was a swinging perch.
The traps were placed on stumps
among the growth of thistles and dock
weed, while the trappers hid behind
the trees. The Goldfinches confined

in the lower sections of the traps had
been the victims of the trappers earlier
in the season, and the sight of their
familiar hannts, the sunlight, the
breeze, and the swaying willow
branches, where so often they had
perched and sung, caused them to
flutter about and to utter pathetically
the call note of their days of freedom .
It is upon this yearning for liberty and
its manifestation that the bird trappers
depend to secure more victims. No
sooner does the piping call go forth
from the golden throats of the little
prisoners, than a reply comes from the
thistle tops, far down the field. A
moment more and the traps are sur-
rounded with the black and yellow
beauties. The fact that one of their
own kind is within the curious little
house which confronts them seems to
send all their timidity to the winds
and they fairly fall over one another
in their endeavor to see what it all
means. Finally one finds the door-
way in the roof and drops upon the
perch within. Instantly the doors
close and a Goldfinch is a prisoner."
Lawrence Sterne alone, of senti-
mental writers, has put in adequate
language something of the feeling
that should stir the heart of the
sympathetic, at least, on seeing the
unjust confinement of innocent birds.
The Starling, which is the subject of
his elevated sentiment, will appear in
an early number of Birds. Sterne
had just been soliloquizing somewhat
favorably of the Bastile, when a voice,
which he took to be that of a child,
complained " it could not get out."
" I looked up and down the passage,
and seeing neither man, woman, nor
child, I went out without further
attention. In my return back through
the passage, I heard the same words
repeated twice over, and looking up, I
saw it was a Starling hung in a little
cage. *I can't get out, I can't get
out,' said the Starling. I stood look-

ing at the Bird, and to every person
who came through the passage, it ran
fluttering to the side, towards which
they approached it, with the same
lamentation of its captivity. ' I can't
get out,' said the Starling. ' God help
thee !' said I, ' but I'll let thee out,
cost what it will ;' so I turned about
the cage to get the door. It was
twisted and double-twisted so fast with
wire, there was no getting it open
without pulling the cage to pieces. I
took both hands to it. The bird flew
to the place where I was attempting
its deliverance, and thrusting his head
through the trellis, pressed his breast
against it as if impatient. ' I fear,
poor creature,' said I, ' I can't set thee
at liberty.' ' No,' said the Starling, 'I
can't get out,' ' I can't get out,' said
the Starling. I vow I never had my
affections more tenderly awakened ; or
do I remember an incident in my life
where the dissipated spirits, to which
my reason had been a bubble, were so
suddenly called home. Mechanical as
the notes were, yet so true in tune to
Nature were they chanted, that disguise
thyself as thou wilt, still. Slavery,'
said I, 'still thou art a bitter draught;
and though thousands in all ages have
been made to drink of thee, thou art no
less bitter on that account. No, thou
thrice sweet and gracious goddess
liberty, whose taste is grateful, and ever
will be so, till nature herself shall
change ; no tint of woods can spot thy
snowy mantle.' "

Tlie bird in his cage pursued Sterne
into his room, where he composed his
apostrophe to liberty. It would be
well indeed, if a sentiment could be
aroused which would prohibit
absolutely the caging of birds, as well
as their wanton destruction, and if the
children are taught that " tenderness
which is the charm of youth," another
generation will see it accomplished.

C. C. Marble.

V\'Mn col. IJii. Acad. Sciences.

BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER.

T.Afe-size.

Coiivriglited by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.

THE BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER.

IF the children had had the nam-
ing of birds we venture to say
that it would have been more
appropriately done, and "Black-
burnian," as many other names
of Warblers, would have had no place
in literature. There are about seventy-
five well known Warblers, nearly all
with common names indicating the
most characteristic colors or habits, or
partly descriptive of the bird itself.
The common names of this beautiful
Warbler are Orange-throated Warbler
and Hemlock Warbler. Some one has
suggested that it should be called the
Torch Bird, for " half a dozen ot them
as they flash about in the pines, rais-
ing their wings and jerking their tails,
make the darkest shadows seem break-
ing into little tongues of flame."

The Orange-throat is only migratory
in Illinois, passing through in spring
and fall, its summer home being chiefly
if not wholly, to the northward, while
it passes the winter in Central America
and northern South America. It is
found in New York and in portions of
Massachusetts, frequenting the conif-
erous forests, and building its nest in
bushes or small trees a few feet above
the ground. Dr. C. Hart Merriam
found a pair of these birds nesting in
a grove of large white pines in Lewis
county, New York. In the latter part
of May the female was observed build-
ing, and on the second of June the
nest contained four fresh eggs of the
Warbler and one of the Cow bird.
The nest was saddled on the horizontal
limb about eight feet from the ground
and about ten feet from the trunk.
Nests have been found in pine trees in

Southern Michigan at an elevation of
forty feet. In all cases the nests are
placed high in hemlocks or pines,
which are the bird's favorite resorts.
From all accounts the nests of this
species are elegantly and compactly
made, consisting of a densely woven
mass of spruce twigs, soft vegetable
down, rootlets, and fine shreds of bark.
The lining is often intermixed with
horse hairs and feathers. Four eggs
of greenish-white or very pale bluish-
green, speckled or spotted, have usually
been found in the nests.

The autumnal male Warblers resem-
ble the femaie. They have two white
bands instead of one ; the black stripes
on the side are larger ; under parts
yellowish ; the throat yellowish, pas-
sing into purer yellow behind. Few
of our birds are more beautiful than
the full plumaged male of this lovely
bird, whose glowing orange throat
renders it a conspicuous object among
the budding and blossoming branches
of the hemlocks. Chapman says, com-
ing in May, before the woods are fully
clad, he seems like some bright plum-
aged tropical bird who has lost his
way and wandered to northern climes.
The summer is passed among the
higher branches in coniferous forests,
and in the early fall the bird returns
to surroundings which seem more in
keeping with its attire.

Mr. Minot describes the Blackburn-
ian Warbler's summer song as resemb-
ling the sylables wee-see-wee-see^ while
in the spring its notes may be likened
to luee-see-wec-see^ tseejseejsee, repeated,
the latter sylables being on ascending
scale, the very last shrill and fine.

125

THE LOST MATE.

Shine ! Shine ! Shine !

Pour down your warmth, great Sun !

While we bask — we two together.

Two together !

Winds blow south, or winds blow north.

Day come white, or night come black.

Home, or rivers and mountains from home,

Singing all time, minding no time.

If we two but keep together.

Till of a sudden,

May be killed, unknown to her mate,

One forenoon the she-bird crouched not on the nest,

Nor returned that afternoon, nor the next.

Nor ever appeared again.

And thence forward, all summer, in the sound of the sea.

And at night, under the full of moon, in calmer weather,

Over the hoarse surging of the sea.

Or flitting from briar to briar by day,

I saw, I heard at intervals, the remaining one.

Blow ! blow ! blow !

Blow up, sea-winds, along Paumanok's shore !

I wait and I wait, till you blow my mate to me.

— Walt Whitman.

126

'^iiemt ^f-

From col. F. M. Woodruff

Copyrigliti-a l,y
Nature Study Pub. Co., isy?, Cbic

THE AMERICAN GOLDFINCH.

"Look, Mamma, look ! " cried
a little boy, as one day late in
June my mate and I alighted on
a thistle already going to seed.
" Such a lovely bird ! How
jolly he looks, with that black
velvet hat drawn over his eyes!"

" That's a Goldfinch," replied
his mamma; '^ sometimes called
the Jolly Bird, the Thistle Bird,
the Wild Canary, and the Yellow
Bird. He belongs to the family
of \Yeed Warriors, and is very
useful."

"He sings like a Canary,"
said Bobbie. " Just hear him
talking to that little brown bird
alongside of him."

That was my mate, you see,
who is rather plain looking, so
to please him I sang my best
song, " Per-cMc-o-ree^ per-ckic-o-
ree^

" That sounds a great deal
better," said Bobbie ; " because
it's not sung by a little prisoner
behind cage bars, I guess."

" It certainly is wilder and
more joyous," said his mamma.
" He is very happy just now, for
he and his mate are preparing
for housekeeping. Later on, he
will shed his lemon-yellow coat,
and then you won't be able to
tell him from his mate and little
ones."

"How they are gobbling up
that thistle-down," cried Bobbie.
"Just look!"

" Yes," said his mamma, " the
fluff carries the seed, like a
sail to which the seed is
fastened. By eating the seed,
which otherwise would be car-
ried by the wind all over the
place, these birds do a great
amount of good. The down
they will use to line their
nests.

" How I should like to peep
into their nest," said Bobbie ;
"just to peep, you know; not to
rob it of its eggs, as boys do
who are not well brought up."

My mate and I were so pleased
at that, we flew off a little way,
chirping and chattering as we
went.

" L^p and down, up and down,"
said Bobbie; "how prettily they

fly."

" Yes," said his mamma; "that
is the way you can always tell a
Goldfinch when in the air. A
dip and a jerk, singing as he
flies."

" AYhat other seeds do they
eat, mamma?" presently asked
Bobbie.

"The seeds of the dandelion,
the sunflower, and wild grasses
generally. In the winter, when
these are not to be had, the poor
little fellows have a very hard
time. People with kind hearts,
scatter canary seed over their
lawns to the merry birds for their
summer songs, and for keeping
down the weeds.

129

THE GOLDFINCH.

CCORDIXG to one intelligent
observer, the Finches are, in
Nature's economy, entrusted
with the task of keeping
the weeds in subjection,
and the gay and elegant little Gold-
finch is probably one of the most use-
ful, for its food is found to consist, for
the greater part, of seeds most hurtful
to the works of man. " The charlock
that so often chokes his cereal crops is
partly kept in bounds by his vigilance,
and the dock, whose rank vegetation
would, if allowed to cast all its seeds,
spread barrenness around, is also one of
his store houses, and the rank grasses,
at their seeding time, are his chief
support." Another writer, whose
study of this bird has been made with
care, calls our American Goldfinch one
of the loveliest of birds. With his
elegant plumage, his rythmical, un-
dulatory flight, his beautiful song, and
his more beautiful soul, he ought to be
one of the best beloved, if not one of
the most famous ; but he has never yet
had half his deserts. He is like the
Chickadee, and yet different. He is not
so extremely confiding, nor should I call
him merry. But he is always cheerful,
in spite of his so-called plaintive
note, from which he gets one of his
names, and always amiable. So far as
I know, he never utters a harsh sound;
even the young ones asking for food,
use only smooth, musical tones. Dur-
the pairing season, his delight often
becomes rapturous. To see him then,
hovering and singing, — or, better still,
to see the devoted pair hovering
together, billing and singing, — is
enough to do even a cynic good. The
happy lovers ! They have never read
it in a book, but it is written on their
hearts.

" The gentle law that each should be
The other's heaveii and harmony."

In building his nest, the Goldfinch
uses much ingenuity, lichens and moss
being woven so deeply into the walls
that the whole surface is quite smooth.
Instead of choosing the forks of a
bough, this Finch likes to make its
nest near the end of a horizontal
branch, so that it moves about and
dances up and down as the branch is
swayed by the wind. It might be
thought that the eggs would be shaken
out by a tolerably sharp breeze, and
such would indeed be the case, were
they not kept in their place by the
form of the nest. On examination, it
will be seen to have the edge thickened
and slightly turned inward, so that
when the nest is tilted on one side by
the swaying of the bough, the eggs
are still retained within. It is lined
with vegetable down, and on this soft
bed repose five pretty eggs, white,
tinged with blue, and diversified with
small grayish purple spots.

A curious story is told of a caged
Goldfinch, which in pleasant weather
always hung in a window. One day,
hearing strange bird voices, the owner
looked up from her seat and saw a
Catbird trying to induce the Finch to
eat a worm it had brought for it. By
dint of coaxing and feeding the wild
bird, she finally induced it to come
often to the window, and one day,
as she sat on the porch, the Cat-
bird brought a berry and tried to
put it into her mouth. We have often
seen sparrows come to the window of
rooms where canaries were imprisoned,
but it has uniformly been to get food
and not to administer it. The Catbird
certainly thus expressed its gratitude.

130

'■^^

rom col. Eugene Bliss.

CHIMNEY SWIFT.
?< Life-size.

Copyrighted by _
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.

THE CHIMNEY SWIFT.

^HIEF POKAGON, of the
Pottawattamie Indians, in
an article in Tlie Osprey,
writes delightfully of the
Chimney Swift, and we
quote a portion of it describing a
peculiar habit of the bird. The chief
was a youth when he made the observa-
tion, and he writes in the second
person :

"As you look, you see the head of
the young chief is turning slowly
around, watching something high in
air above the stream ; you now begin
to look in the same direction, catching
glimpses every now and then, of the
segment of a wild revolving ring of
small unnumbered birds circling high
above the trees. Their twittering
notes and whizzing wings create a
musical, but wild, continued roar.
You now begin to realize he is
determined to understand all about
the feathered bees, as large as little
birds, the village boy had seen. The
circle continues to decrease in size,
but increases the revolution until all
the living, breathing ring swings over
the stream in the field of your vision,
and you begin to enquire what means
all this mighty ingathering of such
multitude of birds. The young chief
in admiration claps his hands, leaping
towards the stream. The twittering,
whizzing roar continues to increase ;
the revolving circle fast assumes a
funnel shape, moving downward until
the point reaches the hollow in the
stub, pouring its living mass therein
until the last bird dropped out of
sight. Rejoicing in wonder and admir-
ation, the youth walks round the base
of the stub, listening to the rumbling
roar of fluttering wings within. Night
comes on, he wraps his blanket closer
about him, and lies down to rest until
the coming day, that he may witness
the swarming multitudes pass out in
early morning. But not until the

hour of midnight does he fall asleep,
nor does he wake until the dawn of
day, when, rising to his feet, he looks
upward to the skies. One by one the
stars disappear. The moon grows pale.
He listens. Last night's familiar roar
rings in his ears. He now beholds
swarming from out the stub the
living, breathing mass, forming in
funnel shape, revolving like a top,
rising high in air, then sweeping out-
ward into a wide expanding ring, until
the myriads of birds are scattered
wide, like leaves before the whirl-
wind."

And then what do they do ? Open
the mouth of a swallow that has been
flying, and turn out the mass of small
flies and other insects that have been
collected there. The number packed
into its mouth is ahnost incredible,
for when relieved from the constant
pressure to which it is subjected, the
black heap begins to swell and en-
large, until it attains nearly double
its former size.

Chimney Swallow is the name
usually applied to this Swift. The
habit of frequenting chimneys is a
recent one, and the substitution of
this modern artificial home for hollow
trees illustrates the readiness with
which it adapts itself to a change in
surroundings. In perching, they
cling to the side of the chimney, using
the spine-pointed tails for a support.
They are most active early in the
morning and late in the afternoon,
when one may hear their rolling
twitter as they course about over-
head.

The question whether Chimney
Swifts break off twigs for their nests
with their feet is now being discussed
by ornithologists. Many curious and
interesting observations have been
made, and the momentous question
will no doubt in time be placed be-
yond peradventure.

133

THE LARK.

Up with me ! up with me into the clouds !

For thy song, Lark, is strong ;
Up with me ! Up with me into the clouds !

Singing, singing,
With clouds and sky about thee ringing.

Lift me, guide me till I find
That spot which seems so to thy mind.

I have walked through wildernesses dreary.

And to-day my heart is weary;
Had I now the wings of a Fairy

Up to thee would I fly.
There is madness about thee, and joy divine

In that song of thine ;
Lift me, guide me high and high
To thy banqueting place in the sky.

— Wordsworth.

SHORE LARK.

Cj^Y'F the variety of names by which
this Lark is known is any indica-
tion of its popularity, its friends
(i) I must be indeed numerous.
Snow Lark, Snowbird, Prairie
Lark, Sky Lark, American Sky Lark,
Horned Lark, are a few of them.
There is only one American Species, so
far as known. It breeds in northeastern
North America and Greenland, winter-
ing in the United States. It also in-
habits northern portions of the old world.
The common name is derived from the
tufts of black feathers over each ear,
which the birds have the power of erect-
ing at will like the so-called horns of
some owls.

In the Eastern States, during the
winter months, flocks of Horned Larks,
varying in size from a dozen to those
of a hundred or more, may be seen
frequenting open plains, old fields, dry
shores of bays, and the banks of rivers.
According to Davie, as there are a
number of geographical varieties of the
Horned Lark, the greatest uncertainty
has always attended their identification
even by experts, and the breeding and

winter ranges of the various sub-
species do not yet seem to be clearly
defined.

Audubon found this species on the
low, mossy and sheltered hills along
the dreary coast of Labrador. In the
midst of the mosses and lichens that
covered the rocks the bird imbedded its
nest, composed of fine grasses, arranged
in a circular form and lined with the
feathers of grouse and other birds.

Chapman says these Larks take
wing with a sharp, whistled note, and
seek fresh fields or, hesitating, finally
swing about and return to near the
spot from which they were flushed.
They are sometimes found associated
with Snowflakes. The pinkish grey
coloring is very beautiful, but in the
Middle and Eastern States this bird is
rarely seen in his spring garb, says an
observer, and his winter plumage lacks
the vivid contrasts and prime color.

As a singer the Shore Lark is not to
be despised, especially in his nesting
haunts. He has a habit of singing as
he soars in the air, after the manner
of the European Skylark.

J 34

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

HORNED LARK.
■» 5 Life-size.

Ciipvriglited by
Nature Study V'ub. Co., 1897. Chicago.

THE YELOW-BELLIED SAPSUCKER.

When the veins of the birch overflow in the spring,
Then I sharpen my bill and make the woods ring,
Till forth gushes — rewarding my tap, tap, tap !
The food of us Suckers — the rich, juicy sap.

— C. C. M.

,ANY wild birds run up
and down trees, and it
seems to make little dif-
ference which end up
they are temporarily,
skirmishing ever to the right and left,
whacking the bark with their bills,
then quiet a brief moment, and again
skirmishing around the tree. Some-
times an apple tree, says a recent
writer, will have a perfect circle, not
seldom several rings or holes round
the tree — holes as large as a buck
shot. The little skirmisher makes
these holes, and the farmer calls it a
Sapsucker. And such it is. Dr.
Coues, however, says it is not a bird,
handsome as it is, that you would care
to have come in great numbers to your
garden or orchard, for he eats the sap
that leaks out through the holes he
makes in the trees. When a great
many holes have been bored near
together, the bark loosens and peels
off, so that the tree is likely to die.
The Sapsucker also eats the soft inner
bark which is between the rough out-
side bark and the hard heart-wood of
the tree, which is very harmful.
Nevertheless the bird does much good
in destroying insects which gather to
feed on the oozing sap. It sweeps
them up in its tongue, which is not
barbed, like that of other woodpeckers,
but has a little brush on the end of it.
It lacks the long, extensile tongue
which enables the other species to
probe the winding galleries of wood-
eating larv^se.

Mr. William Brewster states that
throughout the White Mountains of
New Hampshire, and in most sections
of Northern Maine, the Yellow-Bellied
Woodpeckers outnumber all the other

species in the summer season. Their
favorite nesting sites are large dead
birches, and a decided preference is
manifested for the vicinity of water,
though some nests occur in the in-
terior of woods. The average height
of the nesting hole from the ground is
about forty feet. Many of the nests
are gourd-like in shape, with the ends
very smoothly and evenly chiseled,
the average depth being about four-
teen inches. The labors of excavating
the nest and those of rearing the
young are shared by both sexes.
While this Sapsucker is a winter resi-
dent in most portions of Illinois, and
may breed sparingly in the extreme
northern portion, no record of it has
been found.

A walk in one of our extensive
parks is nearly always rewarded by
the sight of one or more of these
interesting and attractive birds. They
are usually so industriously engaged
that they seem to give little attention
to your presence, and hunt away,
tapping the bole of the tree, until
called elsewhere by some more promis-
ing field of operations. Before taking
flight from one tree to another, they
stop the insect search and ^aze in-
quisitively toward their destination.
If two of them meet, there is often a
sudden stopping in the air, a twisting
upward and downward, followed by a
lively chase across the open to the top
of a dead tree, and then a sly peeping
round or over a linlb, after the man-
ner of all Woodpeckers. A rapid
drumming with the bill on the tree,
branch or trunk, it is said, serves for a
love-song, and it has a screaming call
note.

137

TPiE WARBLING VIREO.

HE Vireos are a family of
singers and are more often
heard than seen, but the
Warbler has a much more
musical voice, and of greater compass
than any other member of the family.
The song ripples like a brook, float-
ing down from the leafiest tree-tops. It
is not much to look at, being quite
plainly dressed in contrast with the
red-eyed cousin, the largest of the
Vireos. In nesting time it prefers
seclusion, though in the spring and
mid-sunnner, when the little ones have
flown, and nesting cares have ceased, it
frequents the garden, singing in the
elms and birches, and other tall trees.
It rambles as well through the foliage
of trees in open woodland, in parks,
and in those along the banks of
streams, where it diligently searches
the under side of leaves and branches
for insect life, "in that near-sighted
way peculiar to the tribe." It is a
very stoic among birds, and seems
never surprised ai anything, " even at
the loud report of a gun, with the shot
rattling about it in the branches, and,
if uninjured, it will stand for a moment
unconcerned, or move along, peering
on every side amongst the foliao-e,
warbling its tender, liquid strains. "

The nest of this species is like that
of the Red-eyed Vireo — a strong,

durable, basket-like fabric, made of
bark strips, lined with fine grasses.
It is suspended by the brim in slender,
horizontal forks of branches, at a great
height from the ground.

The Vireo is especially numerous
among the elms of Boston Common,
where at almost any hour of the day,
from early in the month of May, until
long after summer has gone, may be
heard the prolonged notes of the
Warbling species, which was an
especial favorite of Dr. Thomas M.
Brewer, author of " History of North
American Birds." Its voice is not
powerful, but its melody, it is said, is
flute-like and tender, and its song is
perhaps characterized more by its air
of happy contentment, than by any
other special quality. No writer on
birds has grown enthusiastic on the
subject, and Bradford Torrey alone
among them does it scant justice,
when he says this Vireo " is admirably
named ; there is no one of our
birds that can more properly be said
to warble. He keeps further from the
ground than the others, and shows a
strong preference for the elms of
village streets, out of which his
delicious music drops upon the ears of
all passers underneath. How many of
them hear it and thank the singer, is
unhappily another question."

138

hrui.i ,',l 1 . ,M W.

YELLOW-BELLIED SAPSUCKER.
5 5 Life-size.

Copvri^'Iileci in
Nature Study Pub. Co., I»a7, Chicago.

From col. F. M. W

VS'ARBLING VIREO.
Life-size.

Copvriglited by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.

THE SAPSUCKER.

My Dear Young Friends :

During the long summer days,
when you were enjoying golden
vacation hours, I often took a
peep at you from some dead tree
limb or the side of a hemlock or
beech. You saw me, perhaps,
and were surprised at my
courage ; for other small birds
whose voices you heard, but
whose tiny bodies escaped your
young eyes, appeared very timid
in comparison.

But I am not so brave, after
all, and know full well when my
red hat is in danger. I am a
good flyer, too, and can soon put
a wide space between myself
and certain wicked boys, who, I
hope, by next vacation time will
have learned so much about us
that they will love every little
feathered creature, and not seek
to do them any harm.

Can you guess why I have
such a queer name? I really
ought to be popular in Illinois,
for they tell me it is called the
Sucker State, and that the peo-
ple are proud of it. Well, I am
called Sapsucker because much,
if not most, of my food consists
of the secret juices which flow
through the entire body of the
tree which you probably saw
me running up and down and

around. But you saw me, you
say, very often on dead branches
of trees, and surely they had no
sap in them? No, but if you
will look closely into my actions,
you will see that I destroy many
insects which drill their way
into the wood and deposit their
eggs. In my opinion, I do far
more good than harm, though
you will find some people who
think otherwise.

Then, again, if there is utility
in beauty, surely I am a benefit
to every one. One day I heard
a lady say that she never saw
my head pop up from behind an
old stump without bui'sting into
laughter, I looked so funny.
Now I took that as a compli-
ment ; for to give pleasure to
those around us, I have heard,
is one of our highest duties.

Next summer when you seek
the pleasant places where I
dwell, — in the old deadening
where the trees wear girdles
around them ; in the open groves,
where I flit from tree to tree; in
the deep wooded districts,
whence one hears the tinkling
ripple of running waters, you
may, if good and gentle, see pop
up behind a stump the red hat of

Sapsucker.

:4s

THE WOOD PEWEE.

The listening Dryads hushed the woods ;

The boughs were thick, and thin and few

The golden ribbons fluttering through ;
Their sun-embroidered leafy hoods

The lindens lifted to the blue ;
Only a little forest-brook
The farthest hem of silence shook ;
When in the hollow shades I heard —
Was it a spirit or a bird ?
Or, strayed from Eden, desolate,
Some Peri calling to her mate,
Whom nevermore her mate would cheer?

"Pe-ri! Pe-ri ! Peer! "
********
To trace it in its green retreat

I sought among the boughs in vain ;

And followed still the wandering strain
So melancholy and so sweet,

The dim-eyed violets yearned with pain.
********
Long drawn and clear its closes were —

As if the hand of Music through

The sombre robe of Silence drew
A thread of golden gossamer ;

So pure a flute the fairy blue.
Like beggared princes of the wood,
lu silver rags the birches stood ;
The hemlocks, lordly counselors.
Were dumb ; the sturdy servitors.
In beechen jackets patched and gray,
Seemed waiting spellbound all the day
That low, entrancing note to hear —

" Pe-wee ! Pe-wee ! Peer ! "
********
"Dear bird," I said, "what is thy name? "
And thrice the mournful answer came,
So faint and far, and yet so near,

"Pe-wee! Pe-wee! Peer!"

—J. T. Trowbridge.

144

WOOD PEWEE.
^. 3 Life-size.

CopvngtinU l>.v
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Cliicago.

THE WOOD PEWEE.

I am called the Wood Pewee,
but I don't always stay in the
woods. If you have an orchard
or a nice garden, you will hear
me singing there in June.

People think I am not a happy
bird, because my song seems so
sad. They are very much mis-
taken. I am just as happy as
any other little fellow dressed
in feathers, and can flirt and
flutter with the best of them.

Pewee ! Pewee ! Peer !

That is my song, and my mate
thinks it is beautiful. She is
never far away, and always
comes at my call.

Always, did I say ?

No; one day, when we were
busy building our nest — vv^hich
is very pretty, almost as dainty
as that of our neighbor the
Humming Bird — she flew away
to quite a distance to find some
soft lining-stuff on which to lay
her eggs. I had been fetching
and carrying all day the lichens
to put round the nest, which was
hidden among the thick leaves
on the bough of a tree, and was
resting by the side of it.

Pewee ! Pewee ! Peer !

"She will hear that," thought
I, and again I sang it as loud as
I could.

"Ill bring that fellow down,
too," said a boy, who surely had
never heard anything about our

happy, innocent lives, and as I
peered down at him, he flung a
large stone, which struck the
bough on which I sat. Oh, how
frightened I was, and how
quickly I flew away!

" He has killed my little
mate, I thought. Still, I called
in my plaintive way, Pewee!
Pewee! Peer !^''

A faint, low cry led me to the
foot of a large tree, and there
on the ground lay my mate,
struggling to rise and fly to
me."

" I think my wing is broken,"
she sobbed. " Oh, that wicked,
wicked boy!"

I petted her with my broad,
flat beak, and after a while she
was able to fly with me to our
nest; but it it was days and
days before she was out of pain.
I am sure if that boy sees my
story in Birds, he will never give
such an innocent little creature
misery again.

I dress plainly, in a coat of
olive and brown, and they do
say my manners are stiff and
abrupt.

But my voice is very sweet, and
there is something about it which
makes people say: "Dear little
bird, sad little bird ! what may
your name be?"

Then I answer :

'^ Pewee ! Pewee ! Peer !

147

THE WOOD PEWEE.

LTHOUGH one of the most
abundant species, conjmon
all over the United States,
the retiring habits, plain-
ness of dress, and quiet
manners of this little bird have caused
it to be comparatively little known.
Dr. Brewer says that if noticed at all,
it is generally confounded with the
common Pewee, or Phoebe bird,
though a little observation is sufficient
to show how very distinct they are.
The Wood Pewee will sit almost
motionless for many minutes in an
erect position, on some dead twig or
other prominent perch, patiently
watching for its insect prey. While
its position is apparently so fixed,
however, its eyes are constantly on the
alert, and close watching will show
that the bird now and then turns its
head as its glance follows the course
of some distant insect, while anon the
feathers of the crown are raised, so as
to form a sort of blunt pyramidal
crest. This sentinel-like attitude of
the Wood Pewee is in marked contrast
to the restless motion of the Phoebe,
who, even if perched, keeps its tail
constantly in motion, while the bird
itself seldom remains long in a fixed
position. The notes of the two species
(see August Birds) are as different as
their habits, those of the Wood
Pewee being peculiarly plaintive — a
sort of wailing pc-c-e-e-i^ zvee, the first
syllable emphasized and long drawn
out, and the tone, a clear, plaintive,
wiry whistle, strikingly different from
the "cheerful, emphatic notes of the
true Pewee.

The Wood Pewee, like all of its
family, is an expert catcher of insects,
even the most minute, and has a
remarkably quick perception of their
near presence, even when the light of
day has nearly gone and in the deep
gloom of the thick woods. Dr. Brewer
describes it as taking its station at the
end of a low dead limb, from which

it darts out in quest of insects, some-
times for a single individual, which it
seizes with a sharp snap of its bill;
and, frequently meeting insect after
insect, it keeps up a constant snapping
sound as it passes on, and finally returns
to its post to resume its watch. While
watching it occasionally twitters, with
a quivering movement of the head and
tail, uttering a feeble call-note, sound-
ing like pec-e.

The nest of the Wood Pewee, which
is always "saddled" and securely
attached to a rather stout branch,
usually lichen-covered, is said to be
one of the most elegant examples of
bird architecture. From beneath it
so much resembles a natural portion
of the limb, but for its betrayal by the
owner, it would seldom be discovered.
It is saucer-shaped, with thick walls,
and the whole exterior is a beautiful
'^ mosaic " of green, gray, and glaucous
lichen. The eggs are a rich delicate
cream color, ornamented by a "wreath'*
round the larger end of madder-brown,
purple, and lilac spots.

The Wood Pewee has many ad-
mirers, a more interesting creature to
watch while feeding being hard to
imagine. Often you will find him in
the parks. Sitting in some quiet,
shady spot, if you wait, he will soon
show himself as he darts from the
fence post not far away, to return to it
time after time with, possibly, the
very insect that has been buzzing
about your face and made you
miserable. His movements are so
quick that even the fly cannot elude
him.

And to some he is pleasant as a
companion. One who loves birds
once saw this Flycatcher flying in a
circle and repeating breathlessly his
emphatic chebec. "He sang on the
wing, and I have never heard notes
which seemed more expressive of hap-
piness."

148

THE SNOWFLAKE.

Bobbie didn't want to go to
school that morning, and he look-
ed very cheerfully out upon the
cloudy sky and falling flakes
of snow, pretending to shiver a
little when the angry gusts of
wind blew the snow sharply into
people's faces.

'' I guess it's better for little
boy's like me to stay at home
such weather as this, mamma,"
said he, all the while hoping the
snow would soon be deep enough
for him to ride down the hill
on his sled.

Before his mamma could reply
Bobbie gave a cry of delight
which drew her at once to the
window.

As from the snow clouds, on
bold and rapid wing, came
whirling down an immense flock
of birds, white, streaked with
gray and brown, chirping, calling
to one another, the whole flock
settling upon the open places in
a field in front of Bobbie's house.

''Oh, the dear little things,"
said Bobbie, '' they looked like
little white angels dropping out
of the clouds."

" Those are our winter neigh-
bors," said his mamma, ''the
Snow Buntings or Snowflakes —
they visit us only in winter, their
summer homes being away up
North near the Arctic Circle in
the region of perpetual snow."

" Do they build their nests in
trees ? " asked Bobbie, who never
tired hearing about the birds.

"There are no trees in that
bleak region, only scrubby bush-
es," was the answer. "They
build a thick, deep grassy nest,
well lined with rabbit fur, or Snow
Owl feathers, which they tuck
under a ledge of rock or bunch
of grass."

" They chirrup just like spar-
rows," reflected Bobbie, " can
they sing?"

" They only sing when up in
their Northern home. There a
male Snowflake w^ill sing as
merrily as his cousin the Gold-
finch."

" They look like Sparrows,
too, " said Bobbie, " only whiter
and softer, I think."

" In the summer they are
nearly all white, the brown
edges having worn away, leaving
them pure black and white. They
are very shy and suspicious, and
at the least sound you will see
them all whirl aloft braving the
blasts of winter like little
heroes."

" Well," said Bobbie, after a
while, " if those little soft white
birds can go about in such
weather, I guess I can too," and
in a few minutes with high rub-
ber boots, and a fur cap drawn
over his ears, off trudged Bobbie
like another little hero to school.
151

THE SNOWFLAKE.

(^ HIS charming bird comes to us
. at a time when his presence

J] may be truly welcomed and

—^ appreciated, nearly all our
summer companions of the feathered
tribe having departed. He might not
inappropriately be named the great
Snowflake, though in winter he wears
a warm brown cloak, with black
stripes, brown collar, and a brown and
white vest. In summer, however, he
is snow white, with black on the back,
wings, and tail. He lives all over
northern North America, and in the
United States as far south as Georgia

About the first of November, flocks
of Snowflakes may be seen arriving,
the males chanting a very low and
somewhat broken, but very pleasant
song. Some call him White Snow-
bird, and Snow Bunting, according to
locality. The birds breed throughout
the Arctic regions of both continents,
the National Museum at Washington
possessing nests from the most northern
points of Alaska, (Point Barrow), and
from Labrador, as well as from various
intermediate localities.

These birds are famous seed eaters,
and are rarely found in trees. They
should be looked for on the ground, in
the air, for they are constantly seeking
new feeding grounds, in the barn-yard,
or about the hay stack, where .seeds
are plentiful. They also nest on the
ground, building a deep, grassy nest,
lined with rabbit fur or feathers, under
a projecting ledge of rock or thick
bunch of grass. It seems curious that
few persons readily distinguish them
from their sparrow cousins, as they
have much more white about them
than any other color. Last November

multitudes of them invaded Washing-
ton Park, settling on the ground to
feed, and flying up and scurrying away
to successive pastures of promise.
With their .soft musical voices and
gentle manners, they were a pleasing
feature of the late Autumn landscape.
" Chill November's surly blast " mak-
ing " field and forest bare, " had no
terrors for them, but rather spread
before them a feast of scattered seeds,
winnowed by it from nature's ripened
abundance.

The Snowflakes disappear with the
melting of their namesake, the snow.
They are especially numerous in snowy
seasons, when flocks of sometimes a
thousand are seen in the old fields and
meadows. It is unusual, though it has
been known to breed in the Northern
States. In July, 1831, Audubon
found it nesting in the White Moun-
tains, and Dr. J. A. Allen notes a pair
as breeding near Springfield, Mass.
The Arctic regions are its nesting place
however, and these birds were probably
belated on their return migration.
The Snowflake and Shorelark are so
much alike in habits, that the two
species occasionally associate. Ernest
E. Thompson says : " Apparently
the Snowflakes get but little to eat,
but in reality they always find enough
to keep them in health and spirits,
and are as fat as butter balls.
In the mid-winter, in the far north,
when the thermometer showed thirty
degrees below zero, and the chill
blizzard was blowing on the plains, I
have seen this brave little bird glee-
fully chasing his fellows, and pouring
out, as he flew, his sweet voluble song
with as much spirit as ever Skylark
has in the sunniest davs of June."

152

om col. F. M. Woodruff.

JUNCO.
Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.

THE SLATE-COLORED JUNCO.

LACK SNOWBIRD, in
most of the United States
K^ J and in Ontario, where it
is a common resident,
and White Bill, are names more often
applied to this species of Sparrow than
the one of Junco, by which it is known
to ornithologists. It nests in the
mountains of northern Pennsylvania,
New York, and New England, and is
a resident throughout the year in north-
eastern Ohio, and in Michigan. In all
probability, the Snowbird does not
breed, even occasionally, anywhere
within the limits of the state of
Illinois, though individuals may in
very rare instances be found several
weeks after others have departed for
the north, these having probably
received some injury which prevents
their migration. Prof Forbes refers
to such an instance, which came under
his own observation. He saw on a
tree in the edge of a wood, in
the southern part of the state, an
adult specimen of the Junco, and
only one. which, he says, astonished
him.

Mr. William L. Kells states that in
Ontario this Junco selects a variety of
places for nesting sites, such as the up-
turned roots of trees, crevices in banks,
under the sides of logs and stumps, a
cavity under broken sod, or in the
shelter of grass or other veoetation.
The nest is made of dry grasses, warmly
and smoothly lined with hair. The
bird generally begins to nest the first
week of May, and nests with eggs are
found as late as August. A nest of
the Junco was found on the rafters of
a barn in Connecticut.

Almost any time after the first of
October, little excursion parties of
Juncos may be looked for, and the
custom continues all winter long.
When you become acquainted with
him, as you surely will, during his

visit, you will like him more and more
for his cheerful habits. He will
come to your back door, and pre-
sent his little food petition, very
merrily indeed. He is very friendly
with the Chick-a-dee, and they are
often seen together about in the barn-
yards, and he even ventures within the
barn when seeds are frozen to the
ground,

" The Doctor, " in Citizen Bird, tells
this pretty story of his winter pets :

" My flock of Juncos were de-
termined to brave all weathers. First
they ate the seeds of all the weeds and
tall grasses that reached above the
snow, then they cleaned the honey-
suckles of their watery black berries.
When these were nearly gone, I began
to feed them every day with crumbs,
and they soon grew very tame. At
Christmas an ice storm came, and after
that the cold was bitter indeed. For
two days I did not see my birds; but on
the third day, in the afternoon, when
I was feeding the hens in the barn-
yard, a party of feeble, half-starved
Juncos, hardly able to fly, settled down
around me and began to pick at the
chicken food. I knew at a glance that
after a few hours more exposure all
the poor little birds would be dead. So
I shut up the hens and opened the
door of the straw-barn very wide,
scattered a quantity of meal and cracked
corn in a line on the floor, and crept
behind the door to watch. First one
bird hopped in and tasted the food ; he
found it very good and evidently called
his brothers, for in a minute they all
went in and I closed the door upon
them. And I slept better that night,
because I knew that my birds were
comfortable." The next afternoon
they came back again. " I kept them
at night in this way for several weeks,
arid one afternoon several Snowflakes
came in with them. (See page 150.)

155

THE KINGBIRD.

C^ T is somewhat strange that there
should be little unity of opinion
concerning a bird as well known
<?J I as is this charming fellow, who
has at least one quality which
we all admire — courage. We will
quote a few of the opinions of well-
known observers as to whether his
other characteristics are admirable,
and let the reader form his own con-
clusion.

John Burroughs says of him : "The
exquisite of the family, and the braggart
of the orchard, is the Kingbird, a
bully that loves to strip the feathers
off its more timid neighbors like the
Bluebird, that feeds on the stingless
bees of the hive, the drones, and earns
the reputation of great boldness by
teasing large haw^ks, while it gives a
wide berth to the little ones." De-
cidedly, th's classifies him with the
English Sparrow. But we will hear
Dr. Brewer : " The name. Kingbird,
is given it on the supposition that it
is superior to all other birds in the
reckless courage with which it will
maintain an unequal warfare. My
own observations lead me to the con-
clusion that writers have somewhat
exaggerated the quarrelsome disposi-
tion of this bird. I have never, or
very rarely, known it to molest or
attack any other birds than those
which its own instinct prompts it to
drive away in self-defense, such as
Hawks, Owls, Eagles, Crows, Jays,
Cuckoos, and Crackles." That Dr.
Coues is a friend of the Kingbird, his
language amply proves : " The King-
bird is not quarrelsome — simply very
lively. He is the very picture of dash
and daring in defending his home, and
when he is teaching his youngsters how
to fly. He is one of the best of neigh-
bors, and a brave soldier. An officer
of the guild of Sky Sweepers, also a
Ground Gleaner and Tree Trapper

killing robber -flies, ants, beetles, and
rose-bugs. A good friend to horses
and cattle, because he kills the terrible
gadflies. Eats a little fruit, but chiefly
wild varieties, and only now and then
a bee." If you now have any diffi-
culty in making up your verdict, we
will present the testimony of one
other witness, who is, we think, an
original observer, as well as a delight-
ful writer, Bradford Torrey. He was
in the country. "Almost, I could
have believed myself in Eden," he
says. " But, alas, even the birds
themselves were long since shut out
of that garden of innocence, and as I
started back toward the village a
Crow went hurrying past me, with a
Kingbird in hot pursuit. The latter
was more fortunate than usual, or
more plucky, actually alighting on
the Crow's back, and riding for some
distance. I could not distinguish his
motions — he was too far away for
that — but I wished him joy of his
victory, and grace to improve it to the
full. For it is scandalous that a bird
of the Crow's cloth should be a thief;
and so, although I reckon him among
my friends — in truth, because I do so —
I am always able to take it patiently
when I see him chastised for his
fault."

The Kingbird is a common bird in
Eastern United States, but is rare
west of the Rocky Mountains. It is
perhaps better known by the name of
Beebird or Bee-martin. The nest is
placed in an orchard or garden, or by
the roadside, on a horizontal bough or
in the fork at a moderate height ;
sometimes in the top of the tallest
trees along streams. It is bulky,
ragged, and loose, but well capped and
brimmed, consisting of twigs, grasses,
rootlets, bits of vegetable down, and
wool firmly matted together, and lined
with feathers, hair, etc.

156

THE KINGBIRD.

You think, my young friends,
because I am called Kingbird I
should be large and fine looking.

Well, when you come to read
about Kings in your history-
book you will find that size has
nothing to do with Kingliness.
I have heard, indeed, that some
of them were very puny little
fellows, in mind as well as in
body.

If it is courage that makes a
king then I have the right to be
called Kingbird. They say I
have a reckless sort of courage,
because I attack birds a great
deal larger than myself.

I would not call it courage to
attack anything smaller than
myself, would you? A big man
finds it easy to shoot a little bird
in the air; and a big boy does
not need to be brave to kill or
cripple some poor little animal
that crosses his path. He only
needs to be a coward to do that!

I only attack my enemies, — the
Hawks, Owls, Eagles, Crows,
Jays, and Cuckoos. They would
destroy my young family if I did
not drive them away. Mr. Crow
especially is a great thief. When
my mate is on her nest I keep
a sharp lookout, and when one
of my enemies approaches I give
a shrill cry, rise in the air, and
down I pounce on his back ; I do
this more than once, and how I
make the feathers fly !

The little hawks and crows I
never attack, and yet they call
me a bully. Sometimes I do go
for a Song-bird or a Robin, but
only when they come too near my
nest. People w^onder why I never
attack the cunning Catbird. I'll
never tell them, you may be sure!

To what family do I belong?
To a large family called Fly-
catchers. Because some Kings
are tyrants I suppose, they call
me the Tyrant Flycatcher. Look
for me next summer on top of a
wire fence or dead twig of a tree,
and watch me, every few min-
utes, dash into the air, seize a
passing insect, and then fly back
to the same perch again.

Any other names ? Yes, some
folks call me the Bee Bird or Bee
Martin. Once in awhile I change
my diet and do snap up a bee !
but it is always a drone, not a
honey-bee. Some ill-natured
people say I choose the drones
because they can't sting, and
not because they are tramp bees
and will not work.

Sing? Yes, when my mate is
on her nest I please her with a
soft pretty song, at other times
my call-note is a piercing- Kyrie-
K-y-rie ! I live with you only
in the summer. When Sep-
tember comes I fly away to a
warmer climate.

159

SUMMARY

Page 123.

BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER— Den droica
blackburitjcr.

Range — Eastern North America; breeds
from northern lilinnesota and so"thern Maine
northward to Labrador and southward along
the Alleghanies to South Carolina ; winters in
the tropics.

Nest — Of fine twigs and grasses, lined with
grasses and tendrils, in coniferous trees, ten to
fortv feet up.

Eggs— Four, grayish white or bluish white,
distinctly and obscurely spotted, speckled, and
blotched with cinnamon brown or olive brown.

Page 128.

AMERICAN GOLDFINCH.— ^/-/wr/^ tristis.
Othernames : "Yellow-bird," "Thistle-bird."

Range — Eastern North America; breeds
from South Carolina to southern Labrador ;
winters from the northern United States to the
Gulf.

Nest — Externally, of fine grasses, strips of
bark and moss, thickly lined with thistle down;
in trees or bushes, five to thirty feet up.

Eggs — Three to six, pale bluish white.

Page 131.

CHIMNEY SWIFT. — Ch<xliira pelagica.
Other name: "Chimney Swallow."

Range — Eastern North America; breeds from
Florida to Labrador; winters in Central America.

Nest — A bracket-like basket of dead twigs
glued together with saliva, attached to the wall
of a chimney, generally about ten feet from the
top, by the gummy secretions of the bird's
salivary glands.

Eggs — Four to six, white.

Page 135.

HORNED l^KRYi, — Otocoris alpestris.
Other name: "Shore Lark."

Range — Breeds in northern Europe, Green-
land, Newfoundland, Labrador, and Hudson Bay
region ; southward in winter into eastern United
States to about latitude 35°

Nest — Of grasses, on the ground.

Eggs — Three or four, pale bluish or greenish
white, minutely and evenly speckled with pale
grayish brown.

Page 140.
SAPSUCKER, YELLOW-BELLIED.— ^//^ji'-

rapicus van us.

Range — Eastern North America; breeds from
Massachusetts northward, and winters from Vir-
ginia to Central America.

Nkst — About forty feet from the ground.

Eggs — Five to seven.

Page 141.

WARBLING YIREO — Viyeogilvus. Other
name: " Yellow-throated Vireo."

Range — North America ; breeds as far north
as the Hudson Bay region ; winters in the
tropics.

Nest — Pensile, of grasses and plant fibres,
firmly and smoothly interwoven, lined with fine
grasses, suspended from a forked branch eight
to forty feet up.

Eggs — Three or four, white, with a few specks
or spots of black umber, or rufous brown, chiefly
about the larger end.

Page 146.

WOOD PEWEE.—Coniopus Virens.

Range — Eastern North America ; breeds from
Florida to Newfoundland ; winters in Central
America.

Nest — Compact and symmetrical, of fine
grasses, rootlets and moss, thickly covered with
lichens, saddled on a limb, twenty to forty feet
up.

Eggs — Three or four, v>'hite, with a wreath of
distinct and obscure markings about the larger
end.

Page 150.

SNOWFLAKE—Plrchvp/ienax nivalis. Other

name : ' Snow Bunting."

Range — Northern parts of northern hemis-
phere, breeding in the arctic regions; in North
America, south in Winter into the northern
United States, irregularly to Georgia, southern
Illinois, and Kansas.

Nest — Of grasses, rootlets, and moss, lined
with finer grasses and feathers, on the ground.

Eggs — Four to seven, pale bluish white,
thinly marked with umber or heavily spotted or
washed with rufous-brown.

Page 153.

JUNCO— /"wc* hyentalis. Other name:
"Snowbird."

Range— North America ; breeds from north-
ern Minnesota to northern New York and
southward along the summits of the Alle-
ghanies to Virginia; winters southward to the
Gulf States.

Nest — Of grasses, moss, and rootlets, lined
with fine grasses and long hairs, on or near the
ground.

Eggs — Four or five, white or bluish white,
finely or evenly speckled or spotted, sometimes
heavily blotched at the larger end with rufous-
brown.

Page 158.

KINGBIRD. — Tyrannus tyrannus.

Range — North America north to New Bruns-
wick and Manitoba; rare west of the Rocky
Mountains ; winters in Central and South
America.

Nest — Compact and symmetrical, of weed-
stocks, grasses, and moss, lined with plant
down, fine grasses and rootlets, generally at the
end of a branch fifteen to twenty-five feet from
the ground.

Eggs — Three to five, white, spotted with
umber.

160

BIRDS.

Illustrated by COLOR PfiOTOGRflPfiY.

Vol. II.

NOVEMBER.

No. 5.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON.

OHN JAMES AUDUBON has
always been a favorite with
the writer, for the invincible-
ness of his love of Nature and
of birds is only equaled by
the spontaneous freshness of his style,
springing from an affectionate and joy-
ous nature. Recently there was found
by accident, in an old calf-skin bound
volume, an autobiography of the
naturalist. It is entitled " Audubon's
Story of his Youth,'' and would make
a very pretty book. As introductory
to the diaries and ornithological
biographies of the birds, it would be
very useful.

Two or three incidents in the life of
this fascinating character are interest-
ing as showing the influence of the
accidental in ultimate achievement.

"One incident," he says, "which is
as perfect in my memory as if it had
occured this very day, I have thought
thousands of times since, and will now
put on paper as one of the curious
things which perhaps did lead me in
after times to love birds, and to finally
study them with pleasure infinite. My
mother had several beautiful parrots,
and some monkeys ; one of the latter
was a full-grown male of a very large
species. One morning, while the
servants were engaged in arranging
the room I was in, ' Pretty Polly '
asking for her breakfast as usual,
' Dii pain an lait pour le perroqitct
Mignonne^^ (bread and milk for the par-
rot Mignonne,) the man of the woods

probably thought the bird presuming
upon his rights in the scale of nature ;
be this as it may, he certainly showed
his supremacy in strength over the
denizen of the air, for, walking
deliberately and uprightly toward the
poor bird, he at once killed it, with
unnatural composure. The sensations
of my infant heart at this cruel sight
were agony to me. I prayed the
servant to beat the monkey, but he,
who for some reason, preferred the
monkey to the parrot, refused. I
uttered long and piercing cries, my
mother rushed into the room ; I was
tranquilized ; the monkey was forever
afterward chained, and Mignonne
buried with all the pomp of a cherished
lost one. This made, as I have said, a
very deep impression on my )outhful
mind."

In consequence of the long absences
of his father, who was an admiral in
the French navy, the young naturalist's
education was neglected, his mother
suffering him to do much as he pleased,
and it was not to be wondered at, as
he says, that instead of applying closely
to his studies, he preferred associating
with boys of his own age and dis-
position, who were more fond of going
in search of bird's nests,fishing,or shoot-
ing, than of better studies. Thus almost
every day, instead of going to school,
he usually made for the fields where
he spent the day, returning with his
little basket filled with what he called
curosities, such as birds' nests, birds'

i6r

eggs, curious lichens, flowers of all
sorts, and even pebbles gathered along
the shore of some rivulet. Neverthe-
less, he did study drawing and music,
for which he had some talent. His sub-
sequent study of drawing under the
celebrated David, richly equipped him
for a work which he did not know
was ever to be his, and enabled him to
commence a series of drawings of birds
of France, which he continued until
he had upwards of two hundred com-
pleted. "All bad enough," he says,
"yet they were representations of birds,
and I felt pleased with them." Before
sailing for France, he had begun a
series of drawings of the birds of
America, and had also begun a study
of their habits. His efforts-were com-
mended by one of his friends, who
assured him the time might come
when he should be a great American
naturalist, which had such weight
with him that he felt a certain degree
of pride in the words, even then, when
he was about eighteen years of age.

" The store at Louisville went on
prosperously, when I attended to it ;
but birds were birds then as now, and
my thoughts were ever and anon
turning toward them as the objects of
my greatest delight. I shot, I drew, I
looked on nature only ; my days were
happy beyond human conception, and
beyond this I really cared not" [How
like Agassiz, who said he had not time
to make money.] As he could not bear
to give the attention required by his
business, his business abandoned him.
" Indeed, I never thought of business
beyond the ever-engaging journeys
which I was in the habit of taking to
Philadelphia or New York, to purchase
goods; those journeys I greatly enjoyed,
as they afforded me ample means to
study birds and their habits as I
traveled through the beautiful, the
darling forests of Ohio, Kentucky, and
Pennsylvania." Poor fellow, how many
ups and downs he had ! He lost every-

thing and became burdened with
debt. But he did not despair for
had he not a talent for drawing ?
He at once undertook to take portraits
of the human head divine in black
chalk, and thanks to his master, David,
succeeded admirably. - He established
a large drawing school at Cincinnati,
and formed an engagement to stuff
birds for the museum there at a large
salary.

" One of the most- extraordinary
things among all these adverse circum-
stances" he adds, "was, that I never for
a day give up listening to the songs of
our birds, or watching their peculiar
habits, or delineating them in the best
way I could ; nay, during my deepest
troubles, I frequently would wrench
myself from the persons around me
and retire to some secluded part of our
noble forests ; and many a time, at the
sound of the wood-thrushes' melodies,
have I fallen on my knees and there
prayed earnestly to our God. This
never failed to bring me the most
valuable of thoughts, and always com-
fort, and it was often necessary for me
to exert my will and compel myself to
return to my fellow-beings."

Do you not fancy that Audubon
was himself a rara avis and worthy of
admiration and study ?

Such a man, in the language of a
contemporary, should have a mon-
ument in the old Creole country in
which he was born, and whose birds
inspired his childish visions. It should
be the most beautiful work possible to
the sculptor's art, portraying Audubon
in the garb he wore when he was
proud and happy to be called the
" American Woodman, " and at his
feet should stand the Eagle which he
named the " Bird of Washington," and
near should perch the Mocking Bird,
as once, in his description, it flew
and fluttered and sang to the mind's
eye and ear from the pages of the old
reading book. C. C. Marble.

162

m col. F. M. Woodruff.

SUMMER TANAGER
]/2 Life-size.

Copvriglitt'd by
Nature Study Fub. Co., 1S97, Chicago.

THE SUMMER TANAGER.

(5 HE TANAGERS are birds of
such uncommon beauty that
when we have taken the pic-
tures of the entire family the
group will be a notable one and will
add attractiveness to the portfolio. [See
Vol. I, pp. 31 and 215.] This speci-
men is also called the Summer Red-
bird or Rose Tanager, and is found
pretty generally distributed over the
United States during the summer
months, wintering in Cuba, Centl-al
America, and northern South America.
As will be seen, the adult male is a
plain vermilion red. The plumage of
the female is less attractive. In habits
this species resembles the Scarlet Tana-
ger, perhaps the most brilliant of the
group, but is not so retiring, frequent-
ing open groves and often visiting
towns and cities.

The nesting season of this charming
bird extends to the latter part of July,
but varies with the latitude and season.
Bark strips and leaves interwoven with
various vegetable substances compose
the nest, which is usually built on a
horizontal or drooping branch, near
its extremity and situated at the edge
of a grove near the roadside. Davie
says: "All the nests of this species
which I have seen collected in Ohio
are very thin and frail structures ; so
thin that the efjofs mav often be seen
from beneath. A nest sent me from
Lee county, Texas, is compactly built
of a cottony weed, a few stems of
Spanish moss, and lined with fine
grass stems." Mr. L. O. Pindar states
that nests found in Kentucky are com-
pactly built, but not very thickly
lined. The eggs are beautiful, being
a bright, light emerald green, spotted,

dotted, and blotched with various
shades of lilac, brownish-purple, and
dark brown.

Chapman says the Summer Tanager
may be easily identified, not alone by
its color but by its unique call-note, a
clearly enunciated chicky^ tiicky^ tuck.
Its song bears a general resemblance
to that of the Scarlet, but to some ears
is much sweeter, better sustained, and
more musical. It equals in strength,
according to one authority, that of the
Robin, but is uttered more hurriedly,
is more " wiry," and much more
continued.

The Summer Tanager is to a greater
or less extent known to farmers as the
Red Bee-Bird. Its food consists largely
of hornets, wasps, and bees.

The male of this species requires
several years to attain the full plum-
age. Immature individuals, it is said,
show a mixture of red and yellow
in relative proportions according to
age. The female has more red than
the male, but the tint is peculiar, a
dull Chinese orange, instead of a pure
rosy vermilion, as in the male.

An interesting study for many of
our readers during the summer months
when the Tanagers a^ gay in their
full plumage, would Be to seek out,
with Birds in hand, the most attractive
denizens of the groves, identifying and
observing them in their haunts until
the entire group, of which five species
are represented in the United States,
is made familiar. When we remem-
ber that there are about three hundred
and eighty known species of Tanagers
in Tropical America, it would seem a
light task to acquaint oneself with the
small family at home.

165

THE AMERICAN WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE.

"As stupid as a Goose! "

Yes, I know that is the way
our family is usually spoken of.
J^ut tlien Tni not a tame Goose,
you know. We wild fellows
think we know a little more than
the one which waddles about
the duck-pond in your back yard.

He sticks to one old place all
the time. Waddles and talks
and looks the same year after
year. AVe migratory birds, on
the other hand, fly from place to
place. Oui- summers are passed
here, our winters there ; so that
we pick up a thing or two the
common Goose never dreams of.

" The laughing Goose ! "

Yes, some people call me that.
I don't know why, unless my
Honk\ lionk^ honk! sounds like a
laugh. Perhaps, though, it is
because the look about my
mouth is so pleasant.

Did you evei- see a flock of us
in motion, in October or Novem-
ber, going to* ur winter home ?

Ah, that is a sight! When
the time comes for us to start,
we form ourselves into a figure
like this "^^ • a big gandei" tak-
ing the lead where the dot is.
Such a honk, honk^ honking yon
never heard. People who have
heard us, and seen us, say it
sounds like a great army over-
head.

Where do we live in summer,
and what do we eat?

You will find us throughout
the whole of North America, but
in greater numbers on the Pacific
coast. The fresh-water lakes
are out favorite resorts. We
visit the wheat fields and corn
fields, nibbling the young, ten-
der blades and feeding on the
scattered grain. The farmers
don't like it a l)it, but we don't
care. That is the reason our
flesh tastes so sweet.

And tough !

My, how you talk! Lt is only
we old fellows that are tough, we
fellows over a year old. But of
course a great many people
don't know that, or don't care.

Why, I once heard of a gan-
der that had waddled arouiid a
barn-yard for five long years.
Thanksgiving Day arrived, and
they roasted him for dinner.

Think of eating an old, old
friend like that !

Where do we build our nests?

Away up north, in Alaska,
and on the islands of the Arctic
Sea. We make them of hay,
feathers, and down, building them
in hollow places on the ground.

How many eggs?

Six. I am very good to
my mate, and an affectionate
father.

1 66

THE AMERICAN WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE,

HITE-FRONTED or
Laughing Geese are found
in considerable numbers
on the prairies of the
Mississippi Valley. They are called
Prairie Brant by market-men and
gunners. Though not abundant on the
Atlantic seaboard, vast flocks may be
seen in the autumn months on
the Pacific Slope. In Oregon and
northern California some remain all
winter, though the greater number go
farther south. They appear to prefer
thegrassy patches along streams flowing
into the ocean, or the tide-water flats
so abundant in Oregon and Washing-
ton, where the Speckle-bellies, as they
are called, feed in company with
the Snow Geese. The nesting place
of this favorite species is in the wooded
districts of Alaska and along the
Yukon river. No nest is formed, from
seven
depression in the sand

It is said that notwithstanding all
references to their ungainly movement
and doltish intellect, the Wild Goose,
of which the White-fronted is one of
the most interesting, is held in high
estimation by the sportsman, and even
he, if keen of observation, will learn
from it many things that will entitle
the species to advancement in the
mental grade, and prove the truth of a
very old adage, that you cannot judge
of things by outward appearance. A
goose, waddling around the barnyard,
may not present a very graceful appear-
ance, nor seem endowed with much
intelligence, yet the ungainly creature,
when in its natural state, has an ease
of motion in flight which will compare
with that of any of the feathered
tribe, and shows a knowledge of the

to ten eggs beine laid in a

means of defense, and of escaping the
attacks of its enemies, that few
possess. There is probably no bird
more cautious, vigilant, and fearful at
danger than this. Should their
suspicion be aroused, they rise upward
slowly in a dense cloud of white, and
sound their alarm notes, but they may
not go over fifty yards before they
alight again, so that the amusement of
watching them may be continued
without much toil or inconvenience.

The White-fronted Goose visits
Illinois only during its migrations,
coming some time in October or early
in November, and returning in IMarch
or April. During its sojourn there it
frequents chiefly open prairies, or
wheat fields, wdiere it nibbles the
young and tender blades, and coi^n-
fields, where it feeds upon the scattered
grains. In California, Ridgway says,
it is so numerous in winter as to be
very destructive of the growing wheat
crop, and it is said that in the Sacra-
mento and San Joaquin valleys, farmers
often find it necessary to employ men
by the month to hunt and drive them
from the fields. This is most success-
fully accomplished by means of brush
hiding places, or " blinds," or by
approaching the flocks on horseback
by the side of an ox which has been
trained for the purpose.

The White-fronted Goose is greatly
esteemed for the excellent quality of
its flesh, which, by those who have
learned to appreciate it, is generally
considered superior to that of any other
species. While the cruel pursuit of
the bird, merely for purpose of sport
ought not to be continued, appreciation
of its value as food may well be
encouraged.

169

THE TURNSTONE.

(5 HIS siiuiU plover-like bird is
found on the sea-coasts of
nearly all countries ; in Amer-
ica, from Greenland and Alaska
to Chili and Brazil ; more or less com-
mon in the interior along the shores of
the Great Lakes and larger rivers.

It is generally found in company
with flocks of the smaller species ot
Sandpipers, its boldly marked plumage
contrasting with surroundings, while
the Sandpipers mingle with the sands
and unless revealed by some abrupt
movement can hardly be seen at a little
distance.

The name Turnstone has been
applied to this bird on account of its
curious habit of dexterously inserting
its bill beneath stones and pebbles along
the shore in quest of food, overturning
them in search of the insects or prey
of any kind which may be lurking
beneath. It is found on smooth, sandy
beaches, though more commonly about
the base of rocky cliffs and cones.
The eggs of horseshoe crabs are its
particular delight.

In the nesting season the Turnstone
is widely distributed throughout the
northern portions of both continents,
and wanders southward alonsf the sea-

coasts of all countries. In America it
breeds commonly in the Barren Lands
of the Arctic coasts and the Anderson
River districts, on the Islands of
Franklin and Liverpool bays, nesting
in July. In the Hudson's Bay country
the eggs are laid in June. The nest is
a hollow scratched in the earth, and is
lined with bits of grass.

The Turnstone is known by various
names : "Brant Bird, " " Bead Bird,"
" Horse-foot-Snipe, " " Sand-runner,"
"Calico-back," " Chicaric " and
"Chickling." The two latter names
have reference to its rasping notes,
"Calico-back," to the variegated
plumage of the upper parts.

In summer the adults are oddly pied
above with black, white, brown, and
chestnut-red, but the red is totally
wanting in winter. They differ from
the true Plovers in the well developed
hind-toe, and the strong claws, but
chiefly in the more robust feet, without
trace of web between the toes.

The eggs are greenish-drab in color,
spotted, blotched, and dotted irregularly
and thickly with yellowish and umber
brown. The eggs are two or four,
abruptly pyriform in shape.

SNOWBIRDS.

Along the narrow sandy height
I watch them Swiftly come and go,

Or round the leafless wood,
Like flurries of wind-driven snow,
Revolving in perpetual flight,
A changing multitude.

Nearer and nearer still they sway.
And, scattering in a circled sweep,

Rush down without a sound ;
And now I see them peer and peep,
Across yon level bleak and gray,
Searching the frozen ground, —

Until a little wind upheaves,

And makes a sudden rustling there,

And then they drop their play.
Flash up into the sunUss air.
And like a flight of silver leaves
Swirl round and sweep nway.

Archib.'^ld Lampman.

170

BIRDS OF PASSAGE.

Black shadows fall

From the lindens tall,

That lift aloft their massive wall

Against the sonthern sky :

And from the realms
Of the shadowy elms,
A tide-like darkness overwhelms

The fields that round ns lie.

But the night is fair

And everywhere

A warm, soft vapor fills the air

And distant sounds seem near ;

And above, in the light
Of the star-lit night,
Swift birds of passage wing their flight
Through the dewy atmosphere.

I hear the beat
Of their pinions fleet,
As from the land of snow and sleet
They seek a southern lea.

I hear the cry

Of their voices high

Falling dreamily through the sky,

But their forms I cannot see.

— Longfellow

173

THE BELTED PIPING PLOVER.

•Sjl N the ]\Iissoiiri river region and
in contiguous parts of the
interior of the United States,
gJ I the Belted Piping Plover is a
connnon summer resident, and
is found along the shores of the great
lakes, breeding on the flat, pebbly
beach between the sand dunes and
shore. It is the second of the ring-
necked Plovers, and arrives in April
in scattering flocks, which separate
into pairs a month later. It strays at
times into the interior, and has been
known to breed on the borders of ponds
many miles from the coast. In New
England, however, it seldom wanders
far from the shore, and prefers sand
islands near the main land for its nest-
ing haunts. Nelson says, that some
thirty pairs, which were breeding
along the beach at Waukegan, within
a space of two miles, successfully con-
cealed their nests, for which he made
diligent search, although the birds
were continually circliug about or
standing at a short distance, uttering
an occasional note of alarm.

These birds have a soft, low, piping
note, which they utter not only upon
the wing, but occasionally as they run
about upon the ground, and, during
the early nesting season, a peculiar,
loud, prolonged, musical call, that
readily attracts attention. In other
respects, their habits are not noticeably
differed from the Semi-palmated. (See
July Birds, p. 8.)

Their nests are without lining, a
mere depression in the sand. The
eggs are usually four, light gray to

creamy buff, finely and rather sparsely
speckled or dotted with blackish brown
and purplish gray.

The- female Belted Piping Plover is
similar to the male, but with the dark
colors lighter and less in extent. The
young have no black band in front,
while the collar around the neck is
ashy brown.

These interesting and valuable game
birds -are found associated with various
beach birds and Sand-Pipers, and they
become exceedingly fat during the
latter part of the summer.

All the Plovers have a singular
habit when alighting on the ground
in the nesting time ; they drop their
wings, stand with their legs half bent,
and tremble as if unable to support
their bodies. In this absurd position
they will stand, according to a well-
known observer, for several minutes,
uttering a curious sound, and then
seem to balance themselves with great
difficulty. This singular manoeuvre is
no doubt intended to produce a belief
that they may be easily caught, and
thus turn the attention of the egg-
gatherer from the pursuit of the eggs
to themselves, their eggs being
recognized the world over, as a great
delicacy.

The Plover utters a piping sound
While on the wing or on the ground ;
All a treipble it drops its wings,
And, with legs half bent, it sings :
"My nest is near, come take the eggs,
And take me too, — I'm off my legs."
In vain men search with eager eyes,
No nest is found, the Plover flies !

— C. C. M

174

'4'

,■*.■,*

THE WILD TURKEY.

(Hit has been observed that when
the Turkey makes its appear-
ance on table all conversation
0>J I should for the moment be
suspended. That it is eaten in
silence on some occasions may be
inferred from the following anecdote :
A certain judge of Avignon, famous
for his love of the glorious bird, which
the American people have wisely
selected for the celebration of Thanks-
giving Day, said to a friend : ' ' We
have just been dining on a superb
Turkey. It was excellent. Stuffed
with truffles to the very throat — ten-
der, delicate, filled with perfume ! We
left nothing but the bones ! " " How
many were there of you?" asked his
friend. "Two," replied the judge,
"the Turkey— and myself!" The
reason, no doubt, why this brilliant
bird, which so much resembles the
domestic Turkey, is now almost ex-
tinct. It was formerly a resident of
New England, and is still found to
some extent as far north-west as the
Missouri River and south-west as
Texas. In Ohio it was formerly an
abundant resident. Dr. -Kirtland
(1850) mentions the time when Wild
Turkeys were more common than
tame ones are now.

The nests of this bird are very
difficult to discover, as they are made
on the ground, midst tall, thick weeds
or tangled briars. The female will
not leave the nest until almost trodden
upon. It is stated that when the eggs
are once touched, she will abandon
her nest.

The Turkey became known to
Europeans almost immediately upon
the discovery of America by the
Spaniards in 1518, and it is probable
that it is distinctively an American
bird. In its wild state, its plumage,
as in the case of the Honduras Turkey,
grows more lustrous and magnificent
as the family extends southward.

The "Gobblers," as the males are
called, associate in parties of ten to
one hundred, seeking their food apart
from the females, which wander singly
with their young or in troops with
other hens and their families, some-
times to the number of seventy or
eighty. They travel on foot, unless
disturbed by the hunter or a river
compels them to take wing. It is
said that when about to cross a river,
they select a high eminence from
which to start, that their flight may
be more sure, and in such a position
they sometimes remain for a day or
more, as if in consultation. On such
occasions the males gobble vociferously,
strutting about pompously as if to
animate their companions. At the
signal note of their leader, they wing
their way to the opposite shore.

The Wild Turkey feeds on many
kinds of berries, fruits, and grasses,
Beetles, tadpoles, young frogs, and
lizards are sometimes found in its
crop. When the Turkeys reach
their destination, they disperse in
flocks, devouring the mast as they
proceed.

Pairing time begins in March. The
sexes roost apart, but at no great
distance, so that when the female
utters a call, every male within hear-
ing responds, rolling note after note in
rapid succession, in a voice resembling
that of the tame Turkey when he
hears any unusual noise. Where the
Turkeys are numerous, the woods
from one end to the other, sometimes
for many miles, resound with these
voices of wooing.

The specimen of the Wild Turkey
presented in this number of Birds is
of extraordinary size and beauty, and
has been much admired. The day is
not far distant when a living specimen
of this noble bird will be sought for in
vain in the United States.

177

THE CERULEAN WARBLER.

(5 HIS beautiful little sky-blue
feathered creature is well
named Azure Warbler, or
again White- throated Blue
Warbler, and is the most abundant of
the genus here.

It is a bird of the wood, everywhere
associated with the beautiful tall for-
ests of the more northern counties of
western New York, sometimes found
in the open woods of pasture-lands,
and quite partial to hardwood trees.
In its flitting motion in search of in-
sect-prey, and in the jerking curves of
its more prolonged flight, as also in
its structure, it is a genuine Wood
Warbler and keeps for the most part
to what Thoreau calls the "upper story"
of its sylvan domain.

All Warblers, it has been said, de-
pend upon their markings rather
than song for their identity, which
renders the majority of the tribe of
greater interest to the scientist than
to the novice. Until you have named
four or five of the commonest species
as landmarks, you will be considerably
confused.

Audubon described the song of the
Cerulean Warbler as " extremely sweet
and mellow," whereas it is a modest
little strain, says Chapman, or trill,
divided into sylables like rr^-^, see^ zee,
ze-ee-ee-eep^ or according to another
observer, rheet, rheet, rheet, rheet, ridi^
idi^ e-e-e-e-ee ; beginning with several
soft warbling notes and ending in a
rather prolonged but quite musical
squeak. The latter and more rapid
part of the strain, which is given in
the upward slide, approaches an insect
quality of tone which is more or less
peculiar to all true Warblers, a song
so common as to be a universal char-
acteristic of our tall forests.

It is not strange that the nest of this
species has been so seldom discovered,
even where the bird is very abund-

ant during the breeding season. It is
built in the higher horizontal branches
of forest trees, always out some dis-
tance from the trunk, and ranging from
twenty to fifty feet above the ground.
One described by Dr. Brewer, found in
Ontario, near Niagara Falls, was built
in a large oak tree at the height of
fifty or more feet from the ground.
It was placed horizontally on the
upper surface of a slender limb be-
tween two small twigs ; and the branch
on which it was thus saddled was only
an inch and a half in thickness, be-
ing nine feet from the trunk of the
tree. The abandoned home was se-
cured with great difficulty.

The nest is a rather slender fabric,
somewhat similar to the nest of the
Redstart, and quite small for the bird,
consisting chiefly of a strong rim firmly
woven of strips of fine bark, stems of
grasses, and pine needles, bound round
with flaxen fibres of plants and wool.
Around the base a few bits of hornets'
nests, mosses, and lichens are loosely
fastened. The nest within is fur-
nished with fine stems and needles, the
flooring very thin and slight.

The bird is shy when started from
the nest, and has a sharp chipping
alarm-note common to the family.

The Cerulean Warbler is found in
the Eastern States, but is more num-
erous west of the Allegheny moun-
tains, and throughout the heavily
wooded districts of the Mississippi val-
ley. In winter it migrates to Central
America and Cuba. The Warblers
are of unfailing interest to the lover of
bird life. Apart from the beauty of
the birds themselves, with their per-
petually contrasting colors among the
green leaves, their pretty ways furnish
to the silent watcher an ever changing
spectacle of the innocent life in the
1 tree-tops.

178

From col. Fred. Kaempfer.

WILD TURKEY.
V'o Liife-size.

Nature !<tudy Pub. Co., ISUT. Chicago.

jii. L'/l I . A\. Wooarutt.

CERULEAN WARBLER.

% Life-s-ize.

Copvriglited by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicayo.

THE WILD TURKEY,

I thought my picture would
appear in this number of Birds.
What would Thanksgiving be
without a Turkey, I'd like to
know.

The editor says that I am a
bird of ex-traor-di-na-ry size
and beauty. That word is as
big as I am, but by spelling it, I
guess you will understand.

I look as proud as a peacock,
don't I ? Well, I am just as
proud. You ought to see me
strut, and hear me talk when
the hen-turkeys are around.
Why, sometimes when there is
a large troop of us in the woods
you can hear us gobble, gobble,
gobble, for many miles. We are
so fond of talking to each other.

That is when we are about to
set up housekeeping, you think.

Yes, in March and April.
After the nests are made, and
the little turkeys hatched out,
we big, handsome fellows go off
to ourselves. The hen-turkeys,
with their young broods, do the
same.

Sometimes there are as many
as a hundred in our troop and
seventy or eighty in theirs. We

travel on foot, picking up food
as we go, till we meet a man
with a gun, or come to a wide
river.

Then we have to fly.

In a flock? Oh, yes. AVe
choose some high place from
which to get a good start.
There we all stay, sometimes a
daj^ or two, strutting about and
talking big. It is gobble, gobble
gobble^ from morning till night.
Just like one of your conven-
tions, you know. After awhile
our leader gives the signal and
off we all fly to the opposite
shore.

Did you ever see one of our
nests? No? .Well, they are
not easily seen, though they are
made on the ground. You see,
we are cunning and build them
among tall, thick weeds and
tangled briars.

I hope, if you ever come
across one, you will not touch it,
because my mate would never
return to it again, if you did.

What do we eat?

Berries, fruit and grasses,
beetles, tadpoles, frogs and
lizards. In fact anything we
consider good.

183

THE YELLOW-BILLED TROPIC BIRD.

IN appearance this bird resembles
a large Tern (see Vol. i, page
103), and its habits are similar
to those of the Terns. Inter-
topical, it is of a wandering dis-
position, breeding on the islands of
mid-ocean thousands of miles apart.
It is noted for its elegant, airy, and long-
prolracted flight. Davie says that
on Bourbon, Mauritius and other
islands east and south of Madagascar
it breeds in the crevices of the rocks
of inaccessible cliffs, and in hollow
trees. In the Bermuda Islands it nests
about the first of May in holes in high
rocky places along the shores. Here
its favorite resorts are the small islands
of Great Sound, Castle Harbor, and
Harrington Sound. The Phaeton, as
it is felicitously called, nests in the
Bahamas in holes in the perpendicular
faces of cliffs and on the flat surfaces
of rocks. A single &gg is laid, which

has a ground-color of purplish brown-
ish white, covered in some specimens
almost over the entire surface with
fine reddish chocolate-colored spots.

These species compose the small but
distinct family of tropic birds and are
found throughout the tropical and sub-
tropical regions of the world. Long
journeys are made by them across the
open sea, their flight when emigrating
being strong, rapid, and direct, and
immense distances are covered by them
as they course undismayed by wind or
storm. In feeding, Chapman says,
they course over the water, beating
back and forth at a height of about
forty feet, and their long willowly tail-
feathers add greatly to the grace and
beauty of their appearance when on
the wing. They are of rare and
probably accidental occurrence on our
coasts.

The Songs of Nature never cease,
Her players sue not for release
In nearer fields, on hills afar,
Attendant her musicians are :
From water brook or forest tree,
For aye comes gentle melody,
The very air is music blent —
An universal instrument.

— John Vance Cheney.

184

From col. F. M Woodruff.

l^LED TROPIC BIRD.
J^ Life-size.

Nuturi' Study I'ub. Co., IsiiT. (.In

THE YELLOW-BILLED TROPIC BIRD.

The people who make a study
of birds say that I look like a
large Tern, and that my habits
are like his.

I don'^" know whether that is
so, I am sure, for I have no
acquaintance with that bird, but
you little folks can turn to your
Maix'li number of Birds and see
for yourselves if it is true.

For my part, I think I am the
prettier of the two on account of
my long, willowy tail feathers.
They add greatly, it is said, to
the grace and beauty of my
appearance when on the wing.
Then, the color of my coat is
much more beautiful than his, I
think, don't you think so, too?

We are not so common as the

Terns, either, for they are very

* numerous. There are only three

species of our family, so we

consider ourselves quite distinct.

What are we noted for?

Well, principally for our long
distance flights across the sea,
elegant and airy, as the writers
say of us. Maybe that is the
reason they call us the. Phaeton
sometimes.

Do we go north in the summer
as so many other birds do ?

Ugh! You make me shudder.
No, indeed! We never go
farther north than Florida. Our
home, or where we build our
nests, is in the tropical and sub-
tropical regions, wdiere the
weather is very warm, you
know.

We are great wanderers and
build our nests on islands, way
out in the ocean many thousands
of miles apart.

In trees?

Oh, no, but in any hole we see
in the face of a great rock or
cliff, and sometimes right on the
top of a rock.

How many eggs?

Only one. That is the reason,
you see, that our family remains
small.

Sing?

Oh, my, no! We are not sing-
ing birds. We have a call-note,
though harsh and gutteral,
which sounds like tip, tip, tip.

187

THE EUROPEAN KINGFISHER.

places.
Dixon,

lARELY indeed is this charm-
ing bird now found in Eng-
land, where formerly it could
be seen darting hither and
thither in most frequented
late years, according to
has been persecuted so
greatly, partly by the collector, who
never fails to secure the brilliant
creature for his cabinet at every oppor-
tunity, and partly by those who have
an inherent love for destroying every
living object around them. Game-
keepers, too, are up in arms against
him, because of his inordinate love of
preying on the finny tribe. Where the
Kingfisher now is seen is in the most
secluded places, the author adds,
where the trout streams murmur
through the silent woods, but seldom
trod by the foot of man ; or in the
wooded gullies down which the stream
from the mountains far above rushes
and tumbles over the huge rocks, or
lies in pools smooth as the finest mir-
ror.

The Kingfisher is comparatively a
silent bird, though he sometimes utters
a few harsh notes as he flies swift as a
meteor through the wooded glades.
You not unfrequently flush the King-
fisher from the holes in the banks, and
amongst the brambles skirting the
stream. He roosts at night in holes,
usually the nesting cavity. Sometimes
he will alight on stumps and branches
projecting from the water, and sit quiet
and motionless, but on your approach
he darts quickly away, often uttering
a feeble seep, -^^'^A as he goes.

The habits of the English Kingfisher
are identical with those of the
American, though the former is the
more brilliant bird in plumage. (See

Birds, Vol. I, p. 62.) The ancients
had a very absurd idea as to its nesting
habits. They believed that the bird
built a floating nest, and whenev^er the
old bird and her charge were drifted
by the winds, as they floated over the
briny deep, the sea remained calm.
He was, therefore, to the ancient
mariner, a bird held sacred in the
extreme. Even now these absurd
superstitions have not wholly dis-
appeared. For instance, the nest is
said to be made of the fish bones ejected
by the bird, while the real facts are,
that they not only nest but roost in
holes, and it must follow that vast
quantities of rejected fish bones
accumulate, and on these the eggs are
of necessity laid.

These eggs are very beautiful
objects, being of a deep pinkish hue,
usually six in number.

The food of the Kingfisher is not
composed entirely of fish, the remains
of fresh-water shrimps being found in
their stomachs, and doubtless other
animals inhabiting the waters are from
time to time devoured.

The English Kingfisher, says Dixon,
remains throughout the year, but
numbers perish when the^ native ■
streams are frozen. There is, perhaps,
not a bird in all the ranks of the
feathered gems of equatorial regions,
be it ever so fair, the Humming-bird
excepted, that can boast a garb so
lovely as this little creature of the
northland. Naturalists assert that the
sun has something to do with the
brilliant colors of the birds and insects
of the tropics, but certainly, the King-
fisher is an exception of the highest
kind. Alas, that he has no song to
inspire the muse of some English bard!

1S8

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences

EUROPEAN KINGFISHER.
K 10 Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, Chicago.

THE EUROPEAN KINGFISHER.

Little Folks :

I shouldn't have liked it one
bit if my picture had been left
out of this beautiful book. My
cousin, the American Kingfisher,
had his in the February number,
and I find he had a good deal
to say about himself in his letter,
too.

Fine feathers make fine birds,
they say. Well, if that is true,
I must be a very fine bird, for
surely my feathers are gay
enough to please anybody — 1
think.

To see me in all my beauty,
you must seek me in my native
wood. I look perfectly gorgeous
there, fiitting from tree to tree.
Or maybe you would rather see
me sitting on a stump, gazing
down into the clear pool which
looks like a mirror.

'' Oh, what a vain bird ! " you
would say; "see him looking
at himself in the water;" when
all the time I had my eye on a
fine trout which I intended to
catch for my dinner.

AYell, though I wear a brighter
dress than my American cousin,
our habits are pretty much alike.
I am sure he catches fish the
same way I do — when he is
hungry.

AYith a hook and line, as you
do?

Oh, no ; with my bill, which is
long, you observe, and made for
that very purpose. You should
just see me catch a fish ! Down
I fly to a stump near the brook,
or to a limb of a tree which
overhangs the water, and there
I sit as quiet as a mouse for
quite a while.

Everything being so qiliet, a
fine speckled trout, or a school
of troutlets, play near the sur-
face. Now is my chance! Down
I swoop, and up I come with a
fish crosswise in my bill.

Back I go to my perch, toss
the minnow into the air, and as
it falls catch it head first and
swallow it whole. I tell you
this because you ought to know
why I am called Kingfisher.

Do we swallow bones and all?

Yes, but we afterwards eject
the bones, when we are resting
or roosting in our holes in the
banks of the stream. That must
be the reason people who write
about us say we build our nests
of fish bones.

Sing?

Oh, no, we are not singing
birds ; but sometimes, when fly-
ing swiftly through the air, we
give a harsh cry that nobody
but a bird understands.

Your friend.
The English Kingfisher.

191

THE VERMILION FLY-CATCHER.

THICKETS along water courses
are favorite resorts of this
beautiful Fly-catcher, which
may be seen only on the
southern border of the United States,
south through Mexico to Guatemala,
where it is a common species. Mr.
W. E. D. Scott notes it as a common
species about Riverside, Tucson, and
Florence, Arizona. Its habits are
quite similar to those of other Fly-
catchers, though it has not been so
carefully observed as its many cousins
in other parts of the country. During
the nesting season, the male frequently
utters a twittering song while poised
in the air, in the manner of the
Sparrow Hawk, and during the song
it snaps its bill as if catching insects.

The Vermilion's nest is usually
placed in horizontal forks of ratana
trees, and often in mesquites, not more
then six feet from the ground; they are
composed of small twigs and soft
materials felted together, with the
rims covered with lichens, and the
shallow cavity lined with a few
horse or cow hairs. Dr. Merrill states
that they bear considerable resemblance
to nests of the Wood Pewee in appear-
ance and the manner in which they
are saddled to the limb. Nests have
been found, however, which lacked
the exterior coating of lichens.

Three eggs are laid of a rich
creamy-white with a ring of large
brown and lilac blotches at the larger
end.

A WINTER NEST.

Pallid, wan-faced clouds
Press close to the frozen pines,
And follow the jagged lines
Of fence, that the sleet enshrouds.

Sharp in the face of the sky.
Gaunt, thin-ribbed leaves are blown ;
They rise with a shuddering moan,
Then sink in the snow and die.

At the edge of the wood a vine
Still clings to the sleeping beech,
While its stiffened tendrils reach
A nest, and around it twine.

A little gray nest all alone.
With its feathery lining of snow,
Where bleak winds, piping low.
Croon a sweet minor tone.

— Nora A. Piper.

192

From col. George F. Breninger.

VERMILION FLYCATCHER.
3/5 Life-size.

(opvii^llted .

Natiii-e Study Tub. Co., l>y7. Chicago.

BIRD MISCELLANY.

Red and yellow, green and brown,

Leaves are whirling, rustling down ;
Acorn babes in their cradles lie.

Through the bare trees the brown birds fly ;
The Robin chirps as he flutters past —

November days have come at last.

— Clara Louise Strong.

" I have watched birds at their singing under many and widely differing
circumstances, and I am sure that they express joyous anticipation, present
content, and pleasant recollection, each as the mood moves, and with equal
ease."

— M. Thompson.

" The act of singing is evidently a pleasurable one ; and it probably serves
as an outlet for superabundant nervous energy and excitement, just as dancing,
singing, and field sports do with us."

— A. R. Wallace.

" The bird upon the tree utters the meaning of the wind — a voice of the
grass and wild flower, words of the green leaf; they speak through that slender
tone. Sweetness of dew and rifts of sunshine, the dark hawthorn touched
with breadths of open bud, the odor of the air, the color of the daffodil — all that
is delicious and beloved of spring-time are expressed in his song."

— Richard Jefferies.

195

THE LAZULI BUNTING.

The joy is great of him who strays
In shady woods on summer days.

— Maurice Thompson.

^JJIX Colorado and Arizona the
Lazuli Painted Finch, as it is
called, is common, while in
eJ_|_ California it is very abundant,
beinj;, in fact, ijenerally dis-
tributed throu,i;hout the west, and
along the Pacific Coast it is found as
far north as Pnget Sound, during the
summer. Davie says it replaces the
Indigo P)unting, (See Birds, Vol. I,
page 173,) from the Plains to the
Pacific, being found in all suitable
localities. The nest is usually built
in a bush or in the lower limbs of trees,
a few feet from the ground. Fine
strips of bark, small twigs, grasses, and
hair are used in preparing it for the
four tiny, light bluish-green eggs,
which readily fade when exposed to
light. The eggs so closely resemble
those of the Bluebird as not to be
distinguishable with certainty. The
nest is an inartistic one for a bird of
gay plumage.

From Florence A. Merriam's charm-
ing book, " A-Birding on a Bronco,"
we select a description of the pretty
manners of this attractive bird. She
says :

" While waiting for the Wood-
peckers, one day, I .saw a small
brownish bird flying busily back and
forth to some green weeds. She was
joined by her mate, a handsome blue
Lazuli Bunting, even more beautiful
than our lovely Indigo, and he flew
beside her full of life and joy. He lit
on the side of a cockle .stem, and on
the instant caught sight of me. Alas!
he seemed suddenly turned to stone.
He held onto that stalk as if his little
legs had been bars of iron and I a
devouring monster. When he had
collected his wits enough to fly off",
instead of the careless gay flight with

which he had come out through the
open air, he timidly kept low within
the cockle field, making a circuitous
way through the high stalks. He
could be afraid of me if he liked, I
thought, for after a certain amount of
suspicion, an innocent person gets
resentful ; at any rate I was going to
see that nest. Creeping up cautiously
when the mother bird was away, so as
not to scare her, and carefully parting
the mallows, I looked in. Yes, there
it was, a beautiful little sage-qneen
nest of old grass laid in a coil. I felt
as pleased as if having a right to share
the family happiness. After that I
watched the small worker gather
material with new interest, knowing
where she was going to put it. She
worked fast, but did not take the first
thing she found, by any means. With
a flit of the wing she went in nervous
haste from cockle to cockle, looking
eagerly about her. Jumping down to
the ground, she picked up a bit of
grass, threw it down dissatisfied, and
turned away like a person looking for
something. At last she lit on the side
of a thistle, and tweaking out a fibre,
flew with it to the nest.

" A month after the first encounter
with the father Lazuli, I found him
looking at me around the corner of a
cockle stalk, and in passing back
again, caught him singing full tilt,
though his bill was full of insects!
After we had turned our backs I looked
over my shoulder and had the satis-
faction of seeing him take his beakful
to the nest. You couldn't help admir-
ing him, for though not a warrior who
would snap his bill over the head of
an enemy of his home, he had a gallant
holiday air with his blue coat and
merry song, and you felt sure his little
brown mate would get cheer and
courage enough from his presence to
make family dangers appear less
frightful."

196

From col. John F. Ferry.

CHICAGO COLOHTYPE CO

LAZULI BUNTING.
J^ Life-size.

Copyriglited by
Nature Study i'ub. Co., 1897, Chicago

THE LAZULI BUNTING.

You think you have seen nie
before ? Well, I must admit my
relative, the Indigo Bunting, and
I do look alike. They say
though, I am the prettier bird of
the two. Turn to your March
number, page 173, and decide for
yourselves.

I live farther west than he
does. You find him in the
eastern and middle states. Then
he disappears and I take his
place, all the way from the Great
Plains to the Pacific Ocean.

Some people call me the
Lazuli Painted Finch. That's
funny, for I never painted any-
thing in my life— not even my
cheeks. Would you like to know
how my mate and I go to house-
keeping? A lady who visits
California, where I live, will tell
you all about it. She rides a
horse called Mountain Billy.
He will stand still under a tree
so that she can peep into nests
and count the eggs, when the
mother bird is away.

She can travel a good many
miles in that way, and meet lots
of birds. She says in her book,
that she has got acquainted with
seventy-five families, without
robbing one nest, or doing the
little creatures any harm.

Well, one day this lady saw a
brownish bird flying busily back

and forth to some tall green
weeds. After a while a hand-
some blue Bunting flew along
side of her, full of life and joy.

That was my mate and I.
How frightened I was ! for our
nest was in those green weeds
and not very far from the
ground. I flew away as soon as
I could pluck up courage, but
not far, so that I could watch
the lady and the nest. How my
h^art jumped when I saw her
creep up, part the weeds and
look in. All she saw was a few
twigs and a sage-green nest of
old grass laid in a coil. My
mate hadn't put in the lining
yet ; you see it takes her quite a
while to get the thistle down and
the hair and strips of bark for
the inside. The next time the
lady passed, the house was done
and my mate was sitting on the
nest. She just looked down at
us from the back of Mountain
Billy and passed on.

Four weeks after, she came
again, and there I was, flying
about and singing "like a bird,"
my mouth full of insects, too. I
waited 'till she had turned away
before I flew to the nest to feed
our little ones. I didn't know,
you see, that she was such a
good friend of ours, oi- I
wouldn't have been so afraid.

199

SUMMARY

TANAGER. — Piraiiga rubra.
; " Suiiiuier Red-bird," "Rose

Page 163.

SUMMER
Otlier names
Tanager."

Range — Eastern Uuited States west to the
edge of the Plains; norlh regularly to about 40°
— New Jersey, central Ohio, Illinois, casually
north to Connecticut and Ontario, accidently to
Nova Scotia, wintering in Cuba, Central Amer-
ica, and northern South America. (Davie.)

Nest — Of bark strips and leaves interwoven
with various vegetable substances, on drooping
branch of tree.

Eggs — Three or four, bluish white or greenish
blue, with cinnamon or olive-brown markings.

Eggs — Ten to fourteen, pale cream bufif, finely
and evenly speckled with grayish brown.

Page 16S.

AMERICAN WHITE-FRONTED GCXDSE —
Avser albifrons gainbeli. Other names :
" Laughing Goose," " Speckle Belly."

Range — North America, breeding far north-
ward ; in winter south to Mexico and Cuba,
rare on the Atlantic coast.

Nest — On the ground, of grasses lined with
down.

Eggs — Six or seven, dull greenish yellow
with obscure darker tints.

Page 171.

TURNSTONE.— /4r^«ar/fl interpres. Other
names: " Brant Bird," " Calico-back," " Bead-
bird," " Sand-runner," "Chickling," " Horse -
foot Snipe "

Range — Nearly cosmopolitan ; nests in the
Arctic regions, and in America migrates south-
ward to Patagonia. (Chapman.)

Nest — A slight depression on the ground.

Eggs — Two or four, greenish drab, spotted
all over with brown.

Page 175.

THE BELTED PIPING PLOVER— ^^^f-
alitis tneloda circtinicincta.

Range — Missouri river region ; occasionally
eastward to the Atlantic coast.

Nest — Depression in the sand without lining.

Eggs — Four, light gray to creamy buff,
finely speckled with blackish brown and purp-
lish gray.

Page tSo.

"WILD TXy^YiS.Y—Meleagris gallopava.

Range— East-rn United States from Penn-
sylvania southward to Florida, west to Wiscon-
sin, the Indian Territory and Texas.

Nest — On the ground, at the base of a bush
or tree.

Page 18 r.

CERULEAN WARBLER— ZPfw^r^^a caeru-
lea. Otlier names : ' ' Azure Warbler ; " " White-
throated Blue Warbler."

Range — Mississippi valley as far north as
Minnesota, and eastward as far as Lockport, N.
Y. (Davison.) Winters in the tropics.

Nest — Of fine grasses bound with spider's
silk, lined with strips of bark and with a few
lichens attached to its upper surface, in a tree,
twenty-five to fifty feet from the ground. (Chap-
man.)

Eggs — Four, creamy white, thickly covered
with rather heavy blotches of reddish brown.
Page 186.

YELLOW-BILLED TROPIC BIRD.— /'/^a^-
ihonjiavirostris. Other names: "Phaeton."

Range. — Tropical coasts; Atlantic coasts of
tropical America, West Indies, Bahamas, Ber-
mudas ; casual in Florida and accidental in
Western New York and Nova Scotia. (Chap-
man.)

Nest — In holes in the perpendicular faces of

cliffs, also on the flat surfaces of rocks.

EGGS-Oue, ground color of purplish brownish
white, covered with fine reddish chocolate-
colored spots. (Davie.)
Page 190.

EUROPEAN YJNQYISUEK—Alcedo ispida.

R.\NGE— England and portions of Europe.

Nest— In holes of the banks of streams.

Eggs — Usually six, of a deep pinkish hue.
Page 193.

VERMILION FLYCATCHER. — Pyroceph-
alus rubineus inexicanus.

Range — Southern Border of the United
States, south through Mexico and Guatemala.

Nest — In forks of ratana trees, not more than
six feet up, of small twigs and soft materials
felted together, the rims covered with lichens ;
the cavity is shallow.

Eggs — Usually three, the ground color a rich
creamy white, with a ring of large brown and
lilac blotches at the larger end.

Page 198.

LAZULI BUNTING. — Passer ina amoena.
Other name : ' Lazuli Painted Finch."

Range— Western United States from the
Great Plains to the Pacific ; south in winter to
Western Mexico.

Nest^Iu a bush or the lower limbs of trees,
a few feet from the ground, of fine strips of bark,
small twigs, grasses, and is lined with hair.

Eggs — Usually four, light bluish green.

BIRDS

Illustrated by COLOR PHOTOGRflPHY.

Vol. II.

DECEMBER, 1897.

No. 6.

THE ORNITHOLOGICAL CONGRESS.

E had the pleasure of
attending the Fifeeenth
Congress of the American
Ornithologists' Union,
which met and held its three days
annual session in the American
Museum of Natural History, New-
York City, November 9-1 1, 1897.
Dr. C. Hart Merriam, of the Depart-
ment of Agriculture, Washington,
D. C, presided, and there were present
about one hundred and fifty of the
members, resident in nearly all the
states of the Union.

The first paper read was one pre-
pared by J. C. Merrill, entitled " In
Memoriam : Charles Emil Bendire."
The character, accomplishments, and
achievements of the deceased, whose
valuable work in biographizing Amer-
ican birds is so well known to those
interested in ornithology, were referred
to in so appropriate a manner that the
paper, though not elaborate as it is to
be hoped it may ultimately be made,
will no doubt be published for general
circulation. Major Bendire's services
to American ornithology are of indis-
putable value, and his untimely death
eclipsed to some extent, possibly
wholly, the conclusion of a series of
bird biographies which, so far as they
had appeared, were deemed to be
adequate, if not perfect.

Mr. Frank M. Chapman, the well
known authority on birds, and whose
recent books are valuable additions to
our literature, had, it may be presumed,
a paper to read on the "Experiences
of an Ornithologist in Mexico," though

he did not read it. He made, on the
contrary, what seemed to be an
extemporaneous talk, exceedingly
entertaining and sufficiently instruc-
tive to warrant a permanent place for
it in the Auk^ of which he is associate
editor. We had the pleasure of exam-
ining the advance sheets of a new book
from his pen, elaborately illustrated in
color, and shortly to be published.
Mr. Chapman is a comparatively
young man, an enthusiastic student and
observer, and destined to be recognized
as one of our most scientific thinkers,
as many of his published pamphlets
already indicate. Our limited space
precludes even a reference to them now.
His remarks were made the more attrac-
tive by the beautiful stuffed specimens
with which he illustrated them.

Prof. Elliott Coues, in an address,
"Auduboniana, and Other Matters of
Present Interest," engaged the de-
lighted attention of the Congress on
the morning of the second day's session.
His audience was large. In a bio-
graphical sketch of Audubon the Man,
interspersed with anecdote, he said so
many interesting things that we regret
we omitted to make any notes that
would enable us to indicate at least
something of his characterization. No
doubt just what he said will appear in
an appropriate place. Audubon's port-
folio, in which his precious manu-
scripts and drawings were so long
religiously kept, which he had carried
with him to London to exhibit to possi-
ble publishers, a book so large that
two men were required to carry it,

though the great naturalist had used
it as an indispensable and convenient
companion for so many years, was
slowly and we thought reverently
divested by Dr. Coues of its wrappings
and held up to the surprised and grate-
ful gaze of the spectators. It was
dramatic. Dr. Coues is an actor.
And then came the comedy. He
could not resist the inclination to talk
a little — not disparagingly, but truth-
fully, reading a letter never before
published, of Swainson to Audubon
declining to associate his name with
that of Audubon " under the circum-
stances." All of which, we apprehend,
will duly find a place on the shelves
of public libraries.

We would ourself like to say
something of Audubon as a man. To
us his life and character have a special
charm. His was a beautiful youth,
like that of Goethe. His love of
nature, for which he was willing to
make, and did make, sacrifices, will
always be inspiring to the youth of
noble and gentle proclivities ; his per-
sonal beauty, his humanity, his love-
life, his domestic virtues, enthrall the
ingenuous mind ; and his appreciation
— shown in his beautiful composi-
tions— of the valleys of the great river,
La Belle Riviere^ through which its
waters, shadowed by the magnificent
forests of Ohio and Kentucky, wan-
dered— all of these things have from
youth up shed a sweet fragrance over
his memory and added greatly to our
admiration of and appreciation for the
man.

So many subjects came before the
Congress that we cannot hope to do
more than mention the titles of a few
of them. ]\Ir. Sylvester D. Judd dis-
cussed the question of " Protective
Adaptations of insects from an Orni-
thological Point of View;" ]\Ir. William
C. Rives talked of " Summer Birds of
the West Virginia Spruce Belt ; " Mr.
John N. Clark read a paper entitled
" Ten Days among the Birds of North-

ern New Hampshire ; " Harry C. Ober-
holser talked extemporaneously of
" Liberian Birds," and in a most enter-
taining and instructive manner, every
word he said being worthy of large print
and liberal embellishment ; Mr. J. A.
Allen, editor of The Auk^ said a great
deal that was new and instructive
about the " Origin of Bird Migration;"
Mr. O. Widmann read an interesting
paper on " The Great Roosts on Gab-
beret Island, opposite North St. Louis;"
J. Harris Reed presented a paper on
"The Terns of Gull Island, New
York ; " A. W. Anthony read of " The
Petrels of Southern California," and
Mr. George H. ]\Iackay talked interest-
ingly of " The Terns of Penikese
Island, Mass."

There were other papers of interest
and value. " A Naturalist's Expedition
to East Africa," by D. G.. Elliot, was,
however, the piece de resistance of the
Congress. The lecture was delivered
in the lecture hall of the IMuseum, on
Wednesday at 8 p. m. It was illus-
trated by stereopticon views, and in
the most remarkable manner. The
pictures were thrown upon an immense
canvas, were marvellously realistic, and
were so much admired by the great
audience, which overflowed the large
lecture hall, that the word demon-
strative does not describe their
enthusiasm. But the lecture ! Descrip-
tion, experience, suffering, adventure,
courage, torrid heat, wild beasts,
poisonous insects, venomous serpents,
half-civilized peoples, thirst, — almost
enough of torture to justify the use of
Coleridge's Ancient Mariner in illustra-
tion,— and yet a perpetual, quiet,
rollicking, jubilant humor, all-pervad-
ing, and, at the close, on the lecturer's
return once more to the beginning of
civilization, the eloquent picture of the
Cross, "full high advanced," all com-
bined, made this lecture, to us, one of
the ver}^ few platform addresses entirely
worthy of the significance of unfading
portraiture. — C. C. Marble.

From col. Chi. Arad. Sciences.

MOUNTAIN BLUE BIRD.
ys Life-size.

Copvriglited li.v
Nature Study Pub. Co., lSt)7, Cliicitjjo

THE MOUNTAIN BLUEBIRD.

C^ FN an early number of Birds we
presented a picture of the com-
mon Bluebird, which has been
G>J I much admired. The mountain
Bluebird, whose beauty is
thought to excel that of his cousin, is
probably known to few of our readers
who live east of the Rocky Mountain
region, though he is a common winter
sojourner in the western part of Kan-
sas, beginning to arrive there the last
of September, and leaving in ]\Iarch and
April. The habits of these birds of
the central regions are very similar to
those of the eastern, but more wary
and silent. Even their love song is
said to be less loud and musical. It is
a rather feeble, plaintive, monotonous
warble, and their chirp and twittering
notes are weak. They subsist upon
the cedar berries, seeds of plants, grass-
hoppers, beetles, and the like, which
they pick up largely upon the ground,
and occasionally scratch for among
the leaves. During the fall and win-
ter they visit the plains and valleys,
and are usually met with in small
flocks, until the mating season.

Nests of the Mountain Bluebird
have been found in New Mexico and
Colorado, from the foothills to near
timber line, usually in deserted Wood-
pecker holes, natural cavities in trees,
fissures in the sides of steep rocky
cliffs, and, in the settlements, in suit-
able locations about and in the adobe
buildings. In settled portions of the
west it nests in the cornice of build-
ings, under the eaves of porches, in the
nooks and corners of barns and out-
houses, and in boxes provided for its
occupation. Prof. Ridgway found the
Rocky Mountain Bluebird nesting in
Virginia City, Nevada, in June. The
nests were composed almost entirely
of dry grass. In some sections, how-
ever, the inner bark of the cedar enters
largely into their composition. The
eggs are usually five, of a pale greenish-
blue.

The females of this species are dis-
tinguished by a greener blue color and
longer wings, and this bird is often
called the Arctic Bluebird. It is emphat-
ically a bird of the mountains, its vis-
its to the lower portions of the country
being mainly during winter.

Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ;
They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbits' tread.
The Robin and the Wren are flown, and from the shrubs the Jay,
And from the wood-top calls the Crow all through the gloomy day.

— Bryant.

205

THE ENGLISH SPARROW.

" Oh, it's just a common Spar-
row,'' I hear Bobbie say to his
mamma, '' why, I see lots of them
on the street every day."

Of course you do, but for all
that you know very little about
me I guess. Some people call
me "Hoodlum," and '^ Pest,"
and even ''Rat of the Air." I
hope you don't. It is only the
folks who don't like me that call
me ugly names.

AVhy don't they like me ?

Well, in the first place the city
people, who like fine feathers,
you know, say I am not pretty ;
then the farmers, who are not
grateful for the insects I eat, say
I devour the young buds and
vines as well as the ripened
grain. Then the folks who like
birds with fine feathers, and
that can sing like angels, such
as the Martin and the Bluebird
and a host of others, say I drive
them away, back to the forests
where they came from.

Do I do all these things?

I'm afraid I do. I like to
have my own way. Maybe you
know something about that your-
self, Bobbie. When I choose
a particular tree or place
for myself and family to live in,
I am going to have it if I have
to fight for it. I do chase the
other birds away then, to be
sure.

Oh, no, I don't always succeed.
Once I remember a Robin got
the better of me, so did a Cat-
bird, and another time a Balti-
more Oriole. When I can't
whip a bird myself I generally
give a call and a whole troop of
Sparrows will come to my aid.
My, how we do enjoy a fuss like
that!

A bully ? Well, yes, if by that
you mean I rule around my own
house, then I am a bully. My
mate has to do just as I say, and
the little Sparrows have to mind
their papa, too.

''Don't hurt the little darlings,
papa," says their mother, when it
comes time for them to fly, and
I hop about the nest, scolding
them at the top of my voice.
Then I scold her for daring to
talk to me, and sometimes make
her fly away while I teach the
young ones a thing or two.
Once in a while a little fellow
among them will "talk back."
I don't mind that though, ii he
is a Cock Sparrow and looks
like his papa.

No, we do not sing. We leave
that for the Song Sparrows. We
talk a great deal, though. In
the morning when we get up,
and at night when we go to bed
we chatter a great deal. Indeed
there are people shabby enough
to say that we are great nuis-
ances about that time.

206

■^/r i

.<■

ENGLISH SPARROW.
L fe-size.

Copyrighted bv
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1»97, Chicago.

THE ENGLISH SPARROW.

{^ HE English Sparrow was first
introduced into the United
States at Brooklyn, New York,
in the years 1851 and '52.
The trees in our parks were at that
time infested with a canker-worm,
which wrought them great injury, and
to rid the trees of these worms was the
mission of the English Sparrow.

In his native country this bird,
though of a seed-eating family (Finch),
was a great insect eater. The few
which were brought over performed,
at first, the duty required of them ;
they devoured the worms and stayed
near the cities. With the change of
climate, however, came a change in
their taste for insects. They made
their home in the country as well as
the cities, and became seed and
vegetable eaters, devouring the young
buds on vines and trees, grass-seed,
oats, rye, and other grains.

Their services in insect-killing are
still not to be despised. A single pair
of these Sparrows, under observation
an entire day, were seen to convey to
their young no less than forty grubs
an hour, an average exceeding three
thousand in the course of a week.
Moreover, even in the autumn he
does not confine himself to grain, but
feeds on various seeds, such as the
dandelion, the sow-thistle, and the
groundsel; all of which plants are
classed as weeds. It has been known,
also, to chase and devour the common
white b*utterfly, whose caterpillars
make havoc among the garden plants.
The good he may accomplish in
this direction, however, is nullified to
the lovers of the beautiful, by the war
he constantly wages upon our song
birds, destroying their young, and
substituting his unattractive looks and
inharmonious chirps for their beauti-
ful plumage and soul-inspiring songs.
Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller in " Bird
Ways " gives a fascinating picture of

the wooing of a pair of Sparrows in a
maple tree, within sight of her city
window, their setting up house-keep-
ing, domestic quarrel, separation, and
the bringing home, immediately after,
of a new bride by the Cock Sparrow.

She knows him to be a domestic
try ant, a bully in fact, self-willed and
violent, holding out, whatever the
cause of disagreement, till he gets his
own will ; that the voices of the females
are less harsh than the males', the
chatter among themselves being quite
soft, as is their " baby-talk " to the
young brood.

That they delight in a mob we all
know ; whether a domestic skirmish or
danger to a nest, how they will all
congregate,chirping, pecking, scolding,
and often fighting in a fierce yet amus-
ing way ! One cannot read these
chapters of Mrs. Miller's without agree-
ing with Whittier :

" Then, smiling to nijself, I said, —
How like are men and birds ! "

Although a hardy bird, braving the
snow and frost of winter, it likes a
warm bed, to which it may retire after
the toils of the day. To this end its
resting place, as well as its nest, is
always stuffed with downy feathers.
Tramp, Hoodlum, Gamin, Rat of the
Air ! Notwithstanding these more or
less deserved names, however, one can-
not view a number of homeless Spar-
rows, presumably the last brood, seek-
ing shelter in any corner or crevice
from a winter's storm, without a feel-
ing of deep compassion. The supports
of a porch last winter made but a cold
roosting place for three such wanderers
within sight of our study window, and
never did we behold them, 'mid a
storm of sleet and rain, huddle down
in their cold, ill-protected beds, with-
out resolving another winter should
see a home prepared for them.

209

ALLEN'S HUMMING BIRD.

(^ HE Huiiiiniiis^ birds, with their
varied beauties, constitute
the most remarkable feature
of the bird-life of America.
The)- ha\-e absolutely no representa-
tives in any other part of the world,
the Swifts being the nearest relatives
they have in other countries. Mr.
Forbes says that they abound most in
mountainous countries, where the sur-
face and productions of the soil are
most diversified within small areas.
The)' frequent both open and rare and
inaccessible places, and are often
found on the snowy peaks of Chim-
borazo as high as 16,000 feet, and in
the very lowest valleys in the primeval
forests of Brazil, the vast palm-covered
districts of the deltas of the Amazon
and Orinoco, the fertile flats and
sa\'annahs of Demarara, the luxuri-
ous and beautiful region of Xalapa,
(the realm of perpetual sunshine), and
other parts of INIexico. Many of the
highest cones of extinct and existing
volcanoes have also furnished great
numbers of rare species.

These birds are found as small as
a bumble bee and as large as a Spar-
row. The smallest is from Jamaica,
the largest from Patagonia.

Allen's Hummer is found on the
Pacific coast, north to British Colum-
bia, east to southern Arizona.

Mr. Langille, in " Our Birds in their
Haunts," beautifully describes their
flights and manner of feeding. He
says " There are many birds the flight
of which is so rapid that the strokes of
their wings cannot be counted, but here
is a species with such nerve of wing

that its wing strokes cannot be seen.
'A hazy semi-circle of indistinctness on
each side of the bird is all that is
perceptible.' Poised in the air, his
body nearly perpendicular, he seems to
hang in front of the flowers which he
probes so hurriedl)', one after the other,
with his long, slender bill. That long,
tubular, fork-shaped tongue may be
sucking up the nectar from those rather
small cylindrical blossoms, or it may
be capturing tiny insects housed away
there. Much more like a large sphynx
moth hovering and humming over
the flowers in the dusky twilight, than
like a bird, appears this delicate, fairy-
like beauty. How the bright green of
the body gleams and glistens in the
sunlight. Each imperceptible stroke
of those tiny wings conforms to the
mechanical laws of flight in all their
subtle complications with an ease and
gracefulness that seems spiritual. Who
can fail to note that fine adjustment of
the organs of flight to aerial elasticity
and gravitation, by which that astonish-
ing bit of nerv'ous energy can rise and
fall almost on the perpendicular, dart
from side to side, as if by magic, or,
assuming the horizontal position, pass
out of sight like a shooting star ? Is it
not impossible to conceive of all this
being done by that rational calculation
which enables the rower to row, or the
sailor to sail his boat ? "

" What heavenly tints in mingling radiance

fly.

Each rapid movement gives a different dye ;
Like scales of burnished gold they dazzling

show,
Now sink to shade, now like a furnace glow."

./■v

rom col. F. M. Woodruff.

ALLENS HUMMING BIRD.
Life-size.

Copvrightetl liv
Nature Study i'ub. Cn., 1897. Chicago.

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL.

Just a common Duck ?

No, I'm not. There is only one
other Duck handsomer than I am, and
he is called the Wood Duck. You
have heard something about him
before. I am a much smaller Duck,
but size doesn't count much, I find
when it comes to getting on in the
world — in our world, that is. I have
seen a Sparrow worry a bird four times
its size, and I expect you have seen a
little boy do the same with a big boy
many a time.

What is the reason I'm not a com-
mon Duck ?

Well, in the first place, I don't wad-
dle. I can walk just as gracefully as I
can swim. Your barn-yard Duck
can't do that. I can run, too, without
getting all tangled up in the grass, and
he can't do that, either. But some-
times I don't mind associating with
the common Duck. If he lives in a
nice big barn-yard, that has a good
pond, and is fed with plenty of grain,
I visit him quite often.

Where do I generally live ?

Well, along the edges of shallow,
grassy waters, where I feed upon
grass, seeds, acorns, grapes, berries, as
well as insects, worms, and small snails.
I walk quite a distance from the water
to get these things, too.

Can I fly ?

Indeed I can, and very swiftly. You
can see I am no common Duck when

I can swim, and walk, and fly. You
can't do the last, though you can the
first two.

Good to eat ?

Well, yes, they say when I feed on
rice and wild oats I am perfectly
delicious. Some birds were, you see,
born to sing, and flit about in the
trees, and look beautiful, while some
were born to have their feathers taken
off, and be roasted, and to look fine
in a big dish on the table. The
Teal Duck is one of those birds. You
see we are useful as well as pretty.
We don't mind it much if you eat us
and say, " what a fine bird ! " but
when you call us " tough, " that hurts
our feelings.

Good for Christmas ?

Oh, yes, or any other tnne — when
you can catch us ! We fly so fast that
that it is not easy to do ; and can dive
under the water, too, when wounded.

Something about our nests ?

Oh, they are built upon the ground,
in a dry tuft of grass and weeds and
lined with feathers. My mate often
plucks the feathers from her own
breast to line it. Sometimes she lays
ten eggs, indeed once she laid sixteen.

Such a family of Ducklings as we
had that year ! You should have seen
them swimming after their mother,
and all crying. Quack, quack^ quack !
like babies as they were.

213

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL.

HANDSOME little Duck
indeed is this, well known
to sportsmen, and very
abundant throughout
North America. It is
migratory in its habits, and nests from
jSIinnesota and New Brunswick north-
ward, returning southward in winter
to Central America and Cuba.

The green wing is commonly found
in small flocks along the edges of
shallow, grassy waters, feeding largely
upon seeds of grasses, small acorns,
fallen grapes or berries, as well as
aquatic insects, worms, and small snails.
In their search for acorns these ducks
are often found quite a distance from
the water, in exposed situations feeding
largely in the night, resting during
the day upon bogs or small bare spots,
closely surrounded and hidden by
reeds and grasses.

On land this Duck moves with more
ease and grace than any other of its
species except the Wood Duck, and it
can run with considerable speed. In
the water also it moves with great
ease and rapidity, and on the wing it
is one of the swiftest of its tribe. From
the water it rises with a single spring
and so swiftly that it can be struck
only by a very expert marksman ;
when wounded it dives readily.

As the Teal is more particular in
the selection of its food than are most
Ducks, its flesh, in consequence, is very
delicious. Audubon says that v/hen
this bird has fed on wild oats at Green
Bay, or soaked rice in the fields of
Georgia or Carolina, it is much supe-
rior to the Canvas back in tenderness,
juiciness, and flavor.

G. Arnold, in the Nidologist^ says
while traveling through the northwest
he was surprised to see the number of
Ducks and other wild fowl in close
proximity to the railway tracks. He
found a number of Teal nests with-

in four feet of the rails of the Canad-
ian Pacific in Manitoba. The warm,
sun-exposed banks along the railway
tracks, shrouded and covered with
thick grass, afford a very fair pro-
tection for the nests and eggs from
water and marauders of every kind.
As the section men seldom disturbed
them — not being collectors — the birds
soon learned to trust them and would
sit on their nests by the hour while the
men worked within a few feet of them.

The green-winged Teal is essentially
a fresh-water bird, rarely being metwith
near the sea. Its migrations are over
the land and not along the sea shore.
It has been seen to associate with the
Ducks in a farmer's yard or pond and
to come into the barnyard with tame
fowls and share the corn thrown out
for food.

The nests of the Teal are built upon
the ground, generally in dry tufts of
grass and often quite a distance from
the water. They are made of grass,
and weeds, etc., and lined with down.
In Colorado under a sage brush, a nest
was found which had been scooped in
the sand and lined warmly with down
evidently taken from the bird's own
breast, which was plucked nearly bare.
This nest contained ten eggs.

The number of eggs, of a pale buff
color, is usually from eight to twelve,
though frequently sixteen or eighteen
have been found. It is far more pro-
lific than any of the Ducks resorting
to Hudson's Bay, and Mr. Hearn says
he has seen the old ones swimming at
the head of seventeen young when the
latter were not much larger than wal-
nuts.

In autumn the males usually keep
in separate flocks from the females
and young. Their notes are faint and
piping and their wings make a loud
whistling during- flight.

214

THE BLACK GROUSE.

Alone on English moor's I've seen the Black Cock stray,
Sounding his earnest love-note on the air.

— Anon.

ELL known as the Black
Cock is supposed to be,
we fancy few of our read-
ers have ever seen a spec-
imen. It is a native of the more
southern countries of Europe, and still
survives in many portions of the British
Islands, especially those localities
where the pine woods and heaths afford
it shelter, and it is not driven away by
the presence of human habitation.

The male bird is known to resort at
the beginning of the nesting season to
some open spot, where he utters his
love calls, and displays his new dress
to the greatest advantage, for the pur-
pose of attracting as many females as
may be willing to consort with him.
His note when thus engaged is loud
and resonant, and can be heard at a
considerable distance. This crowing
sound is accompanied by a harsh,
grating, stridulous kind of cry which
has been compared to the noise pro-
duced by whetting a scythe. The
Black Cock does not pair, but leaves
his numerous mates to the duties of
maternity and follows his own desires
while they prepare their nests, lay
their eggs, hatch them, and bring up
the young. The mother bird, how-
ever, is a fond, watchful parent, and
when she has been alarmed by man or
a prowling beast, has been known to
remove her eggs to some other locality,
where she thinks they will not be
discovered.

The nest is carelessly made of grasses
and stout herbage, on the ground,
under the shelter of grass and bushes.

There are from six to ten eggs of yel-
lowish gray, with spots of light
brown. The young are fed first upon
insects, and afterwards on berries,
grain, and the buds and shoots of trees.

The Black Grouse is a wild and
wary creature. The old male which
has survived a season oi two is particu-
larly shy and crafty, distrusting both
man and dog, and running away as
soon as he is made aware of approach-
ing danger.

In the autumn the young males
separate themselves from the other sex
and form a number of little bachelor
establishments of their own, living
togetherinharmony until the next nest-
ing season, when they all begin to fall
in love ; " the apple of discord is
thrown among them by the charms of
the hitherto repudiated sex, and their
rivalries lead them into determined
and continual battles, which do not
cease until the end of the season
restores them to peace and sobriety."

The coloring of the female is quite
different from that of the male Grouse.
Her general color is brown, with a
tinge of orange, barred with black and
speckled with the same hue, the spots
and bars being larger on the breast,
back, and wings, and the feathers on
the breast more or less edged with
white. The total length of the adult
male is about twenty-two inches, and
that of the female from seventeen to
eighteen inches. She also weighs
nearly one-third less than her mate,
and is popularly termed the Heath
Hen.

217

THE AMERICAN FLAMINGO.

(jV'N this interesting family of birds
are included seven species, dis-
tributed throughout the tropics.
-,1 Five species are American, of

which one reaches our southern
border in Florida. Chapman says
that they are gregarious at all seasons,
are rarely found far from the seacoasts,
and their favorite resorts are shallow-
bays or vast mud flats which are
flooded at high water. In feeding the
bill is pressed downward into the
mud, its peculiar shape making the
point turn upward. The ridges along
its sides serve as strainers through
which are forced the sand and mud
taken in with the food.

The Flamingo is resident in the
United States only in the vicinity
of Cape Sable, Florida, where flocks
of sometimes a thousand of these
rosy Vermillion creatures are seen.
A wonderful sight indeed. ]\Ir. D.
P. Ingraham spent more or less
of his time for four seasons in the
West Indies among them. He states
that the birds inhabit the shallow
lagoons and bays having soft clayey
bottoms. On the border of these the
nest is made by working the clay up
into a moimd which, in the first
season is perhaps not more than a foot
high and about eight inches in
diameter at the top and fifteen inches

at the base. If the birds are unmo-
lested they will return to the same
nesting place from year to year, each
season augmenting the nest by the
addition of mud at the top, leaving a
slight depression for the eggs. He
speaks of visiting the nesting grounds
where the birds had nested the previous
year and their mound-like nests were
still standing. The birds nest in June.
The number of eggs is usually two,
sometimes only one and rarely three.
When three are found in a nest it is
generally believed that the third has
been laid by another female.

The stature of this remarkable bird
is nearly five feet, and it weighs in the
flesh six or eight pounds. On the
nest the birds sit with their long legs
doubled imder them. The old story
of the Flamingo bestriding its nest
in an ungainly attitude while sitting
is an absurd fiction.

The eggs are elongate-ovate in shape,
with a thick shell, roughened with a
white flakey substance, but bluish
when this is scraped off. It requires
thirty-two days for the eggs to hatch.

The very fine specimen we present
in Birds represents the Flamingo
feeding, the upper surface of the
unique bill, which is abruptly bent in
the middle, facing the ground.

2lS

^*wa,: s?^^ ir--j7ffw^^wffw?>?»'-*»' ■ ifrfl^-"^".

THE BIRDS OF BETHLEHEM.

I heard the bells of Bethlehem ring—

Their voice was sweeter than the priests';

I heard the birds of Bethlehem sing
Unbidden in the churchly feasts.

II.
They clung and swung on the swinging chain

High in the dim and incensed air :
The priest, with repetitions vain,

Chanted a never ending prayer.

III.
So bell and bird and priest I heard,

But voioe of bird was most to me —
It had no ritual, no word.

And yet it sounded true and free.

IV.

I thought child Jesus, were he there,
Would like the singing birds the best.

And clutch his little hands in air
And smile upon his mother's breast.

R. W. Gilder, in The Century.

223

THE BIRD'S STORY.

'' I once lived in a little house,

And lived there very v^ell ;
I thought the world was small and round,

And made of pale blue shell.

I lived next in a little nest,

Xor needed any other ;
I thought the world was made of straw.

And brooded by my mother.

One day I fluttered from the nest

To see what I could find.
I said : 'The world is made of leaves,

I have been very blind.'

At length T flew beyond the tree.
Quite fit for grown-up labors ;

I don't know how the world is made.
And neither do my neighbors."

224

From col. V. M

VERDIN.
Yo Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1897, CLicagi

THE VERDIN.

DAINTY little creature
indeed is the Yellow-headed
Bush Tit, or Verdin, being
smaller than the [largest
North American Hum-
ming Bird, which inhabits southern
Arizona and southward. It is a com-
mon bird in suitable localities through-
out the arid regions of Northern
Mexico, the southern portions of Texas,
Arizona, New Mexico, and in Lower
California. In spite of its diminutive
size it builds a remarkable structure
for a nest — large and bulky, and a
marvel of bird architecture. Davie
sa\s it is comparatively easy to find,
being built near the ends of the
branches of some low, thorny tree or
shrub, and in the numerous varieties

of cacti and thorny bushes which grow
in the regions of its home.

The nest is globular, flask-shaped or
retort shape in form, the outside being
one mass of thorny twigs and stems
interwoven, while the middle is com-
posed of flower-stems and the lining is
of feathers. The entrance is a small
circular opening. Mr. Atwater says
that the birds occupy the nests during
the winter months. They are gener-
ally found nesting in the high, dry
parts of the country, away from tall
timber, where the thorns are the
thickest. From three to six eggs are
laid, of a bluish or greenish-white or
pale blue, speckled, chiefly round the
larger end, with reddish brown.

" The woods were made for the hunters of dreams,

The brooks for the fishers of song.
To the hunters who hunt for the gunless game

The woods and the streams belong.
There are thoughts that moan from the soul of the pine.

And thoughts in the flower-bell curled,
And the thoughts that are blown from the scent of the fern

Are as new and as old as the world."

227

THE BRONZED CRACKLE.

Caw ! to tlie
girls. That
talking. My
harsh as his.
which some
quite sweet ;

You can call me the Crow
Blackbird, little folks, if you
want to. People generally call
me by that name.

I look something like the Crow
in the ^larch number of Birds,
don't I ? My dress is hand-
somer than his, though. Indeed
I am said to be a splendid look-
ing bird, my bronze coat show-
ing very finely in the trees.
The Crow said Caw^ Caw,

little boys and
was his way of

voice is not so
I have a note

people think is

then my thi'oat
gets rusty and I have some
trouble in finishing my tune. I
puft' out my feathers, spread my
wings and tail, then lifting
myself on the perch force out
the other notes of my song.
Maybe you have seen a singer
on the stage, instead of a perch,
do the same thing. Had to get
on his tip-toes to reach a high
note, you know.

Like the Crow I visit the corn-
fields, too. Li the spring when
the man with the plow turns
over the rich earth, I follow
after and pick up all the grubs
and insects I can find. They
would destroy the young corn
if I didn't eat them. Then,
wdien the corn grows up, I, my
sisters, and my cousins, and my
aunts drop down into the field in

great numbers. Such a picnic
as we do have ! The farmers
don't seem to like it, but cer-
tainly they ought to pay us for
our work in the spring, don't
you think ? Tlien I think
worms as a steady diet are not
good for anybody, not even a
Crow, do you ?

We like nuts, too, and little
crayfish which we find on the
edges of ponds. No little boy
among you can beat us in going
a-nutting.

AYe Crackles are a very
sociable family, and like to visit
about among our neighbors.
Then we hold meetings and all
of us try to talk at once. People
say we are very noisy at such
times, and complain a good deal.
They ought to think of their
own meetings. They do a great
deal of talking at such times, too,
and sometimes break up in a fight.

How do I know? AYell, a lit-
tle bird told me so.

Yes, we build our nest as other
birds do ; ours is not a dainty
affair ; any sort of trash mixed
with mud will do for the out-
side. The inside we line with
fine dry grass. 'My mate does
most of the work, while I do the
talking. That is to let the
Robin and other birds know I
am at home, and they better not
come around.

Yours,
Mr. Bronzed Crackle.

228

THE BRONZED GRACKLE.

First come the Blackbirds clatt'rin in tall trees,
And settlin' things in windy congresses,
Queer politicians though, for I'll be skinned
If all on 'em don't head against the wind.

— Lowell.

Y the more familiar name
of Crow Blackbird this
fine but unpopular bird is
known, unpopular among
the farmers for his depre-
dations in their cornfields, though the
good he does in ridding the soil, even
at the harvest season, of noxious
insects and grubs .should be set down
to his credit.

The Bronzed Grackle or Western
Crow Blackbird, is a common species
everywhere in its range, from the
Alleghanies and New England north
to Hudson Bay, and west to the Rocky
Mountains, It begins nesting in fav-
orable seasons as early as the middle
of March, and by the latter part of
April many of the nests are finished.
It nests anywhere in trees or bushes
or boughs, or in hollow limbs or
stumps at any height A clump of
evergreen trees in a lonely spot is a
favorite site, in sycamore groves along
streams, and in oak woodlands. It is
by no means unusual to see in the
same tree several nests, some saddled
on horizontal branches, others built in
large forks, and others again in holes,
either natural or those made by the
Flicker. A long list of nesting sites
might be given, including Martin-
houses, the sides of Fish Hawk's nests,
and in church spires, where the Black-
birds' " clatterin' '' is drowned by the
tolling bell.

The nest is a coarse, bulky affair,
composed of grasses, knotty roots
mixed with mud, and lined with fine
dry grass, horse hair, or sheep's wool.
The eggs are light greenish or smoky
blue, with irregular lines, dots and
blotches distributed over the surface.
The eggs average four to si.x, though
nests have been found containino- seven.

The Bronze Grackle is a bird of
many accomplishments. He does not
hop like the ordinary bird, but
imitates the Crow in his stately walk,
says one who has watched him with
interest. He can pick beech nuts,
catch Cray fish without getting nipped,
and fish for minnows alongside of any
ten -year- old. While he is flying
straight ahead you do not notice any-
thing unusual, but as soon as he turns
or wants to alight you see his tail
change from the horizontal to the
vertical — into a rudder. ' Hence he is
called keel-tailed.

The Grackle is as omnivorous as the
Crow or Blue Jay, without their sense
of humor, and whenever opportunity
offers will attack and eat smaller birds,
especially the defenseless young. His
own meet with the like fate, a fo.x
squirrel having been seen to emerge
from a hole in a large dead tree with
a young Blackbird in its mouth. The
Squirrel was attacked by a number
of Blackbirds, who were greatly
excited, but it paid no attention to
their demonstrations and scampered
off into the wood with his prey. Of
their quarrels with Robins and other
birds much might be written. Those
who wish to investigate their remark-
able habits will do well to read the acute
and elaborate observations of Mr.
Lyndes Jones, in a recent Bulletin of
Oberlin College. He has studied for
several seasons the remarkable Bronze
Grackle roost on the college campus
at that place, where thousands of these
birds congregate from year to year,
•and, though more or less offensive to
some of the inhabitants, add consid-
erably to the attractiveness of the
university town.

231

THE RING-NECKED PHEASANT.

1{ are fortunate in being
able to present onrreaders
with a genuine specimen
of the Ring-Necked spec-
ies of this remarkable family of birds,
as the Ring-Neck has been crossed
with the Mongolian to such an extent,
especially in many parts of the United
States, that they are practically the
same bird now. They are gradually
taking the place of Prairie Chickens,
which are becoming extinct. The
hen will hatch but once each year, and
then in the late spring. She will
hatch a covey of from eighteen to
twenty-two young birds from each set-
ting. The bird likes a more open
country than the quail, and nests only
in the open fields, although it will
spend much time roaming through
timberland. Their disposition is much
like that of the quail, and at the first
sign of danger they will rush into hid-
ing. They are handy and swift flyers
and runners. In the western states
they will take the place of the Prairie
Chicken, and in Ohio will succeed the
Quail and common Pheasant.

While they are hardy birds, it is said
that the raising of Mongolian-English
Ring-Necked Pheasants is no easy
task. The hens do not make
regular nests, but lay their eggs on the
ground of the coops, where they are
picked up and placed in a patent box,
which turns the eggs over daily.
After the breeding season the male
birds are turned into large parks until
February.

The experiment which is now being
made in Ohio — if it can be properly so
termed, thousands of birds having been
liberated and begun to increase — has
excited wide-spread interest. A few
years ago the Ohio Fish and Game
Commission, after hearing of the great
success of Judge Denny, of Portland,
Oregon, in rearing these birds in that

state, decided it would be time and
money well spent if they should devote
their attention and an ''appropriation"
to breeding and rearing these attractive
eame birds. And the citizens of that
state are taking proper measures to see
that they are protected. Recently
more than two thousand Pheasants
were shipped to various counties of the
state, where the natural conditions are
favorable, and where the commission
has the assurance that the public will
organize for the purpose of protecting
the Pheasants. A law has been enacted
forbidding the killing of the birds
until November 15, 1900. Two hun-
dred pairs liberated last year increased
to over two thousand. When not
molested the increase is rapid. If the
same degree of success is met with
between now and 1900, with the strict
enforcement of the game laws, Ohio
will be well stocked with Pheasants in
a few years. They will prove a great
benefit to the farmers, and will more
than recompense them for the little
grain they may take from the fields in
destroying bugs and insects that are
now agents of destruction to the grow-
ing crops.

The first birds were secured by Mr.
E. H. Shorb, of Van Wert, Ohio, from
Mr. Verner De Guise, of Rahway, N. J.
A pair of ^Mongolian Pheasants, and a
pair of English Ring-Necks were
secured from the Wyandache Club,
Smithtown, L. I. These birds were
crossed, thus producing the English
Ring - Neck Mongolian Pheasants,
which are larger and better birds, and
by introducing the old English Ring-
Neck blood, a bird was produced that
does not wander, as the thoroughbred
Mongolian Pheasant does.

Such of our readers as appreciate
the beauty ;and quality of this superb
specimen will no doubt wish to have
it framed for the embellishment of the
dininof room.

232

BIRD MISCELLANY.

Knowledge never learned of schools
Of the wild bee's morning chase,
Of the wild-flowers' time and place,
Flight of fowl and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood ;
How the tortoise bears his shell ;
How the woodchuck digs his cell
And the ground-mole makes his well ;
How the robin feeds her young ;
How the oriole's nest is hung.

— Whittier.

Consider the marvellous life of a bird and the manner of its whole
existence. . . . Consider the powers of that little mind of which the inner light
flashes from the round bright eye ; the skill in building its home, in finding its
food, in protecting its mate, in ser\-ing its offspring, in preserving its own
existence, surrounded as it is on all sides by the most rapacious enemies. . . .

When left alone it is such a lovely little life— cradled among the hawthorn
buds, searching for aphidse amongst apple blossoms, drinking dew from the
cup of a lily ; awake when the gray light breaks in the east, throned on the
topmost branch of a tree, swinging with it in the sunshine, flying from it
through the air ; then the friendly quarrel with a neighbor over a worm or
berry ; the joy of bearing grass-seed to his mate where she sits low down amongst
the docks and daisies; the triumph of singing the praise of sunshine or of moon-
light ; the merry, busy, useful days ; the peaceful sleep, steeped in the scent of
the closed flower, with head under one wing and the leaves forming a green
roof above.

— OUIDA.

235

THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT.

I am often heard, but seldom
seen. If 1 were a little boy or a
little girl, grown people would
me I tell should be seen and not
heard. That's the difference
between you and a bird like me,
you see.

It would repay you to make
my acquaintance. I am such a
jolly bird. Sometimes I get all
the dogs in my neighborhood
howling by whistling just like
their masters. Another time I
mew like a cat, then again I give
some soft sweet notes different
from those of any bird you ever
heard.

In the spring, when my mate
and I begin housekeeping, I do
some very funny things, like the
clown in a circus. I feel so
happy that I go up a tree branch
by branch, by short flights and
jumps, till I get to the very top.
Then I launch myself in the air,
as a boy dives when he goes
swimming, and you would laugh
to see me flirting my tail, and
dangling my legs, coming down
into the thicket by odd jerks and
motions.

It really is so funny that I
burst out laughing myself, say-
ing, chatter -chatter ^ chat- chat- chat-
chat I I change my tune some-
times, and it sounds like y^ho
who^ and tea-hoy.

You must be cautious though,
if you want to see me go through

my performance. Even when I
am doing those funny things in
the air I have an eye out for
my enemies. Should I see you
I would hide myself in the
bushes and as long as you were
in sight I would be angry and
say chut^ chut! as cross as
could be.
Have I any other name ?

Yes, I am called the Y^ellow
Mockingbird. But that name
belongs to another. His picture
was in the June number of Birds,
so you know something about
him. They say I imitate other
birds as he does. But I do
more than that. I can throw my
voice in one place, while I am in
another.

It is a great trick, and I get
lots of sport out of it.

Do you know what that trick
is called ? If not ask your
papa. It is such a long word I
am afraid to use it.

About my nest ?

Oh, yes, I am coming to that.
I arrive in this country about
May 1, and leave for the south
in the winter. My nest is noth-
ing to boast of ; rather big, made
of leaves, bark, and dead twigs,
and lined with fine grasses and
fibrous roots. My mate lays
eggs, white in color, and our
little ones are, like their papa,
' very handsome.

236

From col. F. M. Woodruff YELLOW -BREASTED CHAT

CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO. 1 y -r ■ j:- ■

y{. Life-size.

Copvriglited by
NatuiP .Stuily Pub. Co., 1897, Cbicago.

THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT.

COMMON name for this
bird, the largest of the warb-
lers, is the Yellow Mocking-
bird. It is found in the
eastern United States,
north to the Connecticut Valley and
Great Lakes ; west to the border of the
Great Plains ; and in winter in eastern
Mexico and Guatemala. It frequents
the borders of thickets, briar patches,
or wherever there is a low, dense
growth of bushes — the thornier and
more impenetrable the better.

"After an acquaintance of many
years," says Frank M. Chapman, "I
frankly confess that the character of
the Yellow -Crested Chat is a mystery
to me. While listening to his strange
medley and watching his peculiar
actions, we are certainly justified in
calling him eccentric, but that there
is a method in his madness no one wdio
studies him can doubt.'"

By many observers this bird is
dubbed clown or harlequin, so peculiar
are his antics or somersaults in the air;
and by others " mischief maker,"
because of his ventriloquistic and
imitating powers, and the variety of his
notes. In the latter direction he is
surpassed only by the Mockingbird.

The mewing of a cat, the barking of
a dog, and the whistling sound pro-
duced by a Duck's wings when flying,
though much louder, are common
imitations with him. The last can
be perfectly imitated by a good
whistler, bringing the bird instantly to
the spot, where he will dodge in and
out among the bushes, uttering, if the
whistling be repeated, a deep toned
emphatic tac^ or hollow, resonant
vicoiv.

In the mating season he is the nois-
iest bird in the woods. At this time
he may be observed in his wonderful
aerial evolutions, dangling his legs
and flirting his tail, singing vocifer-

ously the while — a sweet song differ-
ent from all his jests and jeers — and
descending by odd jerks to the thicket.
After a few weeks he abandons these
clown-like maneuvers and becomes a
shy, suspicious haunter of the depths
of the thicket, contenting himself in/
taunting, teasing, and misleading, by
his variety of calls, any bird, beast, or
human creature within hearing.

All these notes are uttered with
vehemence, and with such strange and
various modulations as to appear near
or distant, in the manner of a ventril-
oquist. In mild weather, during
moonlight nights, his notes are heard
regularly, as though the performer
were disputing with the echoes of his
own voice.

" Perhaps I ought to be ashamed to
confess it," says Mr. Bradford Torrey,
after a visit to the Senate and House
of Representatives at Washington,
" but after all, the congressman in
feathers interested me most. I thought
indeed, that the Chat might well
enough have been elected to the lower
house. His volubility and waggish
manners would have made him quite
at home in that assembly, while his
orange colored waistcoat would have
given him an agreeable conspicuity.
I3ut, to be sure, he would have needed
to learn the use of tobacco."

The nest of the Chat is built in a
thicket, usually in a thorny bush or
thick vine five feet above the ground.
It is bulky, composed exteriorly of dry
leaves, strips of loose grape vine bark,
and similar materials, and lined with
fine grasses and fibrous roots. The
eggs are three to five in number, glossy
white, thickly spotted with various
shades of rich, reddish brown and
lilac ; some specimens however have
a greenish tinge, and others a pale
pink.

239

SUMMARY.

Page 203.

MOUNTAIN BLUEBIRD.— Sialia ardica.
Other names: "Rocky Mountain" and
"Arctic Bluebird."

Range — Rocky Mountain region, north to
Great Slave Lake, south to Mexico, west to the
higher mountain ranges along the Pacific.

Xest — Placed in deserted Woodpecker holes,
natural cavities of trees, nooks and corners of
barns and outhouses ; composed of dry grass.

Eggs — Commonly five, of pale, plain greenish
blue.

Page 2r 8.

ENGLISH SPARKOW— Passer domesticus.
Other names: "European Sparrow," "House
Sparrow."

Range— Southern Europe. Introduced into
and naturalized in North America, Australia,
and other countries.

Nest— Of straw and refuse generally, in
holes, boxes, trees, any place that will aflFord
protection.

Eggs — Five to seven.

Page 211.

ALLEN'S HUMMING B'&Xi—Selasphorus
alien i.

Raxge — Pacific coast, north to British Colum-
bia, east to southern Arizona.

Nest — Plant down, covered with lichens.

Eggs — Two, white.

Page 215.

GREEN- WINGED TEAL.— Anas caroli-
nensjs.

Range — North America, migrating south to
Honduras and Cuba.

Nest — On the ground, in a thick growth
of grass.

Eggs — Five to eight, greenish-buflF, usually
oval.

Page 220.

BLACK GROUSE— 7V/rao letrix. Other
name: " Black Cock. "

Range — Southern Europe and the British
Islands.

Nest — Carelessly made, of grasses and stout
herbage, on the ground.

Eggs — Six to ten, of yellowish gray, with
spots of light brown.

Page 221.

AMERICAN ELAMmGO.—Phfjenicoplerus
ruber.

Range. — Atlantic coasts of sub-tropical and
tropical America ; Florida Keys.

Nest — Mass of earth , sticks, and other
material scooped up to the height of several feet
and hollow at the top.

Eggs. — One or two, elongate-ovate in shape,
with thick shell, roughened with a white flakey
substance, but bluish when this is scraped off.
Page 226.

VERDIN. — Auriparus flaviceps. Other
name : " Yellow-headed Bush Tit."

Range — Northern regions of Mexico and
contiguous portions of the United States, from
southern Texas to Arizona and Lower California.

Nest — Globular, the outside being one mass
of thorny twigs and stems interwoven, and
lined with feathers.

EGG.S — Three to six, of a bluish or greenish
white color, speckled with reddish brown.
Page 230.

BRONZED CRACKLE.- (?z/wa/7« quiscula
ceneus.

Range — Eastern North America from the
Alleghanies and New England north to Hudson
Bay, west to the Rocky Mountains.

Nest — In sycamore trees and oak woodlands
a coarse bulky structure of grasses, knotty roots,
mixed with mud, lined with horse hair or wool.

Eggs — Four to six, of a light greenish or
smoky-blue, with lines, dots, blotches and
scrawls on the surface.

Page 233.

RING-NECKED PHEASANT— /%a^m««5
iorqualus.

Range — Throughout China ; have been
introduced into England and the United States.

Nest — On the ground under bushes.

Eggs — Vary, from thirteen to twenty.
Page 238.

YELLOW - BREASTED CHAT. — Ideria
virens.

R.ange — Eastern United States to the Great
Plains, north to Ontario and southern New
England ; south in winter through eastern
Mexico to Northern Central America.

Nest — In briar thickets from two to five feet
up, of withered leaves, dry grasses, strips of
bark, lined with finer grasses.

Eggs — Three or four, white, with a glossy
surface.

240

VOLUME I. JANUARY TO JUNE, 1897.

INDEX.

Birds, The Return of the pages loi

Bird Song • 187-8

Bird Day in the Schools 123-124

Birds and Farmers 213

Black Bird, Red-winged, Agelaeus Phoeniceus 64-68-69-7 1

Blue Bird, Sialia Sialis " 75-76-78-86

Bobolink, Dolichonyx Oryzivorus " 93-96—97

Bunting, Indigo, Passerina Cyanea " 172-3

Catbird, Galeoscoptes Carolinensis 183—4—6

Chickadee, Black-capped, Pi2r«j y3/rzira////«j • 164-5-7

Cock of the Rock • 19-21

Crossbill, American, Loxia Curvirostra '• 128-130

Crow, American, Corviis Americanus ........ " 90—91—94

Duck, Mandarin, A. Galericulata ;■ 8-9-1 1

Flicker, Colaptes Auratus " 99—100

Fly-catcher, Scissor-tailed, Milvulus Forficatus " 161-3

Gallinule, Purple, lonornis Martinica '• 120-1

Grebe, Pied-billed, Podilymbus Podiceps " 136-7-8

Grosbeak, Rose-breasted, //a<5/a Zz^^i?7/z'«a;/(2 " 11 3-1 15

Grouse, Ruffed, Bonasa Umbellus •' 218-220-221

Gull, Ring-billed, Lams Delawarensis <, . . " 198-199

Halo, The " 150

Hawk, Marsh, Circus Hudsonius " 158—159

Hawk, Night, Chordeiles Virginianiis " 175-6-8

Heron, Black-crowned, Nycticorax Nycticorax Naevius . . ' 196-7

Jay, American Blue, Cyanocitta Cnstata 38-39-41

Jay, Arizona Green, Xanthoura Liixuosa 146-148

Jay, Canada, Pirisoreus Canadensis 116-18-19

Kingfisher, American, Ceryle Alcyon • 60-62-63

Lark, Meadow, Sturnella Magna •• 105-7-8

Longspur, Smith's, Calcat-ius Pictus " 125-127

Lory, Blue Mountain . . " 66-67

Love for Animals '' 124

Mocking Bird, Americar, Mimus Polyglottos pages 192-193-201

Mot Mot, Mexican " 49*51

Nesting Time " 149-150

Nonoareil, Passerina Ciris " i-^-ij

Oriole, Baltimore, Icterus Galbula " 205-6-7

Oriole, Golden, Icterus Icterus " 34-36-37

Oriole, Orchard, Icterus Spurius " 154-5

Owl, Long-eared, Asia Wilsonianus *' 109-111-112

Owl, Screech, Megascops Asio " 15 1-3-7

Owl, Snowy, Nyctea Nivea " 209-2 10-2 11

Paradise, Red Bird of, Paradisea Rubra " 22-24-25

Parrakeet, Australian " 16-18

Parrot, King " 50-56

Pheasant, Golden, P. Pictus " 12-13

Pheasant, Japan " 87-88

Red Bird, American, Cardinalis Cardinalis " 72-74

Robin, American, Merula Migratoria " 53-4-7-9

Roller, Swallow-tailed, Indian " 42-44

Shrike, Loggerhead, Lanius Ludovicianus " 202-203

Swallow, Barn, Chelidon Eryihrogaster " 79-81

Tanager, Red-rumped, Tanagrida; " 30-32-33

Tanager, Scarlet, Piranga Erythromelas ....... '* 2 14-2 16-2 17

Tern, Black, Ilydrochelidon Ingra Surinamensis .... " 103-104

Thrush, Brown, Harporhynchus Rufus " 82-83-84

Thrush, Wood, Turdus Mustelimis " 179-180-184

Toucan, Yellow-throated, Ramphastos " 26-28-29

Trogon, Resplendent, Tr^^t?^/^^ " 4-5-7

Vireo, Yellow-throated, Vireo Flavifrons " 189-191

Warbler, Black-and-white Creeping, Mniotilta Varia . . " 222-224

Warbler, Prothonotary, Protonotaria Citrea « 1 68-1 69-1 71

Wax Wing, Bohemian, Ampelis Garrulus " 1 40-1 41

Woodpecker, QaWiormSi, Mela^terpes Formicivorus Bairdi . . " 131-133-134

Woodpecker, Red-headed, Melayierpes Erythroce'phalus . . " 45-46-47

Wren, Long-billed Marsh, Cistothorus Palustris « 142-143-145

VOLUME n. JULY TO DECEMBER, 1897.

INDEX.

Anhinga, or Snake Bird, Anhinga Anhinga pages

Avocet, American, Reciirvirostra Americana

Audubon, John James

Birds of Bethlehem

Bird Song

Birds in Captivity

Birds of Passage

Bird Miscellany ■

Blue Bird, Mountain, SiaLia arctica

Bunting, Lazuli, Passerina amoena

Chimney Swift, Chtetura pelagica

Captive's Escape

Chat, Yellow- Breasted, Icteria virens

Cuckoo, Yellow-Billed, Coccyzus americamis

Dove, Mourning, Zenaidiira macrura

Duck, Canvas-back, Athya valisneria

Duck, Mallard, Anas boschas

Duck, Wood, Aix Sponsa

Eagle, Baldheaded, Halicetiis lencocephalus

Flamingo, Phcenicopterus ruber

Flycatcher, Vermillion, Pyrocephahts rubineus mexicanus . .

Gold Finch, American, Spiniis tristis ,

Goose, White-fronted, Anser albifrons gambeli

Grackle, Bronzed, Quiscalus qidscula

Q,rQ)s\>^2}^^^VQmn%, Cocothraustes vespertina • •

Grouse, Black, Tetrao tetrix

Heron, Snowy, Ardea candidissinia

How the Birds Secured Their Rights

Humming Bird, Allen's Selasphoriis alleni

Humming Bird, Ruby-Throated, Trochilns coliibris ....

J unco, Slate Colored, Junco hyemalis

Kingbird, Tyratinus tyrannus

Kingfisher, European, Alcedo ispida

Kinglet, Ruby-crowned, Regtdiis calendtda

Lark, Horned, Otocoris alpestris

Lost Mate

26-27

14-15
161

223

1-41-81

121

195-235
203-205
196-198-199

131-^33

116

236-238-239

94-95

111-112-113

18-20

10-11-13

21-23-24

2-3-5
218-221

192-193

1 28-1 29-1 30

166-168-169

228-230-231

68-70-71

217-220-223

38-39

115

2 1 0-2 1 1

97-100-103

153-155

156-158-159
I 88-1 90-1 9 I
108-110

134-135
126

Merganser, Red-Breasted, Merganser serrator pages 54-55

Nuthatch, White-Breasted, 5///« <:«r^//«^«^/j « 118-11Q

Old Abe u

Ornithological Congress u ^oi

0?,^x^y ^ Km^TiCd^n, Pmidion palifftus carolinenses " 4 2-4 ^-4 S

Partridge, Gambel's, Ca//i!>//« ^^w^f"// a 78-70

Phalarope, Wilson's, Phalaropus tricolor <' 66-6-

Pheasant, Ringnecked, /%«^/,«:w/^ /^r^/^a//^j « 2^2-2^^

^\\<:^\i^^ Sayornis phcBbe a 106-107

^'^o\^x,^€i\.^^V\^m^^ Aegialitis meloda circumcincta. ... " 174-175

Plover, Seniipalmated Ring, Aegialitis semi-polmata .... " 6-8-9

Rail, Sora, Porzana Carolina .... "^/=;.q.^

46-48-49

Sapsucker, Yellow-bellied, Sphyrapicns varius " 137-140-14^

Scoter, American, 6>/^^w^« ^^'^/«;/^/ u 'i2-x\

Skylark, Alauda arvetisis u 6t-6^-6

Snake Bird, (Anhinga) Anhinga anhinga u 26-27

Snowflake, Plectrophenax nivalis u ico-iqi-ic2

Sparrow, English, Passer domestiais a 206-208-209

Sparrow, Song, Melospiza fasciata u 00-91-0^

Summaries " a o

40-80-120-

160-200-240

Tanager, Summer, Piranga rubra u 16^-1 6 c

Teal, Green winged, y4««j ^«r^/z>z^;zj-z.y ... ,, ot-,ot^ot^

The Bird's Story. . . . ': ".'.'.".* - 22 ^^ ^

Thrush, Hermit, Tjirdns Aonalaschkae u 86-88-80

To a Water Fowl *. ' ' * " 5

Tropic Bird, Yellow-billed, /%^^/^^«/«z//r^^^m «' 1 84-1 86-1 8-

Turkey, Wild, i]/^/m^m^^«//^^^,,« ...'.".' " 177-180-18^

Turnstone, Arenaria inter pres ' u

-^ 170— 171

Verdin, Auriparus flaviceps u ^__

Vireo, Warbling, Fireo gilvus n 8-

Vulture, Turkey, (7«//z«m/a ^/rrt/« . , • • • • W^^^

72-73-75

Warbler, Blackburnian, Z?^«^mV« ^/ary^^^^r;//^ .c 12^5-1 21;

Warbler, Cerulean, Dendra^ca caer^dea ' " ' c; 178-181

Warbler, Kentucky, Geothlypis formosa ' ^ ro-rj-r:.

Warbler, Yellow, Dendroica cestiva . . . '« L_8

Woodcock, American, Philohela irdnor \\ u 38-^0-

Wren, House, Troglodytes cedon ' * ' u gg-i^^^

Wood Pewee, Contopus Vtrens • u ^

' 144-146-

Yellow Legs, Totamis flavipes u -o_^

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