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 A /APPLIED IN/MGE Ir 
 
 ^^ 1653 East Main Street 
 
 S^S Rochester, New York 14609 USA 
 
 '-^ (716) *82 - 0300 - Phone 
 
 ^S (716) 288- 5989 -Fax 
 
Bird World 
 
 A BIRD BOOK FOR CHILDREN 
 
 BY 
 
 J. H. STICKNEY 
 
 ASSIiiTKD BV 
 
 RALPH HOFFMANN 
 
 BOSTON U S.A. 
 GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 
 
 Cbe Stbnuram |)rest 
 1902 
 
I 
 
 iP^mp 
 
 CorvHir.HT, i8q8 
 By GINN & COMPANY 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESKHVBD 
 
■« 
 
 TO ITS PUBLISHERS AMU BSPECIALLV TO 
 
 Ar. 5u0tin W. Smttb 
 
 VNtJER WHOSE AUSPICES IT WAS BEGUN 
 
 AND TO WHOSE KINDNESS AND COUNSEL I OWE SO MUCH 
 
 THIS LITTLE BOOK IS DEDICATED 
 
 AS A TOKEN OF GRATITUDE AND REGARD 
 

 
^mm. 
 
 P K K F A C E. 
 
 TT may be of interest to some of our readers to know under 
 what guidance ihey are to make this little journey i to the 
 f^orders of Bird World. 
 
 First, then, the plan and direction come from the author 
 of some books they have known as the Stick'-ey Readers. It 
 may be thought worth while to ventuic on this new pleasure 
 trip under the same leadership. 
 
 Second, a gentleman has been found to act as special 
 
 inductor, — one who has lived closer to Bird World than any 
 us. For years he has known by sight and sound all our 
 New England birds, and many, if not most, of our chance 
 summer and winter visitors, beside having particularly intimate 
 acquaintance with some which we too shall be glad to »»--^et. 
 A number of the stories which follow are based upon his own 
 personal observations. You will find his name upon ti .■ title 
 page. He is a director in the Audubon Society for the Pro- 
 tection of Birds, which makes it certain that the citizens of 
 Bird World are as safe in his hands as are we. You have thus 
 the combined powers of two who are both friends of young 
 people and of birds. 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A third point of interest lies in having true portraits of 
 birds by the distinguished artist, Mr. Ernest Seton Thompson, for 
 which you must thank our generous publishers, as also for the 
 color photographs which help us to see better how the living 
 birds we are arning to recognize really look. A number of 
 other kindnesses have helped us to make this book attractive 
 and instructive. The use of drawings by Mr. Ridgway was 
 most kindly allowed us by Dr. Merriam, of the Department of 
 Agriculture, at Washington. Other sketches were made for us 
 by Mr. Knobel, and by arrangement with the publishers of the 
 Ospr^ we have the use of several attractive portraits and 
 sketches. For the use of the Snowy Egret we are indebted to 
 
 Miss S. J. Eddy. 
 
 We also express our obligation to visitors we have met in 
 Bird World, some of whose names occur in our record, for bits 
 of testimony and song. In return we commend the books they 
 have given to the world to be read when this " younger book " 
 has prepared you for them. Among them are : Birds of Village 
 and Field, Miss Florence Merriam ; Citizen Bird, Mrs. Mabel 
 Osgood Wright ; Winter Neighbors, Neltjo TManchan ; Bird Life, 
 F. A. Chapman ; and the writings of Mrs. Olive Thome Miller. 
 
 P" 
 
 fe.- >^4r>6>'«..;.J&S^^- 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Goldfinch 
 
 The Phoe!)e » . 
 
 Verses 
 
 The Robin 
 
 The Oriole 
 
 Heralds of the Summer . . 
 
 The Bluebird 
 
 The Coming of the Birds . . 
 
 The Indigo Bird 
 
 The Story of a Grouse . . . , 
 
 Bird Acquaintance 
 
 Bills of Fare 
 
 Gull Dick 
 
 Verses 
 
 The Owl . . . 
 
 The Scarlet Tanager . . . . 
 
 The Politest Bird 
 
 A Family of Backwoodsmen . 
 The Downy Woodpecker . 
 
 The Flicker 
 
 The Sapsucker 
 
 A Second Sparrow Study 
 The Song Sparrow and the 
 Chipping Sparrow . . . . 
 How Birds Pass the Night 
 
 The Blue Jay 
 
 Bird Homes 
 
 THe Nest as ars Hvei-: 
 
 TAGS 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 6 
 
 7 
 II 
 
 '3 
 '5 
 i8 
 
 >9 
 
 21 
 
 24 
 26 
 29 
 30 
 31 
 36 
 
 37 
 40 
 
 41 
 44 
 47 
 49 
 
 51 
 
 54 
 56 
 
 58 
 
 59 
 
 The Kingbird 5, 
 
 The Warbler Family 
 A Clever Wren ; , 
 
 Audubon 
 Wren 
 The Wren . 
 At the Bath . 
 The Catbird 
 
 Verses . 
 Nest Builders 
 The Swallows 
 
 Verses . 
 
 and the House 
 
 67 
 68 
 
 69 
 70 
 
 73 
 75 
 78 
 
 79 
 84 
 
 85 
 
 The Barn Swallow }J6 
 
 The Red- winged Blaokbird . 
 
 About Birds' Toes 
 
 Bob White 
 
 Audubon and the Phoebes . . 
 
 How Young Birds Get Fed . . 
 
 Food of Birds 
 
 When a Bird Changes his Clothes 
 
 A Bird in the Hand 106 
 
 Bird Passports i , , 
 
 The Bird of Many Names . 
 
 The Bobolink 
 
 Gypsy Birds ,2^ 
 
 Foster- Mothers ,23 
 
 Two Father Birds 125 
 
 Bom in a Boat 128 
 
 89 
 
 9' 
 
 95 
 98 
 
 99 
 
 100 
 
 '03 
 
 "7 
 119 
 
 rjmi..m^M^. "i^irM?:J-m?K;?T2ss*: 
 
Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 How the Wood Duck Gets her 
 
 Young to the Water . . .13° 
 The Great Caravan Route • 13' 
 Bird World in Winter . ■ ■ • I3S 
 Bird Lodgings in Winter . . .138 
 
 Verses '39 
 
 The Eagle '40 
 
 The Chickadee U' 
 
 A Bird- Paradise '42 
 
 Versea '43 
 
 The Sea-Gull '44 
 
 A Great Traveler '45 
 
 The Redstart '5° 
 
 The Humming Bird '5' 
 
 As Free as a Bird '55 
 
 PAGB 
 
 To the Great and General Court 
 
 of Massachusetts ' 5^ 
 
 Thirds' Enemies '62 
 
 Families in Bird World .... 169 
 
 Feathers and Flight t72 
 
 Flight '78 
 
 The Snowy Egret »8o 
 
 The Wood Thrush «83 
 
 The Brown Thrush '84 
 
 Hawks ., '86 
 
 Bird Language '9° 
 
 Some Strange Bird Music . • .193 
 
 Bird Bills '95 
 
 Appendix '99 
 
 Index 212 
 
 ! 
 
 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS AND COLORED PICTURES. 
 
 A Pair of Goldfinches . . . 
 
 Robin colored 
 
 Oriole 
 
 Yellow Warbler . • 
 Bluebird 
 
 Owl " 
 
 Scarlet Tanager . . " 
 
 Cedar Bird . • • • " 
 Downy Woodpecker . " 
 Tl.e Song Sparrow . . . . 
 A Pair of Kingbirds . . . . 
 
 PAGB 
 I 
 
 • 9 
 
 12 
 
 • '3 
 
 . 16 
 
 •.3 
 
 • 36 
 
 • 37 
 
 • 40 
 
 • 5' 
 . 64 
 
 Thrushes 
 
 PAGB 
 
 • 67 
 . 84 
 . 96 
 . 100 
 . 136 
 
 Louisiana Water 
 
 A Happy Pair 
 
 Part of a Quail Family . . . ■ 
 
 Black-throated Green Warblers . 
 
 Winter life 
 
 Herring Gulls and their Nesting 
 
 Places 
 
 Thfe Redstart 
 
 A Pair of Orioles « 5^ 
 
 A Useful Hawk ....•• 188 
 The Wood Thrush »92 
 
 144 
 150 
 
 ?^«^S5^i^JSi?r^MPS* 
 
!t-';.. 
 
 fwm^s^;^^m':i^^.wms- . 
 
A PAIR OF GOLDFINCHES. 
 
 '^m^^mi^w^M^^' i^'m-'f^^^sr, ,^.>% 
 
 r*^>. ..■M--J^^\.iiMSiM 
 
BIRD WORLD. 
 
 ^t^K" 
 
 THE GOLDFINCH. 
 
 SINCE there must be a first bird for us to meet in 
 this long visit we are to make together in Bird 
 World, and some of us have to choose which one, sup- 
 pose we let it be the pretty confiding Goldfinch, 
 who with his mate shall stand upon the threshold to 
 
 receive us. 
 
 This old pasture where little grows but weeds and 
 thistles is a favorite place with the Goldfinches. 
 Thistlebird is one of the names by which they are 
 known. There is no merrier bird than the Goldfinch. 
 He spends the pleasantest part of the year, the spring 
 months, when other birds are busiest, singing and 
 enjoying the sunshine. When winter comes, instead 
 of leaving us he sta- with a hapny company of friends, 
 feeding on weeds t stand above the snow, twitter- 
 ing and calling sweetly to his companions. It is not 
 strange, then, that the Goldfinch has many friends and 
 no enemies. 
 
2 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 The little Goldfinches are cradled in the softest of 
 silk— nothing lf.>s than thistledown. With thi** the 
 mother lines the nest, which is generally built late in 
 June, when thistles have begun to ripen. The thistle 
 is a good friend to the Goldfinch, for its seeds are a 
 favorite food. 
 
 When the little Goldfinches leave the nest, they are 
 by no means as brightly colored as their father. No 
 canary-colored vest or black cap is provided for them, 
 but very sober brownish suits. When April comes 
 again, you will see some of them looking a little 
 brighter, and in a few weeks they will come into as 
 bright plumage as their father. The others, the 
 females, still keep the darker color, like their mother. 
 
 The Goldfinch flies in great curves, and as he goes 
 dov.nward he begins a pretty little twitter which he 
 finishes on the upward curve. Through the wide air, 
 over fields and farms, he swings along with his bright 
 " De-rt'^^-de, de-rt^^-de, de-rt'^-^-de." Not the coldest or 
 wettest weather can make him utter a complaining 
 note. Perhaps you know some boy or girl who is 
 cheerful and lively all the day and all the year. 
 
 _ ..J^ 
 
THE PHCEBE. 
 
 MEAR Boston there is a little stream celebrated by 
 A ^ an American poet who loved birds. It is called 
 Beaver Brook, and the 
 scenery abc t it is so 
 beautiful that, partly by 
 gift and partly by pur- 
 chase, a large tract of 
 land has been set apart 
 for a Park, or Reserva- 
 tion as it is called, so 
 that its beauty can be 
 preserved and people be 
 free to visit it whenever 
 they wish. 
 
 At the head of the 
 brook are two ponds, and between the two is a little 
 bridge under which the water all the ysar rushes 
 foaming and splashing. When the poet Lowell used 
 to visit the brook, there was a mill at this spot, and 
 the foaming water used to turn a big mill wheel and 
 help the dusty miller grind the grain which his neigh- 
 bors brought. 
 
 Fig. 1. — Phoebe. 
 
 • '3 ■ t4/'ff-:s'.'4i'. 
 
BIRD WORLD. 
 
 About the last of March every year a citizen of 
 Massachusetts, who has spent the winter farther south, 
 returns to the spot and calls out his name from the 
 trees about the shore, " Phoe-bee ! Phoe-bee ! " stopping 
 now and then to dart over the water for a gnat or fly, 
 and snapping his tail when he returns to the tree. 
 
 An old man who has lived in the neighborhood for 
 many years says that when he was a boy, seventy 
 years ago, the Phoebe came every year just as it does 
 to-day, and he and his sister visited the mill every 
 April to find the neat, well-built nest which the bird 
 placed on the rafters of the mill. 
 
 The buzzing and whirring of the wheel, and the 
 grinding sound made by the heavy millstones did not 
 disturb either the parent birds or their young. The 
 miller knew them and gladly let them use his roof for 
 shelter. 
 
 The boy and his sister loved them too, and never 
 stole the nest nor frightened them. To-day the mill 
 is torn down, but on the very spot where it stood 
 they find the bridge, and under it the strong beams 
 that support it. Here they still build their nest ; the 
 water foams and splashes below them ; people, and 
 sometimes horses and wagons, tramp over them, but 
 they have no fear. In spite of all the changes, they 
 prefer their old home to any other. 
 
 The old man and his sister nul^ soon pass away, 
 
THE rmEHE. 5 
 
 and even the younger people who now M'sit the spot 
 will sometime die too, but if the state, which now 
 owns the ponds, leaves the bridge and the trees and 
 bushes on its banks, I feel sure that every springtime 
 the Phoebe's note will be heard in the last days of 
 March, and the pretty moss-covered nest will be built 
 under the bridge. 
 
 The young birds will learn to fly off and catch 
 msects on the wing, and will snap their tails too, as 
 their parents do ; and some day, when their parents 
 die, they will come and build nests under the bridge. 
 No one knows when they first came to this spot, nor 
 how long they will continue to return. 
 
 Note. _ It was my happy privilege to live for srven years in the cot- 
 tage upon the estate to which the ponds belonged before Massachusetts 
 made a present of them to all its nature-loving citizens. 
 
 It must have been this same Phoebe who called to me from the pine 
 grove across the street so often in its plaintive way. Once when I was 
 .II I took turns in fancying, first, that Phcbe was lost and wished to 
 be found ; and second, that some one was staying away too long and 
 must be called home to ease an anxiou. heart. But the note is hardly 
 Ike a call ; ,t sounds more like a sweet, loving memory that takes this 
 way of expressing itself. How glad I should have been then to know 
 that I was living at the ancestral home of this ancient family ! 
 
 J. H. S. 
 
BIRD WORLD. 
 
 WHY ROBIN DID NOT SING IN THE SOUTH. 
 
 Ik I ever tried a note 
 Something rose within my throat. 
 
 'T was because my heart was true 
 To the north and sptingtime new ; 
 
 My mind's eye a nest could see 
 In yon old forked apple tree ! 
 
 EijiTH Thomas 
 
 JV-V. 
 
 Fig. 2. — Robin. 
 
 They 'll come again to the apple tree, — 
 
 Robin and all the rest, — 
 When the orchard branches are fair to see 
 
 In the snow of blossoms dressed, 
 And the prettiest thing in the world will be 
 The building of the ne ^t. 
 
 Mrs. M. E. Sangstek. 
 
 W^MM 
 
THE ROBIN. 
 
 [^ONG before you are awake, the Robins have had 
 
 V > " "^°'""'"^' "^^'^^•^^^ -^ung a very jolly choT 
 
 visited two or three cherry trees and hv thl\ 
 
 have breaL-fn«f^^ j ^ ' ^^ ^"^ ^""^ you 
 
 ta..-n/;:rrLTir u: " '"='^- '-^^ -^ 
 
 twice . >ar«e; ';,:!•:; if Tongef'^r:;.-'::'^ 
 br.ght orange in color '^ ' ""'' " 
 
 Instead of squabbling and scratching in the midc ■ 
 top elrand^t'^'T "^ '" ""^''^ 'o 'louses o'e^ 
 
 -PS id thenSr^i^XT^ra;:- ' '- 
 
 Fruit IS very dear to the RobJn A/ • 
 
 Hun'ti^g forr;;sTn,;T r"^ "r- '- •- 
 
 share with him hfn T \^ ^ "^"""'^ ^^''e to 
 
 pulls and pulir'till tL "''' ^""'^'' °'^ ^''^ ^^^^ '-^nd 
 pulls, till the poor worm he is seeking has 
 
8 
 
 JilRD WORLD. 
 
 i 
 
 life 
 
 to let go, and after some hard pounding by Robin's 
 sharp bill, it is carried off to the nest for the little 
 ones, or gulped df)vv i by Robin himself. 
 
 Mr. James RusseJ Lowell calls the Robin's nest 
 *' an adobe house." Perhaps some of you have read 
 how people in Colorado build houses of dried clay, 
 which bakes in the sun. This is called adobe, and 
 both the Robin and the Swallow know how to build 
 in this fashion. 
 
 Four eggs of " robin's egg blue," laid early in May, 
 hatch into very ugly and very hungry youngsters. 
 Their b:g yellow mouths are opened wide whenever 
 the mother or father comes near. These parents are 
 kept busy all day and every day for a fortnight till the 
 young birds grow big, till feathers cover their naked 
 little bodies, and one of them steps to the edge of the 
 mud nest and looks out. 
 
 This is an anxious time for the parents. Soon the 
 boldest youngster tries his wings and makes for a 
 neighboring twig. If he misses it and flutters down 
 to the ground, the parents fly back and forth, making 
 a great outcry which collects many other bira^,. If 
 no cat comes prowling about, th- little one tries again 
 and perhaps gets safely off, but often a bunch of gray 
 feathers tells the sad story of his short life. 
 
 When the young birds who escape all the dangers 
 from cats and hawks, are strong enough to find foou 
 
THE ROB IX. o 
 
 for themselves, the parents build another nest and rear 
 another brood. Meanwhile the first brood fly each 
 night to some neighboring grove where they are joined 
 by other young Robins from miles around. The birds 
 assemble in such numbers that the pattering of their 
 
 Robin. 
 
 wmgs on the leaves, while they are arranging their 
 places for the night, sounds like falling rain. 
 
 Not only do the young birds come to these " roosts " 
 as they are called, but father-Robins also, who cannot 
 help their wives after sun--t, Jo'n their children, or 
 perhaps show them the Wc y. 
 
lO 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 One eentleman, who watched a family of Robins 
 near his house, writes : " The female came and took 
 possession of the nest for the night I saw her 
 brooding the young till it became so dark that I could 
 distinguish nothing. On the following evening the 
 male fed the young at about the same hour, then flew 
 to the top of a spruce tree, and after singing a good- 
 nicrht to wife and babies, took a direct flight for the 
 roost. The female then fed the young and settled 
 
 herself in the nest." 
 
 By the time you have learned the birds names, and 
 begun to watch their habits, you may wonder whether 
 there is anything new for you to find out. 
 
 You mav think, that if so many people have studied 
 them for a hundred years, they will have found out 
 all their interesting ways. But do not be discouraged 
 Nothing could be more interesting than this habit ot 
 the Robins of assembling every summer night in these 
 .reat companies; and yet, though the Robin is every- 
 where common, and has been studied by hundreds of 
 bird students, it was only eight years ago that anything 
 was written about " Robin roosts." 
 
THE ORIOLE. 
 
 f T is in May when woodlands are green with swell- 
 * ing buds and spreading leaves, and fragrant with 
 the sweet wild flowers, that the brilliant Oriole appears 
 
 among us. 
 
 Very early one morning I heard his clear whistle 
 and hastened to find him. He looked down upon me 
 rather inquiringly, as if he wanted to say, " What do 
 you think of me.?" and my heart answered, " I think 
 you are beautiful ! " 
 
 He was alone for a few days, busy as a bird could 
 be, trying to select a house lot. He flew from tree to 
 tree, in orchard, garden, and yard. A tall, stately elm 
 seems to please him best, and when the shy little lady 
 he is to make his wife is coaxed to the tallest branch, 
 she demurs, as she knows the peril of building there,' 
 and with a decision he does not quite relish she tells 
 him a lower branch would suit her better. 
 
 She begins very soon to collect materials for build- 
 ing, singing as she works, making long journeys for 
 the hair and twine necessary for her home. After 
 nest come eggs, and after eggs baby birds. The 
 proud and happy father shows his love as well by the 
 care he takes, and the watchfulness, as by the songs 
 
12 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 he pours from his full throat. Often he seems to 
 say to the mother, "Run out now and stretch a 
 
 Oriole. 
 
 little"; and she goes, but not for very long. Why 
 is it that mothers think no one can be quite so con- 
 tent and happy with their babies as themselves .? 
 
 K'- ^^ 
 
 1 
 
Summer Warbler, or Vellowbird. 
 
 HERALDS OF THE SUMMEP. 
 
 IF we make a residence in Bird World in such a place 
 that our doors and windows open out upon hedges 
 or shrubbery, or upon a garden, we shall not need to 
 search for this little bird in the picture. He will come 
 to us with his pretty yellow mate. 
 
 J ■'■"f*r\, - 
 
,^ BIRD WORLD. 
 
 The gentleness of the summer Yellowbirds wins 
 our love. They are as sunny in their temper as in 
 their looks. " Pretty is that pretty does " never need 
 
 put them to shame. , .. . j i:u« 
 
 The Cowbirds have long since found it out and, like 
 the naucrhty birds they are, have taken advantage o 
 it; but gentle people, if they will not quarrel will not 
 always suffer their own plans to be turned aside. The 
 Cowbird sometimes f^nds his match, as we sha 1 see. 
 The following little word-picture will show you how a 
 Yellowbird's nest looked to Mr. Keyscr, and what 
 the bird did when she found herself imposed upon. 
 
 " The nest of the Summer Warbler was a dainty 
 structure, composed of downy material, and deftly 
 lod-ed among the twigs of a sapling at the foot of a 
 cliff A cold spring gurgled from the rocks near by ; 
 the willows and buttonwood trees bent to the balmy 
 breeze, and the tinkling of the brook mingled with 
 the songs of many birds. 
 
 " Our little strategist comes home and finds a Low- 
 bird's egg dropped ^nto her nest. She begins forih- 
 with to add another story, and this leaves the interloper 
 in the cellar, with a floor between it and her warm 
 breast I have found several of these exquisite towers 
 that were three stories high, in the top of which the 
 little bird sat perched like a goddess on the summit 
 of Olympia." 
 
 
 ■^■--S- 
 
THE BLUEBIRD. 
 
 DO you believe that a Bluebird would think of com- 
 ing to New Engl-ind in February? 
 
 One bright, crisp morning in the last month of 
 winter, I heard a clear, lively, little song that I knew, 
 and of course I hastened to find my friend, the Blue- 
 bird. The " Blue Robin" little children sometimes call 
 him, and indeed he is a cousin to the Robin family. 
 
 He was very cunning at hiding in the old apj)lc 
 tree, and very shy when I found him. 
 
 Soon there was a nest, and a little later a family of 
 five, one beinij a ffuest who had traveled north for the 
 first time, perhaps, and was not in haste to have the 
 care of a family. He never did any work, but flitted 
 about as if made simply to enjoy himself and be 
 admired. 
 
 If you had seen him, you would have thought it 
 very natural Such a putting together of heavenly 
 blue, and warm, rich, yellowish red would be enough 
 to turn any head that was not full of earnest purpose. 
 
 The home was built by the bird mother in the 
 orchard where I could easily watch it, and we became 
 very good friends, these dear Bluebirds and I. They 
 
i6 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 ate the crumbs I gave them, and my joy in them was 
 complete when they came boldly to my door. 
 
 Bluebird. 
 
 Mother Bluebird, as perhaps you may know, is more 
 quietly dressed than her gallant mate. It is not that 
 
THE BLUEBIRD. 
 
 '7 
 
 she would not take good care of a bright costume, for 
 birds are tidy in their persons ; but she thinks more 
 of safety than of looks, and it might be inconvenient 
 to have to fly out of harm's reach just when home 
 could least spare her. 
 
 A pair of Robins with very red breasts built a nest 
 close by, and seemed to be good neighbors. How 
 did I know, do you ask? Well, for one thing they 
 formed a chorus, and before sunrise I would hear 
 them singii together. 
 
 ^ Pot rlirad 
 
 The above diagram explains some names often used in describing a bird. 
 
THE COMING OF THE BIRDS. 
 
 I N the lesson on the Oriole you read that he came 
 I in May when buds were bursting into flowers. 1 
 wonder whether you asked yourself, as you read, 
 where he had come from and why he had not come 
 
 before. . 
 
 These are questions that the very wisest men have 
 found it hard to answer. Without hurrying to answer 
 them now, — for if you read further there will be more 
 about these things,— let us ask some country boy 
 when the birds come back and which come first. 
 
 If our friend has sharp eyes and ears, he will know 
 that early in March he hears the first Robin, and 
 with him' come the gentle Bluebird, the noisy Black- 
 birds, and the cheery Song Sparrow. The Phoebe 
 waits a fortnight till the flies and gnats begin to stir, 
 for his food does not lie on the ground like that of 
 the birds just mentioned. 
 
 In April come many more birds, but May is the 
 great month for the returning tribes. The names 
 alone of all those that come in the warm days of early 
 May would fill a page. Bird World in the north is 
 like a seaside summer place, very empty in winter, 
 but stirring with life in summer. 
 
 Ib-'JL'*.^ 
 
THE INDIGO BIRD. 
 
 \TOVV that we are on Bluebirds, let us give a 
 A ^ thought to a smaller Bluebird without the bright 
 breast. 
 
 The Indigo bird seems to be all blue till, looking 
 closely, we see a greenish cast in some lights, and 
 a trace of brownish color on under parts and wings 
 and tail. 
 
 The Bluebird, as I told you, though smaller than the 
 Robin, is a near relative ; the Indigo bird is perhaps 
 as near a cousin to the Sparrow. Lady Indigo wears 
 brown for the most part, only adding her husband's 
 "colors," as a good wife should, on shoulders and 
 outer tail webs. 
 
 This is a wise precaution, for these birds do not 
 carry on their family affairs high out of harm's way, 
 but build a nest in a low bush or on tall, stiff grasses. 
 They will build by the roadside sooner than close by 
 our homes, and they do not respond with confidence 
 to our friendly advances. 
 
 But, while they nest and feed on or near the ground 
 you will most often see one swinging from a topmost 
 twig of a tall tree, when its song makes you search 
 for the singer. 
 
JO 
 
 JUKI! noKi.n. 
 
 I )„ not look for them anK„.g the very earliest birds , 
 ,h V n ake up to us for coming later to the b.rd con- 
 erf of the year, by singing away on m August, «he„ 
 many of the other birds are resting the.r voices. If 
 YOU are walking or riding on a country road well lined 
 vvi.h shrubs and trees, i should be surprised if you do 
 not before sumn,er ends, looking up, see the male 
 Indi-o bird -a little blue canary you will think 
 _o^ the outer end of a high twig; or, once m 
 a summer, you may come upon the ^^^-^f"'^^ 
 mother dusting herself as mother-hens do and com- 
 ing from her bath feeling as clean as you do coming 
 from yours. 
 
 What if the sky is clouded ? 
 
 What if the rain comes down ? 
 They are all dressed to meet it 
 
 In waterproof suits of brown. 
 
 BLUEBIRD. 
 
 "So the Bluebirds have contracted, have they for a house? 
 And a nest is under way for little Mr. Wren ? 
 Hush, dear, hush : Be quiet, quiet as a mouse." 
 
THE STORY OF A GROUSE. 
 
 j WAS born in the swamp at the foot of this hill, 
 * under the laurel ; and as soon as I broke through 
 the shell, I ran off over the dry leaves with my brothers 
 and sisters. 
 
 There were ten of us, and from June, when we 
 were born, till August we kept close to our mother. 
 The whole family wandered here and there through 
 the swamp, and though we children sometimes ran off 
 too far, we found each other again by peeping and by 
 listening for our mother's cluck. 
 
 Once a man and two children came upon us sud- 
 denly and we all hurried off among the leaves, where 
 we squatted down and kept as quiet as we could. 
 Or mother, however, ran out in front of the man, 
 trailing her wings close to the ground, and keeping 
 his attention till she felt sure we were well hidden. 
 Then she ran off through the bushes. Presently we 
 heard her cluck and each of us answered with a faint 
 peep and one after another we came out from our hid- 
 ing places. Then our mother took us quickly off 
 into the deep bushes to a place of safety. 
 
 We found enough to eat all summer ; berries were 
 plentiful and we became skilful in catching the spi- 
 
 :V«rf 
 
22 
 
 BIRD WORl.n. 
 
 ,lers and beetles that ran over the K'™";"- ^he" 
 we were verv little we spent the niyht under our 
 ^.tJuVs wings, poking our heads out through the 
 feathers when it grew light. 
 
 Whit we disliked most was the cold ram that 
 
 s.>metimer fell, chilling us through our feathers, and 
 
 iin-ventini: us from finding food. 
 
 '^ \l^ kept together till the fall and since then, though 
 
 .hi are'man; Crouse in these woods, we have neve 
 
 nd a family •reunion. By the fall, too, we had all 
 
 1 ,„ rtv orettv well ; we were strong of wing, 
 earned to ny picuy "■-", , 
 
 and at night we tiew into trees and roosted on th. 
 
 branches. . , ^Up 
 
 Nov, l.e.,.u> tlic season when men came mto the 
 
 woods to shoot us, and though I escaped myself, I 
 
 often saw the fallen feathers of less fortunate b.rds^ 
 The sound of the guns, and an experience had 
 
 with a fox who almost caught me because vvas 
 ™«ting too near the ground, taught me a va uab e 
 
 lesson, so that now, without boastmg, I may claim to 
 
 l^i> T nrettv wary old bird. 
 
 I v':ell remember the falling of the first snow m 
 November, and yet 1 was not so surprised a^you m.gh 
 imagine. It seemed natural to see the white masses 
 "vering the vines and leaves ; and I found that feath- 
 ers had grown on my toes so that ■'. was almost as 
 it I walked on snowshoes. When I tound out that 
 
TJtE STORY 01' A GROUSE. 
 
 23 
 
 the buds of many of the bushes were fine eating, I felt 
 no desire to leave the woods where I was born. 
 
 So here I stay, year in and year out. In March I 
 have a favorite log where I always drum. You can 
 hear my strokes a mile away, and when I am drum- 
 ming I spread out my tail and blow out my feath- 
 ers, till there is no handsomer bird in the swamp. 
 
 Each year I see and hear the Ovenbirds that come 
 to rest on my log, and they tell me of their journeys 
 southward in the fall, and the fine woods they find 
 where there is never snow, but I think my own woods 
 are best. I should be a foolish Grouse to fly so far 
 into an unknown country when my feathers keep me 
 so warm and buds are so easy to find. 
 
i 'i- 
 
 .■I^M 
 
 BIRD ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 HOW many birds are you sure you would kiKuv by 
 si<rht? ' You can tell an English Sparrow from 
 a Robin'or Bluebird, and you would not mistake the 
 Sununer Yellowbird or the Oriole ])erhaps. 
 
 Will vou not begin to get into closer acquamtance 
 ,vith th J citizens of^Bird World ? Let us stop searching 
 for new birds and study awhile some that we already 
 know. The h:nglish Sparrow is the commonest of 
 all and vou will not need to go far to f^nd one. 
 
 As I write, there is one within a few feet of me in 
 the pear-tree branches outside my window. 
 
 What is it that we wish to know ? First, by what 
 marks shall we recognize him when he comes again. 
 The male and female Sparrows differ, and the young 
 at different ages. We will try to remember where 
 this one is slate color, and where brown, where light 
 colored, and where darker, whether the color is in 
 patches, bars, or streaks, whether it shades into an- 
 other color or ends distinctly. The diagram of a 
 bird on page 17 will help us in stating what we .see. 
 
 Now we must record what we have learned, to see 
 if it f^ts the next Sparrow. This one may be a Cock 
 Sparrow, and that may be a lady-bird; or this may be 
 
 -^* 
 
BIRD ACQ UA1\TANCK. 
 
 25 
 
 a bird a year or two old, and the next one but a few- 
 months. It will take time to learn them all. 
 
 Now we are ready to study the ways of our little 
 visitor in the tree. See him rub his bill, first on this 
 side and then that, against the branch on which he 
 l^erches. Is it to dry it, or to sharpen it, or to polish 
 it ? Half the time it may be only a habit. 
 
 He is on a bare branch, but how he pecks and 
 jjecks; if you watch, you may see him swallow. 
 When he has gone, go and see if there are grubs or 
 insects in the cracks of the bark. 
 
 While you have been looking, he has hopped to 
 new places to rub his bill and peck as before. He 
 goes to a topmost branch and you sec his under parts. 
 The branch is too large for him to grasp with his toes, 
 but he clings, and head and tail help him to keep his 
 balance. Perhaps he will stretch one wing so that its 
 quills stand all apart; and see him lift the little brown 
 feathers under his chin, or where his chin should be. 
 Do you know how much birds can lift and loosen 
 their feathers if they wish, or how tightly they can 
 hug them.? If you saw them held loosely on a cold 
 day or night, they would make Cock Sparrow seem a 
 much larger bird. 
 
 If you have looked with real interest at one little 
 half-despised Sparrow, something has been left in your 
 heart which will remain and grow. 
 
 
 .= ■/;■*•;■' 
 
I 
 
 BILLS OF FARE. 
 
 A CERTAIN family in a country town is often 
 A joined at dinne'r by some friends who are con- 
 tent with " just the bones." 
 
 Doers, vou will say; but they are not dogs. Turn 
 to pa<;e ui and you will see one of these little guests, 
 and i? vou look closely you will see that though he 
 cannot ^,^et as much off a bone as a dog yet his beak 
 is stoutV'UOUgh and his eye sharp enough to pick the 
 
 last bit of gristle. , , . n i u ^ if 
 
 He docs not come to these people s table, but it 
 the window is open he is almost within reach of the 
 children's hands. There is an old apple tree just out- 
 side the dining-room, and on its branches there a ways 
 hangs a ham or mutton bone. This is visited almost 
 everv day in winter until it is picked clean. _ 
 
 Sometimes the Downy Woodpecker drills into the 
 tough tendrons, and occasionally a fat bluish gray 
 bird with white under parts- Nuthatch is his name 
 — joins the Chickadees at their feast. ' 
 
 Where are the other winter birds? you will ask. 
 Cannot the little Kinglet and the Creeper have their 
 share ? 
 
■.^^'t^.J^. 
 
 BILLS OF FARE. 27 
 
 The people who put out the bones would be glad 
 enough to welcome them, and from what I know of 
 the Chickadee's manners, I think he would be the last 
 to treat them rudely, if they came ; but yet they are 
 never seen clinging to the bone and picking at the 
 frozen scraps. 
 
 To ask a hungry Creeper to have a piece of gristle 
 would be as cruel as the Stork was to his friend 
 Reynard. No one is quicker than a Creeper when it 
 is a question of prying a canker-worm's eggs out of 
 a crevice in the bark, but he cannot use his slender 
 bill for such rough work as hacking frozen meat. 
 
 Up in Vermont is another family who spread a 
 table for their bird friends. The bone hung up by 
 the first family serves the Chickadee for a chair, a 
 table and food also; but the birds which visit this 
 family eat a different food, which is spread out for 
 them on a board nailed to the top of a post. They 
 have different bills from those of either the bone- 
 pickers or the Creepers. 
 
 " Finches " do you ask } " Seed eaters } " 
 
 Four or five different kinds of Finches come to this 
 board. Tree Sparrows, Snowbirds, and occasionally 
 some very pretty rosy-colored birds called Redpoll 
 Linnets. If you were near enough to the table on 
 which the food is spread, you could hear the seeds 
 crack in their strong bills, and though their bills are 
 
 ^^€lP*^SS 
 
28 
 
 HIRD WORLD. 
 
 so thick they have s' h ,Joints and can pick up very 
 
 small seeds. 
 
 Vou see you can learn much about a bird's food by 
 examining his bill. You would not need to ask a 
 Sparrow or a Swallow what he would like to eat. But 
 if you made out a bird's bill of fare by his bill alone 
 you might make a very great mistake. 
 
 Sometime perhaps you will read about the Toucan, 
 a handsome South American bird whose bill is as 
 thick as his body, and nearly as long. You would 
 expect him to crack Brazil nuts with ease, and would 
 be greatly surprised to see him in the forests of the 
 Amazon chattenng with his comrades in the tops of 
 tall fruit trees, and holding in the end of his enor- 
 mous beak fruit no bigger than a cherry. 
 
 Birds' beaks are like tools; some, you can guess at 
 once, are to be used for chiseling or digging; how 
 others are used it is harder to guess; and to under- 
 stand some we have to find the owner and watch him 
 at his work. 
 
 
"GULL DICK." 
 
 r\N the second of October, 1894, the men on a 
 ^^ certain lightship in Narragansett Bay were 
 looking eagerly to see whether an old friend had 
 returned to spend the winter with them. 
 
 For twenty-two years a Gull had appeared each 
 October and flown about the ship in search of food, 
 till April, when he had disappeared for the summer. 
 
 The men on a lightship see so little to amuse them, 
 that they soon noticed this Gull and offered him food. 
 He on his part grew bolder until he learned to vi: . 
 the ship regularly, as soon as morning came, and to 
 remain near it until it was time for him to return to 
 the rocks, where he spent the night. His favorite 
 food was pork or fish cut into pieces as large as a 
 hen's egg. He came closer to the ship than the other 
 Gulls, and the crew recognized him by certain marks 
 on his wings. 
 
 There was much satisfaction aboard the lightship 
 when " Gull Dick " appeared on this particular morning, 
 but he seemed to have taken a long journey, and to 
 have suffered somewhat from storms. 
 
 His plumage was ragged and his movements were 
 -ither more feeble than they used to be. The men 
 
30 
 
 BIRD WOKl.n. 
 
 said to each other, "'Gull Dick ' is getting old. This 
 mav be his last winter with us." 
 
 they gave him all the food he wanted, for he seemed 
 very huiTgry. All through the winter he came regu- 
 larly for his meals, driving off the other Gulls if they 
 came too near his food. The crew fed him for the 
 last time early in April ; the next day he doubtless 
 started for the north, but what happened to him there 
 no one knows. Old age, or a fierce storm, may have 
 carried him off, or perhaps another bird attacked 
 him ; at any rate, he failed to return in the fall, and 
 the men in the lightship have lost their pet, " Gull 
 Dick." 
 
 TO A WATERFOWL. 
 
 Whith'':r, 'midst falling dew, 
 While tjlow the heavens with the last steps of day, 
 Far through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue 
 
 Thy solitary way ? 
 
 Vainly the fowler's eye 
 Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, 
 As. darkly painted on the crimson sky. 
 
 Thy figure floats along. 
 
 Seek 'st thou the plashy brink 
 Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, 
 Or vl'here the rocking bi'lows rise and sink 
 
 On the chafed ocean side ? 
 
 Bkvant. 
 
THE OWL. 
 
 MO one can mistake an owl. In every country 
 
 where owls are found (and they are found nearly 
 
 everywhere), their wise-looking, solemn faces are well 
 
 known. What is it that gives the owl this look, so 
 
 grave that we have the saying "wise as an owl ".? 
 
 Look at the picture and notice that the eyes are 
 placed far forward, and that around each large eye is 
 a broad circle or disk of flat feathers. These circles 
 of feathers make the eyes seem even larger, and go 
 far toward giving the bird its solemn look. 
 
 An owl's beak and claws are curved and strong. 
 They resemble those of another family which includes 
 the Hawks and Eagles, who also live by violence. 
 
 Hawks, if they are robbers, are at any rate like the 
 robber barons of old, dependent on their strength and 
 swiftness as much as on surprise. The owl is more 
 like a stealthy thief, and his success depends almost 
 wholly on silence and secrecy. Twilight is his favor- 
 ite time, or moonlight nights. His feathers, moreover, 
 are edged with such soft down that an owl might pass 
 directly over your head and you would hardly^'hear it. 
 Think of the whistling of a pigeon's wings and you 
 will see how remarkable this silence is. Here s 
 
 i! 
 
T 
 
 32 
 
 BIRD VORLD. 
 
 
 then the secret of the owl's success, — broad, power- 
 ful wines on which he relies for stealthy, noiseless 
 flight ; Targe eyes, like a cat's, which gather up all 
 the dim light ; and sharp, strong claws which seue 
 and tear his victim. An owl is a cat on wings. 
 
 It was long believed that an owl could not see by 
 day, and that he hunted on the darkest nights. Prob- 
 .->,bly neither statement is true. The owl can see as 
 well, if not better, in the daytime than we can ; but if 
 there is no light he cannot see at all. Why does he 
 iiide 'by day, you will ask, in the barn or belfry, or in 
 the hollow tree, and only come out at dusk ? 
 
 If a pickpocket had a certain mark by which every 
 one knew him the moment he appeared, it would be 
 easy to avoid him, and he would probably have to get 
 his living by honest work; the owl is known the mo- 
 ment he is' seen, and the fuss the little birds make 
 when he happens to appear in the daytime would warn 
 his victims and keep him hungry till he starved. 
 
 No one who has seen an owl surrounded by a crowd 
 of furious birds, scolding and flying excitedly about, 
 can forget the scene. It seems as if they were calling 
 him " rascal," " thief," and " murderer." Sometimes a 
 cheerful little Chickadee, looking over an apple tree, 
 jnits its head into a hollow trunk, and instantly his 
 feathers bristle, and he calls loudly to his friends, 
 "There's an owl in here, there's an owl in here!" 
 
 jwr •:^».-: 
 
THE OlFL. 
 
 33 
 
 Owl. 
 
 They answer in the greatest excitement, and all the 
 birds round about come to peer in at the villain. 
 You can imagine, therefore, that the owl does a better 
 business, and leads a more peaceful life, if he puts off 
 his tour of the orchard till evening. 
 
 '»' ■9':i -i^-V 
 
34 
 
 filKI) WORLD. 
 
 Hut what do owls find in the twilight when the 
 birds are asleep? Have you ever heard a mouse at 
 night running backward and forward in the walls? 
 
 Besides the mice who share your house with you, 
 there are many wild mice in the fields, and they are 
 most active at night. In winter, if snow falls in the 
 night, you may find their tracks all about in the morn- 
 ing. Sometimes the track ends abruptly, there are 
 signs of a scuffle, and i)erhaps a little blood mark may 
 be seen in the white snow. This is where the poor 
 mouse gave a pitiful shriek as the sharp claws of an 
 owl pierced his back. 
 
 Under the apple tree, in whose hollow trunk the 
 owl spends the day, you will pick up curious little 
 bunches — pellets they are called — of fur, and on 
 opening one of them you will find the skull and other 
 bones of a mouse or bird. Instead of picking the flesh 
 off the bones as a hawk would, the owl crushes the 
 skull and large bones, and swallows his victim head first ; 
 then in his stomach the indigestible portions, the fur, 
 feathers, or bones, are rolled into this curious pellet 
 and cast forth. 
 
 The commonest owl near cities is called the 
 Screech Owl ; he is not larger than a small chicken, 
 is reddish ijrav, with two tufts of feathers like ears. 
 His note is a mournful but gentle wailing sound, and 
 is often heard on moonlight nights in the autumn. 
 
THE OIVL. 
 
 35 
 
 One of these owls spent the winter once in the 
 Washington Klni, and many j)eopIc saw the little 
 tenant of this famous tree sitting at the edge of his 
 home and sending out his mournful "who. hoo, hoc. 
 hoo" over the Cambridge Common. 
 
 The larger owls live in the deep woods, and their 
 hooting is loud and often terrifying to those who first 
 hear it. In the frozen north lives the Snowy Owl, 
 whose brownish feathers turn almost white in winter! 
 On the western plains lives a curious member of the 
 family, the Burrowing Owl. His home is a burrow, 
 often the deserted home of some prairie dog. 
 
 The owl has long been much abused and attacked 
 for its sinful manner of life. It is only lately that 
 people have discovered how much good most owls do. 
 Many owls have been shot and their stomachs opened,' 
 but instead of small birds being the favorite food, the 
 greater part was found to consist of mice and insects, 
 both of which injure the farmer's crops. 
 
 We are sorry that the owl occasionally kills a sonjr 
 bn-d, but if he is really of such help to the farmer, 
 ought we not to protect him, and when we hear his 
 trembling voice in the still moonlight, think of him 
 not so much as a midnight robber as a sort of police- 
 man guarding the farms, gardens, and fields .? 
 
 II 
 
' 
 
 Scarlet Tmager. 
 
 THE SCARLET TANAGER. 
 
 THE male Tanager gives up its scarlet color when 
 nesting time is over, but wears the velvety jet 
 black of his wings. A dull olive green is the color 
 of the female, and of the male when the scarlet is 
 drojiped. Its song resembles that of the Robin, but 
 
 is not so free 
 
 and 
 
 clear. 
 
 HFl 
 
The Cedar Bird 
 
 THE POLITEST BIRD. 
 
 \^E can all tell what would happen if we should 
 
 ^ ' throw a piece of bread into the street, under 
 
 the trees where the Sparrows are chattering. What 
 
 I 
 
38 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 a noisy group there would soon be about the bread ; 
 and if some lucky fellow should fly off with a large 
 crumb, how the others would hurry after, and leave 
 him no peaceful moment in which to eat it. 
 
 Country boys and girls know, too, how very ill- 
 mannered even motherly old hens will be, and how 
 undignified they will look if you throw a handful of 
 grain into their midst. 
 
 You will therefore be surprised, I feel sure, at the 
 story I am going to tell you about the politest bird I 
 know. No princess in a fairy tale could be brought 
 up by her anxious parents to have better manners 
 than this handsome bird. 
 
 His name and his picture you will find on the 
 preceding page, and some of you who live among the 
 hills where the red cedars stand covered all winter 
 with spicy smelling berries, will know from his name 
 what he eats in winter and early spring. 
 
 When you hear that he is called Cherry Bird as 
 well, you will all know what he eats in summer, and I 
 think you will wish you could get your cherries as 
 easily as he can his. 
 
 One morning in August a gentleman saw several 
 Cedar Birds fly into a small tree on which bunches of 
 wild cherries were hanging. On one limb he saw 
 two birds sitting side bv side, one of them with a 
 cherry in his beak. 
 
 ■^^^r^m^ 
 
THE POLITEST BIRD. 
 
 39 
 
 Did he gobble it down as fast as he could, or did 
 the second bird rush at him and snatch it from him ? 
 
 You will hardly guess what happened. The bird 
 who had the cherry hopped along the limb with a 
 motion which would almost do for a bow, and offered 
 the cherry to the second bird. This one's manners, 
 however, were just as good, and he, too, hopped back 
 and returned the cherry to the first bird. 
 
 The cherry was passed in this way from one to the 
 other nearly half a dozen times, each bird making a 
 hop and a bow, as if to say, " I cannot think of eating 
 it; I would much rather that you took it." 
 
 We must not expect to find such great politeness 
 as these Cedar Birds showed common among birds; 
 in fact, their food is often so hard to obtain that we 
 cannot blame a hungry bird who has little ones to 
 feed for snatching it as quickly as he can. 
 
 If there are no tables set for the birds, where each 
 can find his food at his own place, and no one to set 
 them an example, we shall hardly expect them to have 
 good table manners. We can remember the Cedar 
 Birds, however, and when next we see the noisy 
 Sparrows we will beg them to take a lesson from their 
 politer relatives. 
 
 ••l«m'i 
 
Downy Woodpeck 
 
 A FAMILY OF BACKWOODSMEN. 
 
 IN the great forests of Maine and northern New 
 * York none of the sounds can be heard which are 
 so familiar to us who live in busy towns — no factory 
 whistles, no bells, no trains of cars with their noisy 
 
 e^S^^S^^^S^^ 
 
 •,^wmR/imf?si!:^Kn 
 
A FAMILY OF BACKWOODSMEN. 
 
 41 
 
 engines. The stillness is broken only by the distant 
 ring of the wood-chopper's axe. 
 
 If you follow the sound, you may come upon a 
 strong, broad-shouldered man, swinging a bright axe 
 and covering the ground around the foot of a tree 
 with the clean, sweet-smelling chips. A little distance 
 off is another wood-chopper, giving such blows that 
 you may sometimes hear him half a mile away. He 
 also strews chips far and wide. 
 
 The tool of this second woodman is more like a 
 chisel, and he never parts with it, for it is his long, 
 powerful bill. His neck is tremendously strong, so 
 that by drawing back his head he can strike a blow 
 which tears off great sheets of decaying bark, or even 
 large chips of sound wood. 
 
 This wood-chopper, or woodpecker, as he is com- 
 monly called, is the largest of his family, and is only 
 found where there are tall trees and plenty cf them. 
 Like the lumbermen, he is found only in the wild, 
 unsettled parts of the country, and when the forests 
 are cut down he moves on to fresh woods. 
 
 THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 
 
 There are plenty of trees, as you know, among 
 farms or even in the city parks, though they do not 
 form dense forests. Here the smaller members of the 
 
 ,:jjr-:y-'^f ^Br^'^r' 
 
iT, 
 
 42 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 ;1 
 if 
 
 .11 
 
 f 
 
 Woodpecker Family, one of whom you may see in the 
 colored picture, find wood enough to keep them well 
 employed. 
 
 They visit the orchards and the groves, rapping and 
 chiseling the dead or dying limbs. But why are they 
 so busy, these hewers of wood : With what purpose 
 do they cut into the trees or tear off the bark .? If 
 you see one cutting in spring, and watch closely, you 
 will find it working day after day at the same limb, 
 and cutting into it a round hole, which finally becomes 
 so deep that the bird disappears inside, coming out 
 now and then with chips, or flying for food and rest. 
 
 This hole is a nest. When it is deep enough, the 
 mother lays five or six pure white eggs, not on straw 
 or hair, but on fine chips which have fallen to the 
 bottom. Here the young are hatched and fed. In a 
 day or two they find the chips a rather hard seat, and 
 climb by their feet to the sides of the hole, till they 
 are ready to peep out into the world outside. 
 
 Sometimes in the autumn you will see a wood- 
 pecker again drilling a hole, this time for his winter 
 retreat ; for the most of these birds spend the winter 
 where they were born. Now, however, the birds work 
 alone, for they have lived in the lonely woods so much 
 that they do not care for company, and each bird 
 keeps pretty much by himself in the daytime, and 
 sleeps in his own home by night. 
 
A FAMILY OF BACKWOODSMEN. 
 
 43 
 
 The woodpecker builds his house with his bill, 
 just as Abraham Lincoln's father cut the logs for 
 his house with his sharp axe. Besides this very 
 important work, the woodpecker's bill is used in 
 a way that is even more necessary. By its help he 
 finds food for himself, his wife, and' his children. 
 
 When we hear him tapping at the dead limb, he is 
 searching for insects, grubs, and beetles, that live in 
 the decayed wood ; he bores into the wood till he 
 reaches them, but then his bill cannot open wide 
 enough in the small hole to seize the grub. What 
 shall he do } He has not gone as far as this to lose 
 his prize. 
 
 His tongue is as well suited for seizing the insect 
 as his bill was for finding it. It is 
 like a whaler's harpoon, and though ^==*=^=*^ 
 he keeps it in his bill he can dart it Tongue onv„i,pecker 
 out to twice the length of the bill; 
 and not only is It barbed to seize the grub, but it is 
 coated with slime so that any little flies or eggs will 
 be sure to stick to it. Thus, when he has found his 
 dinner he darts out his tongue, strikes it into the 
 unlucky grub, and the next moment has despatched 
 that, and thrust it out for another. 
 
44 
 
 lilKD WORLD. 
 
 THE FLICKER. 
 
 The commonest woodpecker is in several ways so 
 different from the rest of his family that he deserves 
 
 special mention. He 
 has a number of 
 names, but perhaps 
 is most commonly 
 called the Flicker, 
 from his note, and 
 the Golden-winged 
 Woodpecker, from 
 the golden yellow 
 of the under side 
 of his wings. 
 He is a gay bird 
 if you see him near. He has a red band on his neck, 
 black mustaches, and round, black dots over his gray 
 breast. He lives more commonly among farms than 
 in the deep woods, and in battle he would be no 
 match for his cousins of the backwoods. 
 
 Nor could the Flicker chop into the trees at such a 
 rate as they, for his bill is more slender, slightly 
 curved, and not so square at the tip. In fact, to get 
 his favorite food he has no chopping to do. When 
 he finds an ant-hill he stands on the ground and, 
 darting out his tongue, with accurate aim glues one 
 after another of the helpless victims to its tip. 
 
 Fio. 4. — Flicker. 
 
 ^S'.«'J5i 
 
 WSHF 
 
 •m iv-^--'i'/\,-. :■ 
 
 ^^ET 
 
 '■-.W,.>.*S' 
 
A FAMILY OF BACKWOODSMEN. 
 
 45 
 
 The little Downy Woodpecker is rarely or never 
 seen on the ground, but the Flicker spends much of 
 his time there. He sits differently, too, when he is 
 on a tree; not along it, like his relatives, but across, as 
 most birds do. If you were to consult the head of the 
 family, the big, black woodpecker of the north, he 
 might shake his head and say, " I am afraid Cousin 
 Flicker is degenerating. If he does not look out 
 and mend his ways, he won't be a woodpecker at all 
 before long." 
 
 But how is little Downv able to stand a.-^ vou 
 see him in the picture, and how does he manage to 
 dodge around the trunk of a trce, as I have often seen 
 him do-f" 
 
 In the first place, his tail feathers: are very stiff, and 
 end in such sharp points that by pressing them cinse 
 to the rough bark he can get a great deal of support 
 from them. You will hear later of another bird, who 
 uses his tail to climb chimneys with. Then, too, his 
 claws are arranged, not like a sparrow's, three in front 
 and one behind, but in pairs, two in front and two 
 behind. 
 
 One of the hind pair, however, can be moved off 
 to the side, and with this, if he is suddenly pursued, 
 he can pull himself so quickly to the other side of 
 the tree that even a hawk cannot strike him. 
 
 There are many other interesting things to learn 
 
;ia- ' 
 
 i i 
 
 - 
 
 4J| 
 
 KT ^"Ki 
 
 ■' ■ i- ^"1 
 
 46 
 
 j^/iV/? WORLD. 
 
 about this Woodpecker Family. The Flickers, for 
 instance, bring up their babies on a strange diet and 
 feed them in a remarkable way. First, they eat che 
 food themselves and prepare it in the stomach for the 
 tender stomachs of the little ones. Then, when they 
 see the wide-yawning beaks of their little nestlings, 
 they put their own far down inside them and pump 
 uj) the soft food from their own stomachs to give it to 
 their little ones. 
 
 None of the woodpeckers, as I have said before, 
 are sociable birds. They do not feed in flocks, though 
 the Flickers do get together a little, and the little 
 Downy is often found in winter with a company of 
 Chickadees, or other small winter birds. 
 
 Many of the larger woodpeckers are downright 
 savages, preferring the wild forests, keeping far from 
 men, and when caught, giving fierce blows with their 
 powerful bills, and refusing to be tamed. 
 
 A famous lover of American birds, Alexander Wil- 
 son, caught a southern woodpecker once, called, from 
 his pure white bill, the Ivory-billed. He took it home, 
 and as he went throuijh the streets, the constant cries 
 of the bird made people stop and stare at him. He 
 left it in his room, but when he returned, after an 
 hour, the brave bird had nearly cut a hole through the 
 window-sash, and would in a few minutes have escaped 
 from his prison. Wilson then tied the bird to his 
 
 -■f^«p ^^«'5fBBSsgJ7myiii"-.i«« i3B''a)K:?jsTf^^''.~?««w;-.--w-! 
 
A FAMILY OF JiACKWOODSMKX, 
 
 47 
 
 table and went out again, only to find, on his return, 
 that the table was ruined by the powerful blows of the 
 bill. The bird refused to eat and at last died, brave 
 and fierce to the end. 
 
 THE SAPSUCKER, OR YELLOW-BELLIED WOODPECKER. 
 
 This is the only one of the family that can justly be 
 called the enemy 
 of the farmer, and 
 examination has 
 proved thajt he 
 does, on the 
 
 ' %%?: v^-! ; 1 
 
 '■k 
 
 whole, more good -^*7'|?.^ 
 than harm. ^^ 
 
 Figure 5 shows 
 the little pits he 
 drills, in regular 
 lines, in the bark 
 of forest trees and 
 sometimes in 
 apple trees; and 
 when the pits fill 
 with sap he 
 drinks it as if it 
 were nectar itself. 
 
 Fig. 
 
 yellow-bellied Woodpeckel". 
 
 Harmful in.sects are attracted by 
 
 5^fi!7^viS' 
 
48 
 
 HIKl) WON I. IK 
 
 \\ 
 
 !l 
 
 I 
 1 
 
 1 \ 
 
 this sap, when it runs, and the number that are 
 destroyed by the birds is thought to balance the loss 
 to the tree, though it sometimes happens that the 
 tree dies in a year or two from being so bled by them. 
 
 Those of you who have seen maple sugar made 
 from the sap of the sugar maple will think the bird 
 very cunning to find a sugar camp for his own. 
 
 Another woodpecker does an equally curious thing. 
 
 I was riding one day in a park in southern California, 
 
 and a tree was pointed out to me that had holes as 
 
 close as these of the Sapsucker filled with acorns. A 
 
 woodpecker had bored the holes and filled them for 
 
 a winter store. The nuts were wedged in so tightly 
 
 it would not have been c-c^^y to get them out. In 
 
 the same line, but showing even greater intelligence, 
 
 is the use in Mexico of a hollow stalk. The birds 
 
 make holes and press acorns through them in autumn, 
 
 so that they drop one by one till the hollow tube is 
 
 filled. When other food fails the woodpecker draws 
 
 out his acorns, not from the place at which he put 
 
 them in but from the floor of his storehouse. 
 
 I \ 
 
A SECOND SPARROW STUDY. 
 
 'X'HIS time it is a little company of sparrows on 
 
 * the ground. Here we have all the ages and 
 
 varieties. We call them brown birds; but see the 
 
 gray, slate, tan. and other browns almost to black. 
 
 Trace the colors in wing and tail feathers; note 
 the shapes and sizes of patches. Did you know that 
 the wing feathers were bird finger nails numbered in 
 different species according to their need .!* Pairs of 
 tail feathers, too, have their convenient length, differ- 
 ent in sparrows, swallows, and other species. Watch 
 the sparrows as they rise into the air; some birds 
 which fly well could not do it so easily. The tail 
 helps to tell the story of rising and falling. 
 
 Get the wing of a fowl and see from what bones the 
 quills grow out — primary, secondary, and coverts; 
 that is, quills of the hand, quills of the middle joint, 
 and quills of the upper joint. 
 
 The cut of the wings and tail would make a bird- 
 study all by itself; we can begin it while we are 
 learning to know the birds. 
 
 The size of the bird is another point for study; we 
 begin it when two or more birds are compared. 
 
 By this time you have gained more than you can 
 
t ■ 
 
 50 
 
 B/A'J^ IVOK/.l' 
 
 that have to "^^\\^^ \1\^ ^^,^,1 that yor .na 
 cameras more 4"'^'\b- ^^ »^« ^"'^ ^^j',, ,„a 
 
 .,.u hivf be«' '1 <*> be a naturalist l'U( u n. 
 
 V^Z. sec- l.u. .mcc. and that ..1..,.^ ■ ■ on , 
 
 seen but yourself. -,1 , 
 
 U is.L fasluo. tu r.d .at,U with en 
 
 Span—,; first, fo, com.nR , ; A"' '"^^ ' ' 
 
 " , . . , Hill thi- lirsi 'H ' did I 
 
 then lor thriving so. Bittheni.i 
 
 „f thrir own accord. »,n.!.t is n... trfau. 
 
 air iiKulc their voics more sha p tlian -^ 
 
 fi^of the- have driven av it. s -, 
 
 !™>, "^' 'VI -el ' . >-ven 'hat, the may - ot 
 
 '"' " ,od. On. ,.,houl'knov as well as 
 have mean, to d, U" _^^^ ,„. 
 
 :e;/und;"n En- sh'..irro. ways, and soon 
 
 r^^: them all b.u.U ,:un. "^^^ :Z:Z 
 son who would n ,ss the act. ...cheev.n: ,t ..rowmes 
 wito stay when .■ er birds ..re gone. 
 
 iish 
 
 come 
 it our 
 >. It 
 
 ft~ 
 
r I 
 
 ! 
 
 !i 
 
 
 THE SONG SPARROW. 
 
 I! I 
 
THE SONG SPARROW AND THE CHIPPING SPARROW. 
 
 SOME birds are like the shyest wild flowers, living 
 far from people's homes and very hard to find. 
 Others are like the buttercups and dandelions, which 
 grow everywhere on our lawns and in city parks. I 
 suppose by many people the jolly little dandelions are 
 called weeds. One bird is almost like a weed. 
 
 Though he, too, lives along the waysides and in 
 the parks and gardens, no one would compare the 
 Song Sparrow to a weed, for he gives much pleasure by 
 singing a clear, merry song as soon as the February 
 snows have melted. All summer he sings, and on 
 into the fall. Even in the winter, on warm days, he 
 sometimes shows that he remembers his little summer 
 melody. 
 
 Look at our beautiful representative opposite, as he 
 rests on the big dock weed over the water and pours 
 out his song. Would you know that he was a spar- 
 row if you had no one to help you .'* 
 
 In the first place, he is about the size of an English 
 Sparrow, though more slender, and his colors are 
 a plain gray-brown. But you have learned that a 
 female English Sparrow is also gray and brown. 
 That is true; many sparrows have these colors, but 
 
52 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 the gray and brown of the Song Sparrow is in streaks 
 or lines, not in unbroken patches, as in the Enghsh 
 
 Sparrow. ., i i 
 
 The slender figure, the long tail, and a general 
 neat look will help you to tell the American bird 
 from the foreigner. The Song Sparrow is shy, and 
 will hide in the nearest bush, while you all know we 
 can hardly call the English Sparrow shy. 
 
 i 
 
 CHIPPING SPARROW. 
 
 Another native sparrow is the Chipping Sparrow. 
 He is still slimmer than the Song Sparro^N , and \years 
 a cap of dull reddish brown. 
 
 The Song Sparrow builds on the sT-ound, often 
 hiding her nest under a tuft of grass or in a thicket. 
 Chippy builds in bushes and always lines her nest 
 with hairs from a horse's mane or tail. You do not 
 see vvhere the bird gets them ? She hunts along the 
 fence or posts, where a horse stands, and finds them 
 caught on some crack in the wood. 
 
 You learned when you read about the English 
 Sparrow that the male and female diffx<. in looks, 
 but the male Song Sparrows and Chipp -: Sparrows 
 look just like the female. It is only whta the male 
 flies to the top of a bush or to the limb of a tree, and 
 raising his head pours out a song from his little throat. 
 
THE SPARROW. 
 
 53 
 
 that you know which is which. Both these birds are 
 much the color of dry leaves, grass, and the ground 
 on which they spend their lives. Can you tell why t 
 
 The Chipping Sparrow's name refers to his song, 
 which sounds like the syllable chip repeated quickly, 
 — chip, chip, chip, etc. 
 
 These two native sparrows have short, thick bills 
 like that of the English Sparrow, but I think they 
 make better use of them than he does. If you could 
 examine the bill very closely, you would see that, 
 though it is so short and thick, the tip is quite sharp 
 and delicate. With this tip the sparrow picks up seeds 
 so fine that you could hardly see them. Remember 
 that their eyes are not only sharp, but are not so far 
 from the ground as yours. These seeds are then 
 crushed in their strong bills, the husk rolled out 
 and the kernel eaten. All over the ground the little 
 sparrows hunt, and many a weed which would grow 
 up to plague the farmer is destroyed by them. Hun- 
 dreds of insects, too, — moths, beetles, and grubs, — 
 they find and eat. 
 
 Let' us record in our notebooks what we have 
 learned by comparing the three sparrows we have 
 met, — the English Sparrow, the Song Sparrow, and 
 the Chipping Sparrow. 
 
 y 
 
 II 
 
HOW BIRDS PASS THE NIGHT. 
 
 YOU must <^ret up very early if you expect to find 
 the birds still asleep; they go to bed as soon as 
 it is dark, and have had their first breakfast long 
 before vou are awake. 
 
 No one need call them ; the first faint light m the 
 east finds them up, ready for a long and active day. 
 
 If you should happen to go out before the birds are 
 awake, or should startle them in the evening afte.' 
 they have gone to bed, where do you think you would 
 find them, and how would their beds look ? 
 
 Many of you, I have no doubt, think of them as 
 sleepincrall ni'.,dit in their nests, cuddling close to each 
 other, and warmed and protected by their mother. 
 It is true that for two or three weeks of their lives 
 young nestlings sleep in the nests or holes where they 
 have%een hatched, and chicks which have no nests 
 hide their downy bodies under their mother's wings; 
 but this lasts but a short time, and after the young 
 birds leave the nests, at the age of two or three weeks, 
 they never again sleep in a bed. 
 
 No stretching out of tired limbs on comfortable 
 mattresses, no soft pillows for tired heads, no tucking 
 in, and no one to say " Good night." All these com- 
 
HOW BIRDS PASS THE NIGHT. 
 
 55 
 
 forts you look forward to when bedtime comes, but 
 how would you fe^^l to hear your mother say instead, 
 " It is bedtime now, stand on one leg and go to 
 sleep "; or if she expected you to hang all night from 
 a crack in the wall; or, worst of all, if your bed con- 
 sisted of a pool of water, on which you were peace- 
 fully to float with your head tucked under your arm ? 
 Almost all the singing birds, after they leave the 
 nest, perch on a twig as your canary does, the hind 
 toe bent around to meet the front toes, the feathers 
 fluffed out, the head snugly hidden under the wing. 
 
 Parrots hang themselves up at night by their beaks, 
 and woodpeckers in their holes and Chimney Swifts in 
 chimneys hold themselves up by their feet and their 
 stiff tail feathers. Hawks and owls stand upright 
 while they sleep, but hens and turkeys bend their feet 
 so that their breasts rest on the perch. The wading 
 birds, herons, storks, and also the geese draw up one 
 foot, hide it in the soft feathers, and close their eyes. 
 
 Their balance must be easier to keep than ours. 
 There are many things besides standing on one foot, 
 which are easier for birds than for us, and positions 
 which they take easily when awake naturally suit 
 them best for sleeping. If you or I coul( float as 
 easily as a duck, and if we wore waterproof down 
 quilts, a night on an icy lake might seem as pleasant 
 to us as one in a bed. 
 
THE BLUE JAY. 
 
 lent 
 
 ! 
 
 li 
 
 Fig. e. — Blue Jay. 
 
 iwiunardlyknow 
 what he is. 
 
 But if he is with 
 two or three jolly 
 friends, and the weather is pleasant, he fills the woods 
 with his screams and calls. They are not sweet 
 sounds, but are not unpleasant to hear, particularly 
 in winter, when few birds are here. Some are like 
 a hawk's cry, and some like an ungreased vvheel- 
 
 barrow. , 
 
 While the Jay is making these sounds, he otten 
 hops up the tree, from one branch to the next, or 
 accompanies his cries with an odd motion of his 
 wings and tail. He is a good deal of a clown, and 
 
 If! 
 
THE BL L E J A Y. 
 
 57 
 
 as a pet amusing. He learns to speak a few words, 
 which is a great * in a bird. 
 
 It is not safe t. > e valuables about where he can 
 reach them, for he is a great collector. When he is 
 free, he gathers acorns and chestnuts and stores them 
 in hollow trees. 
 
 The Jay has without doubt planted many trees 
 where they would not otherwise have been found, for 
 he drops the nuts as he flies off with them, and if 
 they fall into good soil the Jay's children's children 
 long after may gather fruit from the trees that will 
 
 spring up. 
 
 The Jay's neighbors do not like him particularly, 
 for he has one very bad habit. He cannot resist egg 
 hunting. But for this he might not be regarded with 
 disfavor, for he sometimes renders good service. In 
 fact, when an owl comes into the woods the Jay is 
 often the first to discover him and announce his 
 presence to the other birds. 
 
 The Jay is closely related to the Crow in this coun- 
 try, and in Europe to the jackdaw and magpi'- The 
 whole family are talkative, bustling birds, very 'ight- 
 fingered we should call them if they had fingers, but 
 for all that they are amusing, and we should miss 
 them if they were gone. 
 
li 
 
 i I 
 
 w 
 
 BIRD HOMES. 
 
 E pity any boy who has no home ; kind people 
 give money to provide a place where he can 
 have a bed at night, a roof over his head, fire and food. 
 Animals rarely have homes, and yet no one pities 
 them. They have their hair, fur, or shell covering to 
 keep off rain; they sleep on the ground without 
 catching cold, so that they really have no need of a 
 home such as we are accustomed to. 
 
 Certain animals, as you probably are already think 
 ing, do have caves, dens, or burrows in which they 
 spend the night, the cold or wet weather, or to which 
 they flee for safety. Most of these animals, you will 
 see, are intelb'gent ; in fact, the more wisdom the 
 animal has learned in Nature's great school, the more 
 likely he is to have a place which is his own, 
 
 Ijirds, you will say, are intelligent, and yet they 
 spend the night or rainy weather in thick trees and 
 have no homes. 
 
 This is true of m. st of them, during most of their 
 lives, and from what you know of feathers, you can 
 yourselves tell why they do not need roofs or warmth.. 
 But imagine a bird without feathers. He would need 
 warmth and shelter surely. Then think when it is 
 
BIRD HOMES. 
 
 59 
 
 that a bird lacks feathers. In the moulting season ? 
 Hardly ; few fall at a time, so that he is never wholly 
 without covering. When the bird leaves the shell "i 
 That is the time, surely, when he needs protection, 
 and the wise and loving bird-mother goes to work, long 
 before even her eggs are laid, to build the home for her 
 young. This we call a nest ; it is really a nursery, is 
 it not, a home, not for the parents, but for the young 
 birds ? 
 
 THE NEST AS AN OVEN. 
 
 The nest is first used as an oven. What does the 
 bird bake in this oven? Where does she get the 
 heat ? The last question is the easier and you can 
 answer it yourself by holding your pussy cat against 
 your cheek. Where does the warmth come from.!* 
 Not all from the fur, but from the warm blood running 
 through her veins. 
 
 So the bird's little body is warm, warmer even than 
 your cat's. To keep the warmth of the fire an oven is 
 made with walls and a door ; so a nest is often built 
 with walls ; the mother herself is the door. When 
 she snuggles down on the eggs ,ery little warmth can 
 
 escape. 
 
 But what is she baking? The eggs themselves. 
 As the little seeds grow or develop when the earth is 
 
6o 
 
 HIKD nOKI.D. 
 
 Ill 
 
 i 
 
 8 
 
 warm, so the little bodies of the birds grower develop 
 in the warm eggs, till what looked like nothing but 
 yellow and white liquid hatches out a little bird with 
 claws, beak, and the beginnings of feathers. 
 
 All this the bird feels, even if she does not think it 
 as we think thoughts, so that when she is mated and 
 her mate and she have chosen the best spot for their 
 nest, she works very busily at building, or weaving, or 
 
 Fig. 7. — Bird Homes. 
 
 carpentering, whatever her nature tells her she can do 
 best, and before the eggs are ready she has a nest 
 in which to lay them. (The double nest in the pic- 
 ture is quite a curiosity. It belonged to Chipping 
 
 Sparrows.) 
 
 I have spoken as if all birds felt alike and built 
 nests which all served as ovens and as homes for 
 
 ■^rgswismi^^w^:}!- 
 
BIND HOMES. 
 
 6l 
 
 the young. No one, till he reads or learns a great 
 deal about birds, can imagine what an extraordinary 
 variety of nests there are. 
 
 In the first place, a large number of the water birds, 
 ducks, and divers, and all the family to which our hen 
 belongs, do not need a nest in which the young shall 
 stay. For their young come out of the shell warmly 
 clothed in such thick down, that they can either 
 paddle right off in the cool water or run about on the 
 land ; we call them chicks, and the others, who are 
 naked and helpless when hatched, we call nestlings. 
 At night their mother's feathers are their beds; no 
 need of a nursery for them. 
 
 The eggs have to be baked, however, so that often 
 the nests of such birds are warm and snug, especially 
 if they are in damp or cold places. If the eggs are 
 laid in sunnv places, on the hot sea sand or rocks, for 
 instance, there is no need of walls, and in such places 
 the nest hardly deserves the name; it is really noth- 
 ing but a hollow in the sand or a shelf on th/i rocks. 
 
 Many gulls lay their eggs in this careless way. 
 There are certain cunning animals who like raw eggs 
 very much, ad they come prowling about, break the 
 shells, and later eat young birds as well. 
 
 Certain birds, to escape these four-legged thieves, 
 have moved up a story and built platforms in the 
 trees. These had to be pretty strong, however, for 
 
 Z«ai''K'-^'.V-M*3S5ar=lr 
 
62 
 
 lURD WORLD. 
 
 the mother bird may be large, as in the case of the 
 heron, so that the platform must hold her as well as 
 the eggs. Here is real building to be done ; sticks to 
 be laid in a more or less clever fashion. In a lati i 
 lesson we shall see more of the ways of bird 
 builders. 
 
 KiG. S. -„, Kgg of Canada Jay; ^ of Crow UUckb.r.l: ., "f W.kkI pecker. 
 
 
 I 
 
 >"'" 
 
THE KINGBIRD. 
 
 I N Wilson's time, Tyrant Flycatcher was the name 
 I by which this bird was commonly known, and this 
 name, though clumsier, really tells more about his 
 nature than Kingbird. 
 A tyrant in Greece 
 was a man who drove 
 out the reigning king 
 or rightful ruler. The 
 eagle has long been 
 called the King of 
 Birds, though by this 
 nothing more was 
 meant than r'^^ he 
 was am.:,: t' ih-'^ most 
 
 Fig. 9. — Kingbird 
 
 powerful and majestic 
 
 birds. Even the eagle, 
 
 however, is attacked and driven off by this Tyrant 
 
 Flycatcher. 
 
 Eagles are scarce to-day, and a battle between the 
 two birds is a rare sight, but it is a common sight to 
 see the Kingbird attack and drive off a Crow— a bird 
 nearly three times as large as himself. 
 
 Those of you that have read or heard about the 
 
64 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 \\ 
 
 Spanish Armada remember how the little English 
 ships outsailed the large, unwieldy Spanish vessels, 
 ran close under their guns, fired, and were off again 
 before the Spanish ships could return the fire ; so the 
 Kip<?bird, mounting above the Crow, darts upon him 
 froui' above and flies off before the clumsy Crow can 
 
 strike him. 
 
 Occasionally the Kingbird actually settles upon the 
 Crow's head or back, and rides some distance before 
 the Crow can shake him off. When you learn that 
 the Kingbird attacks all birds, great and small, who 
 come near him, and with a harsh twitter drives them 
 away, you will fancy him a very unpleasant bird to 
 have about. But you will have a greater respect for 
 him when you learn that it is only in the breed'ng 
 season that the Kingbird loses his temper so easily, 
 and it is but fair to say that it is only birds that 
 wander into the neighborhood of his wife and nest 
 that he drives away so rudely. 
 
 Flycatcher was the name by which he was known, 
 for outside the swallows we have no more skilful fly- 
 catcher. From the wire on which he is sitting, the 
 post, or the mullein stalk, he flies out a short distance, 
 makes a sweep, and returns to his perch. If you are 
 near him, you hear at some time during his short jour- 
 ney a sharp click, like the snapping of a watch case. 
 That sourd means death to some winged insect. All 
 
 I. n 
 
A PAIR OF KINGBIRDS. 
 
 ¥^ w».irt ^*fr*Mi^ 
 
I 
 
 i 
 
i^.^. 
 
 THE KINGBIRD. 
 
 65 
 
 clay long the Kingbird sits in some place where he 
 can watch in the air about him, and all day long his 
 bill closes over flies, gnats, and beetles. 
 
 Many, if not most, of the insects which he seizes are 
 at sorhe time of their lives harmful to the farmer, so 
 that the Kingbird's work in feeding himself and his 
 children destroys thousands of the farmer's enemies. 
 
 A Kingbird's nest is very easily found. You can 
 imagine that a bird that guards his home so thor- 
 oughly will take no great pains to conceal it. It is a 
 rather bulky nest, often placed in apple trees, and 
 looks very warm and comfortable. The outside is 
 very apt to be ornamented with clusters of withered 
 flowers of certain plants, and often long strings of 
 pack thread hang from the nest. Inside, the eggs 
 and the young rest on horsehair. 
 
 The Kingbird's colors are brown and white, with 
 :i dark, almost black, head and tail. Curiously enough, 
 a few feathers on the head are colored bright scarlet, 
 hut so few are the feathers and so well concealed, as 
 a rule, that you would see many Kingbirds very near 
 \()u without ever seeing this red patch. 
 
 When the bird is angry, however, or excited, he 
 can, like most fly-catchers, lift slightly the feathers of 
 ills head, so that probably many of the birds he has 
 based have seen more of the red than you have. 
 
 The female Kingbird lacks these red feathers, but. 
 
m. 
 
 -0 ^t**Km~ 
 
 W^ 
 
 66 
 
 B//iD JVOA'Ln. 
 
 VJ/J 
 
 unlike the female Bluebird ." 1 Oriole, looks otherwise 
 exactly like the male. See whether this was true of 
 the other fly-catchers of which you have read. 
 
 When the Kingbird's young have left the nest, and 
 no longer need "protection, the family stay in the 
 north a very short time. By September they have 
 left New England, and in the winter are in Cen- 
 tral America. Who of you know why they should 
 leave a country where there are winter frosts ? Is it 
 because they themselves are afraid of cold ? 
 
 I think you would all have liked for once to see the 
 Kingbird get the worst of a battle, which Wilson long 
 ago^observed. We all like to see any one who is 
 a little inclined to bully others given a lesson. This 
 Kingbird attacked a Red-headed Woodpecker on a 
 fence rail. Every time he swept down expecting to 
 give the woodpecker a smart rap on the head, the 
 woodpecker pulled with his third toe and slipped 
 around the rail, so that the Kingbird struck only the 
 empty air. The woodpecker saved himself in this 
 way so many times that it seemed to Mr. Wilson that 
 he was enjoying the game. It would not be strange, 
 from what \ve know of the woodpecker, if he enjoyed 
 a joke. We hardly expect the Kingbird to do so. 
 All kinds of birds have their place, and we honor this 
 one because he is brave and useful. 
 
^:ivrit '-w 
 
ff^^ 
 
 LOUISIANA WATER THRUSHES, 
 
 
 -^r— ■;■•.• .-- ~irr.-»^o/A;--t?f:i^J«r.''«a!!f:...i 
 
THE WARBLERS. 
 
 YOU have already heard about the Owls and the 
 Woodpeckers, two families, the members of 
 which are easy to recognize. The Warblers are 
 another large Bird World family. They are not 
 named, as you might well suppose, from their fine 
 voices, for few of them can sing as well even as your 
 old friend the Robin. But, like many birds who lack 
 fine voices, the Warblers make up for their loss by 
 fine feathers and a very dainty appearance. Yellow, 
 orange, and blue are very common colors among 
 them, and they are nearly all small, neat-looking 
 birds. The Ovenbird, which gets its name from its 
 oven-shaped nest, is a Warbler, and its cousins, the 
 Water Thrushes, which you see on the opposite page, 
 lK4ong, of course, to the same family. You will find 
 the pictures of three other Warblers in this book ; 
 two of them are the Redstart and the Summer Yellow- 
 bird. Can you find the third.? 
 
11! 
 
 Hi 
 
 ii 
 
 A CLEVER WREN. 
 
 WHEN a pair of House Wrens decide that they 
 want to build their nest in a certain place, it 
 takes a good deal to prevent them from doing so. 
 Sometimes several birds, who build in similar situa- 
 tions, all want one particular spot, — a knot hole in 
 a tree or a bird box. Bluebirds, White-bellied Swal- 
 lows and House Wrens often struggle violently m 
 nesting time, and, as in other struggles, it is not 
 always the largest bird that wins. 
 
 A gentleman once saw a pair of wrens outwit some 
 swallows in the following manner. There had been a 
 loner struggle over a box, built on the house, with the 
 usual round hole for an entrance. The wrens had 
 pulled twigs into the box. The swallows had 
 promptly pulled them out. The scolding of the 
 wrens and the sharp twitter of the swallows were 
 heard all day about the box. 
 
 One morninfi the wren was seen hauling along an 
 unusuallv stout twig, as thick as a kad pencil. It 
 was too heavy to carry strai-ht to the box, but he 
 manacred to get it into the lower branches of a pear 
 tree. Tnd finally up t > the box. Here he was met by 
 the she-bird, and t.^gether they pulled one end mto 
 
 ■ .*; «*1iita' 
 
^ CLEVER WKEN. 
 
 69 
 
 the hole, and there they fa.^tened it, so that it blocked 
 the entrance. When the swallows returned, they 
 could not squeeze past it. They tried to pull it out, 
 but it had evidently been secured inside. The little 
 wrens could push past easily ; and having now the 
 field to themselves, raised their brood in peace. 
 
 All day long the wren mother goes backwards and 
 forwards bringing flies and insects or whatever food 
 she can find. A lover of birds once .vatchec' this 
 bird, and saw her go 278 times in a day. 
 
 A number of wrens' nests are ur t^r'* One 
 wonders whether they are built to take . hige in 
 during severe weather. 
 
 AUDUBON AND THE HOUSE WREN. 
 
 A Wren lived just outside Audubon's window, and 
 amused him with his bright song. " Having procured 
 some flies and spiders," says Audubon, " I now and 
 then threw some of them towards him, when he would 
 seize them with great alacrity, eat some himself, and 
 carry the rest to his mate. In this manner he became 
 daily more acquainted with u. , entered the room, and 
 once or twice sang while there. One morning, sud- 
 denly closing the window, I easily caught him an-^ 
 held him in my hand, and finished his likencL-s, after 
 wliich I restored him to liberty." 
 
 ~»-iT^: ■ '^i5fl; ,*?««;-. 
 
'■■>•• 
 
 hi 
 
 ^1 !!1 
 
 Y 
 
 THE WREN. 
 
 ()U have all laughed at the old vv 
 
 om 
 
 an who lived 
 - Tn a'shoe! but"to a House Wren this would not 
 seem so strange a home. Let me tell you a few of 
 the odd nesting places this bird has chosen. 
 
 Generally she builds in a hole in a tree ( r m a bird 
 box, but almost anything which is hollow inside seems 
 to do. One nest tha- I saw was in the broken end of 
 a waterspout. Instead of water coming out of it, the 
 little wrens slipped in and out, carrymg sticks and 
 
 straws for a nest. 
 
 Another bird thought the inside of an awning 
 would make a f^ne home, but when the middle of the 
 day came, the awning had to come down to shade the 
 windows, and all ihe rubbish rolled out. The next 
 morning the bird was up early, and before noon had 
 collected another mass of sticks. Day after day the 
 wren kept up the attempt, declining to make use ot 
 a box which was nailed up near by. 
 
 Perhaps the strangest story comes from Washing- 
 ton. A workman hung his coat up for a little while, 
 and vhen he took it down and put his hand in the 
 pocket be vvrs astonished to find sticks and feathers 
 in it and r%cn more so when a wren appeared near 
 
 ^kv- >i 
 
THE WREN. 
 
 71 
 
 by and scolded him 
 furiously for presum- 
 inir to wear his own 
 coat. 
 
 He was a kind- 
 hearted man and would 
 gladly have lent the 
 wren his coat pocket 
 if he had been able to 
 do without it ; how- 
 ever, it came out all 
 right, for he hung up 
 an old coat instead, 
 and the happy birds 
 laid their eggs and 
 hatched them in the 
 place of their own 
 choosing. 
 
 House Wrens and 
 cats are great enemies. 
 The moment the little 
 bird spies the cat 
 prowling about, she 
 chatters and scolds, so that all the neighboring birds 
 know what the trouble is about. I am afraid Pussy 
 has s:iven the wren srood cause now and then to fear 
 and dislike her. 
 
 Kii;. 10. — Long-billed Marsh Wren. 
 
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 S^^ Rochester. New York 14609 US* 
 
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 ^= (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax 
 
72 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 Our wren is a cousin of Jenny Wren, the favorite 
 of all English children. Jenny is a smaller bird, and 
 she stays in England all the year, while our wren 
 leaves us in the fall for the south, where she can find 
 the insects which she eats. 
 
 Like the swallow and the Bluebird, the wren seems 
 glad to make his home near the homes of people, and 
 no one has ever accused him of doing anything but 
 good to the farmer or gardener. 
 
 To find the birds of the picture, — the Long-billed 
 Marsh Wrens, — we must go to some soft, wet place, 
 which in early spring may require the use of high 
 rubber boots. These birds are near cousins of the 
 House Wren, but choose to live among the cat-tails. 
 They have learned to weave, and instead of nesting 
 in holes or boxes they make their homes of rushes. 
 Regular basket-work it is, and the almost globular 
 nests hung in the reeds may hold eight or nme 
 chocolate eggs. 
 
 |«pr™^r- 
 
AT THE BATH. 
 
 If AVE you ever watched a canary going through 
 * * its morning bath? The thoroughness of the 
 cleansing is only matched by the bird's enjoyment of 
 it. But there is as much more pleasure in seeing a 
 free bird go through its daily wetting and drying and 
 preening as there is in every other free act of a free 
 bird. 
 
 Our little street gamins, English Sparrows, choos- 
 ing a mud puddle rather than go a little out of town 
 for a clean pool, are not worthy to represent the birds 
 of dainty ways. 
 
 One of my pleasant bird memories is of a little 
 stream, hardly more than a handbreadth wide, flowing 
 down a hill slope, from a spring in the neighborhood 
 of Saratoga, and making a little nest in the hollow of 
 a rock. I could almost have enclosed the brooklet 
 with my arms and measured its depth with my lead 
 pencil ; but for pretty sentiment, and the pleasure it 
 gave to the comers and goers at Elim, the summer 
 cottage of my friend, it will "go on forever." I could 
 fancy the birds saw from afar that single bright spot 
 on the steep hill — a jewel, dropped by a princess 
 of another world, with a ribbon on either side. 
 
Miii 
 
 74 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 1 
 
 The birds did not come to it as early in the morn- 
 ing as I should have expected ; perhaps they liked to 
 wait till the water should be wurmed a little, or per- 
 haps in Bird World a bath after eating is not thought 
 to be unhealthy. However that may be, from eight 
 o'clock, in rapid turn, in ones, twos, seldom more than 
 threes, they kept the 4ittle " Bath " in constant use till 
 evening twilight. 
 
 Such water lovers some of them were ! They made 
 it a shower bath by sending the splashes high over 
 their heads. They shook each feather in the water 
 for wetness and out of it for dryness. So clear was 
 the pure spring water, that it seemed like bathmg m 
 
 a mirror. , . r 
 
 Some of the birds would stop and preen their feath- 
 ers before they left the spot, but others would go to 
 the trees to complete their dainty toilets. Boys and 
 girls who think it a burden to keep their hair m 
 proper fashion should take a lesson from the birds. 
 Feathers have their price in care^taking as well as 
 other beautiful apparel. 
 
 It is not probably true that birds are afraid of cold 
 water. Tree Sparrows will spend from three to five 
 minutes, it is said, in water that flows directly from 
 melting snow, acting all the while as if the fluttering 
 of their wings and tails was perfect glee. 
 
 %^ia«f«?gKSiPBSsrffii4ifcjcr3\,x '^^r^j^ 
 
mmmm 
 
 wmmmmmmmmm 
 
 THE CATBIRD. • 
 
 He sits on a bra'ich of yon blossoming tree, 
 
 This mad-cnp cousin of Robin and Tlirush, 
 And sings without ceasing the whole morning long ; 
 
 Now wild, now tender, the wayward song 
 That Hows from his soft, gray, fluttering throat ; • 
 
 But often he stops in his sweetest note. 
 And shaking a flower from the blossoming bough, 
 Drawls out, " Mi-eu, mi-ow ! " 
 
 Edith M. Thomas. 
 
 LJOW often it happens that people are known by 
 A * their least agreeable trait. The harsh catcall, 
 "Mieu, miow! " is the least musical of the many notes 
 the Catbird utters. By his own song he is worthy a 
 place with singers of highest rank. It is this that 
 exasperates us so; but is it so much more strange 
 that he does not always employ his best powers than 
 that we do not live up to our best all the time .'' 
 
 The Catbird is the Mocking Bird of the north. 
 May and June are the months when his song seems 
 to come from the heart. Later in the season he 
 amuses himself with a variety of vocal entertain- 
 ments. 
 
 If you can read into his little picture, — slate color 
 for the upper parts, lighter slate and gray for under 
 
 I ??:i^v 
 
 ■ •^'-mm'.Mii"JA%i: 
 
) w 
 
 76 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 parts, and black for a crown, and a tail that the owner 
 is continually jerking, — you may surprise yourself 
 by discovering the bird some day, for he is by no 
 means unfamiliar with the thickets around village 
 homes. If you should ttiink you had done so, make 
 quite sure by looking for a reddish patch on the 
 under side of the tail, and a black bill. 
 
 It is said that a cat is fonder of places than of 
 persons. Not so c ar little Catbird, as a story told by 
 Miss Merriam has shown us. It is of a gentle old 
 lady, who lived in a cottage behind an old-fashioned 
 garden, whose rose-covered trellises, lilacs, and other 
 shrubs and tre' s made it a happy spot for a resting 
 place or a summer home both for birds and people. 
 
 The Catbird was the ''comrade and favorite " of the 
 owner of the cottage, who loved all birds and flowers. 
 The bird would call for her in the morning, till she 
 came to answer him with a whistle ; then he would 
 be satisfied, and would find a perch and pour out his 
 morning song. This would be repeated many times 
 a day in the little rests he took from his domestic 
 
 duties. 
 
 It was plain that the bird was fond of her society, 
 for when it happened one summer that the lady was 
 away from home when he came north, and the place 
 looked deserted, he found another place in which 
 to build his nest. When the old lady returned, she 
 
 ■^^>^^:^m^''^^^'''^:mm-wfm^ 
 
 i^ii'j. 
 
 1^^^^ 
 
THE CATBIRD. 
 
 77 
 
 missed her pet of many years, but as summer went 
 on, was sure that it was he who sometimes appeared 
 and sung to her in the garden at sunset. 
 
 All the bird students agree that the Catbird loves 
 to have a listener. 
 
 " Come forth ! " my Catbird calls to me, 
 " And hear me sing my cavatina " — 
 
 Lowell writes, and there are evil-minded critics who, 
 therefore, blame the bird for vanity ; but let us agree 
 with those who love the merry song and the good- 
 natured but capricious little singer. 
 
 This is one of the birds who has been so often on 
 trial for his life, because his ways have been so little 
 
 f^^I 
 
 'm^'^"^ 
 
78 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 known. Such an individual should have cuo of the 
 best of lawyers to plead his case. Several have 
 volunteered their services, and Mr. Nehrling's testi- 
 mony rests on special study. He says that the bird's 
 usefulness as an insect destroyer is so great that the 
 food it steals is of little * >iportance, and that "for 
 every cherry it takes, it c a thousand insects." 
 
 TO A SKYLARK. 
 
 JOYOUS as the morning, 
 Thou art laughing and scorning , 
 Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest. 
 
 Happy, happy liver. 
 With a soul as strong as a mountain river, 
 Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver, 
 Joy and jollity be with us both ! 
 Alas ! my journey, rugged and uneven, 
 Through prickly moors or dusty ways must wind ; 
 But hearing thee, or others of thy kind, 
 As full of gladness and as free of heaven, 
 1, with my fate contented, will plod on. 
 And hope for higher raptures, when life's day is done. 
 
 C. KoSSETTI. 
 
 '^^^^mm^im 
 
NEST BUILDERS. 
 
 AS we said in an earlier lesson, the building of a 
 ^ nest is a matter requiring skill to plan and deft- 
 ness to execute. We should do such work with 
 hands, but a little thought will show you how unfit a 
 bird's toes are for it. 
 
 The bill is the bird's best tool, and is, as you have 
 
 Fig. 12.— Osprey's Nest. 
 
 Copyright, Osprey Co., i%<fj. 
 
 learned, a chisel, a nut cracker, and a spade ; but ^ ou 
 may have yet to learn that it is a mason's trowel, and 
 even a needle. 
 
 ^ Hollows in the ground, a bunch of seaweed, rude 
 platforms of sticks are among the simplest kinds of 
 
 yM}.-cr^T^m:^ 
 
 'TW'^i^^mKE':^mmmmmfm^'% 
 
I i 
 
 I; 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 80 
 
 Bf/fl) WOULD. 
 
 nests. The Osprey, or Fishhawk, uses plenty of 
 material but not much skill, and as he adds to his 
 nest each year, it often becomes a huge pile, big 
 enough to fill a wagon. Such a Fishhawk's nest is 
 shown in Fig. 12. 
 
 Before I describe the more wonderful woven struc- 
 ture which the word nest calls up to our minds, let me 
 speak of two more styles of building, — the holes in 
 sand or w^ood, and the plastered nests of mud. 
 
 The woodpecker's chisel enables him to make a 
 hole to order where he wants it, but many other birds, 
 such as Bluebirds and owls, love the natural hollows 
 in decayed limbs. 
 
 The birds that li\ e in holes in the earth generally 
 choose sand; you can imagine why they 1 -efer it to 
 clay ; and river banks give them a chance to build 
 horizontally rather than perpendicularly. 
 What advantage is this to them .? 
 One bird, the Burrowing Owl, digs out a long, 
 winding passage underground, at the end of which 
 he has a chamber for his nest. 
 
 The mud nests, or plastered nests, are built of wet 
 mud, taken in the bird's bill and stuck to rocks or 
 walls of houses. Have Swallows build a nest shaped 
 sometb".ig like a bottle, all of grains of mud. These 
 birds gather about mud puddles in May, dinping in 
 their bills., fluttering, twittering, lighting, and flying 
 
 '^^^^sm^-Mm^^m^^r'^^m^-^^mmi 
 
NEST BUILDERS. 
 
 8i 
 
 off, a happy and pretty company of masons. Some- 
 times in very wet weather their bottIe-«haped homes 
 crumble and fall to pieces, though they, too, know 
 that eaves will serve them as an umbrella. 
 
 We come now to the woven nests. Of these there 
 are so many and of such variety that whole books 
 could be written about them. Very few, however, are 
 more graceful and more cleverly built than our own 
 Oriole's ; the nest is so common on our elms that we 
 do not realize how wonderful a work it is. 
 
 Look at a piece of felt, such as is used in making 
 soft hats. You see it is made of small threads closely 
 woven together. An Oriole's nest is like a felt pouch. 
 First, the Oriole fastens strong string or thread, which 
 he has twitched off from fibrous bark, to the twigs to 
 which he has chosen to hang the pouch. These serve 
 as a framework for the nest and must be very strong. 
 How does he fasten them ? Just as you would, except 
 that he ties his knots with his beak. He makes a 
 loop, sticks the end through, and pulls it tight. 
 
 When the sk -'leton is finished, it shows the depth 
 and general shape of the nest. This is generally as 
 long as a man's hand. The bottom is rounded and 
 the neck narrowed a little. Now comes the weaving. 
 Short threads snatched from ropes, clotheslines, bits 
 c tow or milkweed stalks are woven in and out 
 through the first long threads, till the nest is so thick 
 
8i 
 
 BIRD WORLD 
 
 . 4 
 
 M '.-. 
 
 \\ 
 
 I 
 
 and strong that it often hangs through the rain and 
 snow of two winters after the bird has used it. 
 
 There is generally a lining in the round end on 
 which the eggs are laid. Here the mother sits swing- 
 ing in the wind till the young are hatched, and there 
 they swing like sailor boys in a snug hammock. 
 The leaves above them keep off the sun and rain. 
 What bird could wish for a better home ? 
 
 Few American birds are such skilful weavers as the 
 Oriole, and none dare to hang their nests so close to 
 the ends of twigs. The other weavers, too, generally 
 use coarser material. Instead of fine woolen or silken 
 threads they use roots, grass, tough barks, or even 
 twigs ; but many make wonderfully neat nests for all 
 that. We have room to speak of only two before 
 we leave America and hear about some foreign nest 
 builders. 
 
 The Humming Bird's nest is as tiny as its owner; 
 it is a Hale cup saddled on a twig and generally 
 covered on the outside with the same gray lichens 
 which grow on the twig itself. At a distance it looks 
 like a little gray knot on a knotty bough, and most 
 eyes, even if they rest on it, fail to see it. 
 
 The Song Sparrow and many of his family build 
 on the ground and weave into the nest so much dry 
 grass that the nest, half hidden under a tuft, is very 
 hard to make out. It is only when the mother bird 
 
 ■JS^^XfLL 
 
NEST BUILDERS. 
 
 83 
 
 flies out from under our feet, as it were, that we see 
 it and its pretty speckled eggs. 
 
 In foreign countries nests are built in much the 
 same styles and for much the same purposes as here. 
 When the weather is " irm, of course the nests need 
 not be so warmly built but wherever little nal-ed birds 
 arc born, shelter must be provided for ., and 
 
 skilful bills are cutting, weaving, plaster jr even 
 sewing to make a home for the coming young. " Sew- 
 ing, you ask, "Can a bird sew?" Yes, and the bill 
 is its needle. The little bird who sews lives in India, 
 and is so famous for its si il that people call it the 
 Tailor-bird. It builds in the gardens, and several 
 people have written about it. Here is what one 
 gentleman says: " It makes its nest of cotton, wool, 
 and various other soft mater'als, and draws together 
 one leaf or more, generally two leaves, on each side 
 of the nest and stitches t n togethr;r with cotton, 
 either woven by itsei*, or cotton thread picked up, 
 and after passing the > in vad through the leaf it makes 
 a knot at the ■ 'd to h v a.'' 
 
 -•',*%, . 
 
 ■^•■^i*^'^, 
 
THE SWALLOWS. 
 
 How can I tell the signals and the signs 
 By which one heart another heart divines ? 
 
 WHAT would n't we give to know what it is they 
 are saying! — these two happy birds. I have 
 watched pairs and companies of swallows ever since 
 I was a child, and I cannot yet find any words that 
 tell all that I think it is. 
 
 A year or two ago I watched a swallow family ai 
 Baker's Island, a few miles out from the N rth Shore 
 of Massachusetts Bay, for a whole afternoon, just 
 when the young ones were proving their wings and 
 learning to fly. My piazza faced the bay from the 
 top of a cliff, and, to keep the Island cows from going 
 too near the edge, a single rail fence had been set up. 
 It was from one of these rails that the start was to be 
 made and the lesson given. 
 
 A few yards away wy family were learning to swim, 
 and I looked from one bit of teaching to the other, 
 like a school inspector. I am sure I do not need to 
 tell which class took the prize of my highest approval. 
 The swallow children were so near in size to their 
 parents, that I only knew the teachers by their ster.dy 
 flight. There were three in the class, but I was quite 
 
. -n 
 
 A HAPPY PAIR. 
 
 ■kfe'Tl-'C 
 
 i':i:JfC-\'rti.'is;v4'; 
 
i 
 
 i 
 
THE SWALLOWS. 
 
 85 
 
 sure that one stayed in its place on the rail till almost 
 the last moment. I tried to make myself acquainted 
 with each, but a shout from the swimmers and bathers 
 would draw my attention to them just at a critical 
 time, and I could not be perfectly sure the flyers did 
 not change places. What might a real bird student 
 have done, if he had been interested to know the 
 swallow's ways.f* 
 
 He might have searched the little island over to 
 learn where this family went when the lesson ended, 
 and seen what they did the next day, and the next ; 
 and if he had watched and studied with heart as well 
 as eyes, there might have been something to give to 
 bird-lovers in a poem or stor}'. This is what is being 
 done to make Bird World better understood. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE OF THE SWALLOW. 
 
 And is the swallow gone? 
 
 Who beheld it ? 
 
 Which way sailed it ? 
 Farewell bade it none ? 
 
 No mortal saw it go : 
 But who doth hear 
 Its summer cheer 
 
 As it flitteth to and fro ? 
 
 So the freed spirit flies ! 
 
 From its surrounding rlay 
 
 It steals away, 
 Like the swallow from the skies. 
 
 Whither.? wherefore doth it go.' 
 
 'T is all unknown ; 
 
 We feel alone 
 That a void is left below. 
 
 William Hownr. 
 
'M-t'^M' 
 
 THE BARN SWALLOW. 
 
 WHEN a farmer builds a new barn, he plans 
 stalls for his horses, stanchions for his cows, 
 pens and coops for the pigs and hens, and often in 
 the attic he cuts holes and builds httle ledges for 
 
 ^'' One'guest who is quite sure to wish to come he 
 hardly ever arranges for; but when the barn is fin- 
 ished and its great door stands wide open^ some soft 
 May dav, the ^swallow flies in and out, and, perching 
 on the wide beams under the roof, chooses a pl ace for 
 his nest. One farmer that I knew, thought of the 
 swallows when he built his barn, and drove a horse- 
 shoe into a beam. Each year the swallows build a 
 nest on this support. . 
 
 Although the farmer does not exactly invite the 
 swallows. Vet nearly all farmers are glad to have them 
 come glad to hear them twittering on the ridgepole, 
 ghd to see them flying over the grass or up into the 
 bricrht sky. " The swallows have come is one ot 
 the^est bits of news which the farmer's children can 
 brincr to their mother. It tells that summer is near, 
 just Is the first Bluebirds brought notice that winter 
 was over. 
 
 9^ 
 
 wm 
 
 '^'..VT'^mi^m 
 
THE BARN SWALLOW. 
 
 87 
 
 You have read already about the mud nests of the 
 
 swallows ; in them cue young are fed, and from them 
 
 the young are coaxed by their parents to try their 
 
 wings. They fly only a short distance at first, their 
 
 parents %ing past them, calling and showing them 
 
 how easy it is. Soon the wings of the little ones 
 
 grow stronger, and before many days t' young are 
 
 skilful enough in the 
 
 air to taVe food from 
 
 their parents while they 
 
 are flying. This is one 
 
 of the prettiest sights 
 
 to be seen in Bird 
 
 World. The parent 
 
 gives a note which 
 
 means " Come on, I 
 
 have something for 
 
 you." The young bird 
 
 flies toward the old 
 
 one, and as they meet 
 
 both fly upward, their I'lls touch, and the food passes 
 
 from one to the other. 
 
 Wonderful wings swallows have, and wonderfully 
 skilful and graceful is their flight. Backwar nd for- 
 ward they pass, now with a sudden turn to th. side, or 
 a little upward one over a hedge, turning corners, slip- 
 ping between men and horses, all without an effort. 
 
 Flo. 1-5. — Swallow. 
 
 'II I IP iil I liliti III liimillilll .>'3^M£ii.V'«'^^' -«. 
 
iSl 
 
 88 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 When the autumn comes, the tireless wings are 
 croin- to carry them to Mexico or Yucata., where 
 Cw U find'old friends, Kingbirds and Bobo mk^ 
 and where new insects will taste as good to them as 
 New England flies and gnats. , ^ „. 
 
 Watch' a swallow hunting! Every tm.e he tu_n 
 quickly in his course, to this side or to that, another 
 insect has passed into that wide-open mouth. Count 
 them for a minute. The number quickly runs in o the 
 tens and twenties. Now remember that a swallow is 
 on his feet, we should say, -on his wings the swallows 
 would call it,-from four o'clock in the coming o 
 six at night, and longer in the June days. Multiply 
 the minutes; fourteen times sixty is over eignt hun- 
 dred is it not ? Now, supposin ; he caught ten insects 
 aminute,-and this is probably too few, -you can 
 see that a dozen swallows would make away with a 
 larcre army of insects, nearly all of which would plague 
 the" cattle, or feed upon the farmer's fruit or vege- 
 tables The farmer has no better cr more hard- 
 working servant than the swallow. He has a good 
 righi, has he not, to the shelter, for a month or so, of 
 the farmer's barn ? 
 
TEE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD. 
 
 ■Mr/ 
 
 Fust comes the blackbird clatterin' on tall trees, 
 And settlin' things in windy congresses. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 'T'HERE is a little beetle that lives on water-lily 
 * leaves ; and if any insect were safe from attack, 
 you would think it might be this one. Several times, 
 however, I have seen ^ 
 
 Red-wi nged Black- 
 birds light on the 
 leaves, as they floated 
 on the water, and pick 
 off the beetles. Thi . 
 shows us how the 
 birds pry into every- 
 thing, and attack our 
 insect enemies in every 
 part of nature. 
 
 The Red-wing is 
 never far from the water, and often builds his nest in 
 the bushes or sedges that grow over slow streams 
 or ponds. In March and April he sits for hours on 
 the top of some bush, spreading his wings to show 
 his scarlet epaulets, and singing his loud cheerful 
 
 Fl<;. 14. — Red-winged Blackbird. 
 
 -mw^MtT-jm^-. 
 
BIRD WORLD. 
 90 
 
 *Uof notes and whistles ; 
 .. Okalee." He has many "'^er noKs a ^.^^^ 
 
 in fact the blackb.rd .s a "°-y/f^^'^^„ „,ue th. 
 particularly at ^f '^1:"' "« e dow" to sleep. H 
 marshes nng ^.^'"^ .^^J^ ighborhood, the black- 
 tiid^^arl'tuS an^a w-h&m. much disturbed 
 
 drives the blackbirds mto -"f" ^'^ He "o^'h 
 first warm March ^-^J^^^\rZ^, flocks, and 
 again. The males come fi-' '" S^ ^ Uon 
 
 wait for their partners. t ^s alway 4^._,^ ^^ 
 whether the first spnng bird will 
 
 '\ '^•^'-^'rs'bo^klo^tm read about Bird Fami- 
 
 Later in this dook yuu ^plated to each 
 
 lies, different ^inds of b.rds who are rel ted ^^_^^ 
 
 other, just as yo" have distant cousmshav. g ^^^^ 
 
 names. When you come to know x^ha ^ 
 
 "P the '-"^i^.tfoJe efyttere^ting acquain^ 
 ^-rhrBoboHnlTe Ori'ole, the la.y Cowbird, 
 Tnd the Meadow L-'^ are among Jh^^^^^ ^^^ 
 
 What different hab.ts these ereatu 
 nests in the long grass, one in tall elms, one 
 
 swamps, and one makes no nest at all. 
 
 w^'^^ffwmss^^s^m'^^;m^st^jmSi-MUsi':^x^:i^ 
 
ABOUT BIRDS' TOES. 
 
 THE animals in Wonderland, you remember, were 
 always very much surprised that Alice was not 
 constructed just as they were themselves; in fact they 
 seemed rather to look down upon her because she 
 was different. 
 
 If Alice had met a large number of our North 
 American birds, I think they would have been very 
 scornful about the uselessness of her toes. We may 
 think of them as saying, " What can you do with 
 them?" 
 
 " Can yovi catch fish or mice ? " " No ! " Then 
 the hawks and owls w^ould have turned their backs. 
 
 " Of course you can climb with them ? " " No." 
 
 Then the woodpeckers would have nothing 
 more to say. 
 
 A fat duck would waddle up and comfort 
 her by saying that she 
 thought climbing perfectly 
 absurd and dangerous as 
 well. " But of course your 
 toes are webbed to help you 
 •swim," she might add. If you were Alice, you would 
 have to confess that you could not swim very well 
 
 Fig. 15. — Duck's Foot. 
 
 wX^i^rWi-j}. 
 

 \ 1 
 
 1 
 
 BIRD nOK/D. 
 „„yway, and that you used your hands more than 
 '"Neither do you .cratch for seeds or worms, like 
 
 for she uses her toes mainly to walk on, as you 
 '^N^e of the birds, however, have as many toes as 
 
 • u 17 t F,o , ,._ Foot of Sonp Sparrow. 
 
 p,j;_ ,(,. _ Dstrich Foot. « "'■ /• 
 
 u . Four is the larcrest and commonest num- 
 C,ru:i,y'r..;d so th^t three toes pom. forwar 
 and one back. This arrangemen .s^ be^ -ted 
 
 thumb, which would help very little .f .t could not be 
 
 brought up under >'<»". ""fff; .^^^ j^^s are wide 
 
 \ r thaT llr: Sectc'an tl'ltched and held 
 apart, so that a lar^^c u j 
 
 U. The I^'^'^';-^ J,^'^„Vs e se "d all tJe 
 slippery prey, can turn one loc 
 
 *ft..>*K<-:i^.., fgrti Jk'^ife**: 
 
 im. 
 
ABOUT BIRDS' TOES. 
 
 93 
 
 owls can do the same, so that they have a very firm 
 grasp. 
 
 In the woodpeckers and parrots tht ^ are always 
 two hind toes, but some other tree-climbers, like the 
 little Brown Creeper, get up a tree just as cleverly 
 with the usual arrangement of toes. 
 
 The little sooty brown birds, who live in your 
 chimneys and are called Swifts, from their great speed, 
 
 Fig. i8. — Grouse Foot. 
 
 Fig. 19. — Foot of Flicker. 
 
 have short, weak toes which they use very little. In 
 England there is a swift whose four toes all point 
 forward, but the bird spends nearly all day on the 
 wing, so that he does not need his feet for perching. 
 Notice the short hind toes of the duck and the grouse 
 (Figs. 15, 18), birds which flatten out the foot in 
 walking. 
 
 The hen's hind toe, as you must know, does not 
 touch the ground, and in some birds this toe has 
 been used so little that it has practically disappeared. 
 
 y^,sv ^v^=.; 
 
 'tjmm^m^m:. 
 
i I 
 
 B//in WOJil.D. 
 94 
 
 Many birds, therefore, have only three, and generally 
 these are ciU front toes . ^^ 
 
 Beside the Swift, who spends so much time 
 
 . . \morican birds who cannot perch 
 
 lir there are two American ui^-i , 
 
 air, tntrt Whip-poor-wiU and tht 
 
 in the usual way; they art ^^"/H^l ^sp a 
 
 Night Hawk. Their toes are ^ooj^t to g P 
 
 lin.l3 stout enough to ^^\'^^Jl^lJU 
 on the ground or along, not across, a large 
 
 
 
 Fu;. 20. — Chimney Swift. 
 
.JIU'UJIWW 
 
 BOB WHITE. 
 
 HALF a mile away you can hear Bob White whis- 
 tling his name, " Bob White ! " " Bob White ! " 
 The sound is so distinct that dogs, when they hear it 
 first, show that they take it for the call of a human 
 being. Following the sound and keeping a sharp 
 lookout, you may find him on the fence rail, and if 
 you creep cautiously near, you will see what a hand- 
 some bird he is. 
 
 His throat is pure white, his head marked with 
 black and white, and his short, fat body a rich brown. 
 Why is he whistling so clearly ? 
 
 If you answer him, — for you can learn to whistle 
 the notes almost as clearly as he does, — you may see 
 a very fierce little Quail com*- flying to the spot where 
 you are hidden, for the whisviing of the Quail, like the 
 drumming of the Grouse, is a call to his mate and a 
 challenge to all his rivals. 
 
 Under the blackberry vines, along the wall, or in a 
 tuft of grass in the open fields, his mate is covering, 
 or trying to cover, a set of eggs which it would be a 
 joy for you to see — row within row of pure white 
 beautiful eggs, sometimes as many as twenty in a 
 nest. 
 
 m^ v-#^r- 'i:;:5S5j»-jf j^ML^^ifc^tj^^ 
 
96 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 i 
 
 When the little ones hatch, they come ^^»^ ^^'^^^^ 
 
 J£^:i down, and run t^^^"^^^^ 
 ,oung Grouse or arnyard ch en . rh ■ ^P^^^^_^^ 
 
 r^^fo'^dtr'th:^:::' at th^e approach of hawUs 
 
 or prowling cats. ^ ^^,^5 
 
 Like the Grouse, ^^ Qj^JXe G ^^.e, the flock 
 
 where he -s born b t, -^^^^^ ,„.,,her all 
 
 :ireSirad*-ting 1 trees they have a 
 
 .erysociablehahitofspend.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 s.x::rtx-^:]--c^,-^ 
 
 rdt-:d'tr:f:slai;:sUd the people o. 
 
 Pompeii. ^ Q j|g scratch 
 
 When the winter is not too severe, tnt vj 
 the snow away, hunting for seeds -d grain H th. 
 have not been hunted or pursued too much, t_l.e> 
 sometimes become very tame, ..d come shyly into 
 the barnyard or about the house for food^ 
 
 In the summer, berries and corn and wheat 
 
BOH WIIITK. 
 
 97 
 
 have dropped from the ears are crushed by their 
 short, stout bills, and they fill out their daily bill of 
 fare with grubs and insects. 
 
 The wings of a Quail, though strong, are short in 
 comparison with the weight of his body. They are 
 also somewhat concave, like the inner side of a watch 
 crystal, so that when the bird flies the rapid strokes 
 and the shape of the wing make a loud whirring 
 
 sound. 
 
 Quails are not as common as they once were. Too 
 many of them, instead of wandering about the pas- 
 tures, hang in the markets, their pretty feathers soiled 
 and a little stain of blood telling the story of their 
 death-; but if the extermination were to become com- 
 plete, the only ones to be benefited would be such real 
 enemies to our crops as the potato beetle and the cut- 
 worm. In Wisconsin they were brought back by a 
 state law, as song birds were said to be in Killing- 
 worth. 
 
 
I ■ 
 
 if 
 
 
 AUDUBON AND THE PHCEBES. 
 
 A PAIR of Phoebes once built in a cave near 
 Audubon's house. He visited them so often, 
 and was so careful not to frighten them, that they 
 finally paid no more heed to his presence than if he 
 had been a post. He was therefore able to learn 
 much about their manner of life; he found out ; ow 
 often eggs were laid, and how long the female .sat 
 upon th'em. As the young grew up he handled them 
 frequently, so that they, too, grew accustomed to hmi. 
 As they grew older he tied bits of thread to their 
 legs, but these they always pulled off. When, how- 
 ever, they became so used to the threads that they 
 allowed them to remain on their legs, Audubon 
 wound a silver thread on the leg of each, "loose 
 enough not to hurt" them, "but so fastened that no 
 exertion of the birds could remove it." Soon the 
 birds left the nest and in the autumn went south. 
 
 The next spring Audubon hunted up all the 
 Phoebe's nests in the neighborhood and caught the 
 females as thev sat upon the nest. Do you not 
 imagine that he was pleased to f^nd that on the legs 
 of two birds was a light, silver thread ? 
 
 <mi 
 
HOW YOUNG BIRDS GET FED. 
 
 ONE afternoon in July I watched six little Barn 
 Swallows sitting on the roof of a barn. They 
 had evidently left their nest only a few days before, 
 but their wings were already strong enough to carry 
 them back to the roof if they fluttered off- 
 Soon the father approached, and was greeted by 
 six gaping mouths. The little bird sitting nearest 
 him iiot the mouthful, and an instant later got another 
 from the mother. Six times in succession he was fed, 
 neither parent regarding the five other yellow throats. 
 This seemed unfair, and foolish as well. I thought 
 little birds must be starved one dav and fed toe full 
 the next. I waited a few moments and the mystery- 
 was solved. The little fellow who had been getting 
 so much soon had all he wanted. The next time the 
 parents came his mouth was shut, and one of the other 
 five got the mouthful. 
 
 When a cat or a dog has had enough, he stops eat- 
 ing. It must be so with little birds ; when one has 
 had enough, he shuts his mouth and eyes and dozes 
 while his brothers and sisters get their meal I fear, 
 though, that when there are six mouths to fill, the 
 last is hardly closed before the first opens again. 
 
1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 TT? 
 
 -^--jTr , 
 
 .■'-^ ■ ■ 
 
 * r i 
 
 W-- 
 
 V.:-- ' 
 
 4;/-, 
 
 .-r ■ ■ : 
 
 
 m.i 
 
 .V 
 
 :vii 
 
 
 ' WH 
 
 
 'v^.'--^ - . 
 
 I i 
 1 i 
 
 i s 
 
 FOOD OF BIRDS. 
 
 BY carpentering, by painting, by siMing goods,— 
 by so many different kinds of work that it would 
 be hard to make a list of them all, — your fathers 
 provide your daily food. 
 
 Long ago, in the old forests of England or Ger- 
 many, our ancestors got their own food by hunting, 
 fishing, keeping cattle, and by a little farming. To- 
 day this work is done for us, but the birds have still 
 to do their foraging for themselves. 
 
 Birds eat the things which you eat, and besides 
 have the whole insect world to hunt in. You can 
 often tell by a bird's appearance what he eats, and 
 when you have found that out, you can ge" -rally tell 
 where he will choose to live, and what many of his 
 habits of life are. When you see the wide mouth of 
 a swallow, and his long, slende r wings, you will decide 
 that if any bird could catch the hosts of flies, gnats, 
 and beetles that fill the air in summer, certainly the 
 swallow should be well fitted for such hunting. When 
 you remember that hard frosts kill these flying insects, 
 you will feel sure that you will find no swallows here 
 in winter. The long, sharp bill of a heron, and his 
 long, naked feet seem well fitted for spearing frogs 
 
Copyright, /*V7. hy ihf Hsprey t<>, 
 
 BLACK-THROATED GREEN WaRBLERS. 
 
fc<.v{^ 
 
FOOD OF BIRDS. 
 
 lOl 
 
 and fish in shallow water. Herons must therefore live 
 near water, and in winter go where the swamps are 
 not frozen. 
 
 Such birds as Crows eat many kinds of food ; what- 
 ever they can get, in fact. In spring the farmer's 
 corn tastes sweet to them, but the grubs and beetles 
 are good food, too, and they find that no one will 
 shoot them for taking the grubs, while eating corn 
 means taking son ■ risk. In fall and winter, nuts are 
 also added to the Crow's bill of fare. Near the sea- 
 shore, dead fish and other sea animals which are 
 found on the shore vary the food in winter. I am 
 ashamed to say that eggs, and even young birds, are 
 sometimes devoured by the Crow. When a bird is 
 so easily pleased, and has such a wide choice, he can 
 stay all the year round. 
 
 Seed-eating birds, like the sparrows, can find seeds 
 on the weeds and grasses even in winter, and the little 
 bark inspectors find eggs, cocoons, and sleepy beetles 
 in the cracks of the bark, so that winter does not 
 frighten them away. Many of the sea birds, especially 
 the divers, can find fish or shellfish in the winter sea, 
 where it does not freeze over. 
 
 Did you ever think why the Pine Warbler loved the 
 pines, and the Summer Yellowbird preferred the 
 willows } Not because either of them eats the seeds 
 or leaves of these trees, but because in them each 
 
' i < 
 
 J02 ///^'^^ ll'OA'/./l 
 
 finds the insects he has learned to catch. Sometimes 
 a bird's food depends so largely on a certain tree that 
 he will have to leave a town, if these trees are all cut 
 
 down. . , . 1 r r J 
 
 Sometimes birds have found a certam kmd of food 
 or a way of getting food so different from that of any 
 other bird that their bills or feet have gradually 
 changed, and they have become more and more 
 dependent on this way of getting their livmg. The 
 woodpecker's tongue is a long, hooked brush, with 
 which he rakes out grubs from deep holes, the Hum- 
 ming Bird's tongue is a tube through which he sucks 
 honey, and the Flamingo's bill is a sieve through 
 which he strains muddy water as a whale strams the 
 sea water through his whalebone meshes. 
 
 You could find mar stories about the strungo food 
 or feeding habits of bii as. First, however, look about 
 you, if you can, and find out what the birds that are 
 your own neighbors eat, and how they get it. Take 
 the common birds, the Robin, the Chipping Sparrow, 
 the Kingbird, and the Gull, and watch them till you 
 see them getting and eating their dinner. Then you 
 will be all the 'more interested in the interesting 
 stories you will find in the books. You will learn, 
 too, what patience and sharp sight people come 
 to have who watch birds and find out all their 
 secrets. 
 
 K^.^;vif'- 
 
WHEN A BIRD CHANGES HIS CLOTHES. 
 
 DO you know how important the masts of a sailing 
 ship are ? If they are broken, the ship is help- 
 less. It drifts about wherever the wind blows it. 
 
 A bird's wing and tail feathers are as important for 
 its safety as the mast and sails of a ship. The strong, 
 powerful quill Teathers enable it to fly rapidly through 
 the air to get its food and to avoid its enemies. It 
 is important that the feathers of both wings should 
 be uninjured, for the bird would be unable to guide 
 its flight if one wing were much less strong than the 
 other. 
 
 Feathers get worn by use, some even get broken, 
 and if the bird could not replace them it would have 
 hard work, after a year or two, to make the old 
 weatherworn ones do their work. 
 
 Nature, however, provi(' s the birds with a new 
 suit of clothes every year. After the /oung are 
 hatched, when the old birds no longer need their 
 swiftness and strength to get the daily food for their 
 children, the feathers of almost all birds begin to 
 drop out ; not at once, for that would leave the 
 bird naked and helpless, but gradually and, in the 
 case of the wing feathers, fairly evenly. As fast as 
 
I04 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 the feathers drop out others grow out to take their 
 places, and in a month or so the bird has a new suit 
 I,f fine strong feathers, all ready to carry him to his 
 distant winter home. 
 
 With many of the birds of the Duck and Goose 
 family, the moulting goes on so quickly that the bird 
 h.s scarcely enough feathers to enable him to fly. 
 He hides during these unhappy weeks in dis ant 
 swamps, hoping that no enemy will attack him t.U he 
 is ready to fly again. He must feel like a cripple 
 and try his wings Impatiently, longing for the day 
 when he can be off again through the air 
 
 In the case of many gay-colored male birds, this 
 summer moult leaves them very shabby-looking 1 he 
 Bobolink loses all his gay black and uliite, and comes 
 out in August in brown and yellonish, bke his wife 
 and children. He probably does not feel so proud of 
 his -ood looks as before, but I think he is safer. The 
 black and white was so bright that his enemies could 
 easily see him, but now he can slip away among the 
 brown grasses and hardly be noticed. 
 
 Many male birds are not content with one suit of 
 feathers a year. They have to have another new suit, 
 or part of one, in the spring, and of the gayest colors 
 and feathers. Red and blue and yellow appear on 
 the shoulders, in the tail, on the head, neck, and 
 breast, in patches, bars, bands, streaks. In fact m every 
 
 
WHEN A BIRD CHANGES HIS CLOTHES. I05 
 
 way that can make the bird attractive. The little 
 fellows know very well what a fine appearance they 
 now make. If there is any bit of color that does not 
 show well, they take pains to bow or bend, or to spread 
 wing or tail to display it. All these bright feathers 
 are moulted again and the winter suit put on. So 
 the suits change with the seasons, till the little life 
 is ended. 
 
 The Humming Birds are a perpetual pleasure. I 
 shall never forget the surprise of joy the first time 
 one alighted on my sleeve and rested, as much at 
 home as if I were a stick or harmless twig. 
 
 Sparrows and Nuthatches had often alighted on 
 my head as I stood musing over my flowers, but to 
 have this tiny spark of brilliant life come to anchor, 
 as it were, on anything so earthly as my arm was 
 indeed a nine days' wonder. Now it has grown to be 
 an old story, but it is never any less delightful. — 
 Celia Thaxter, An Island Garden. 
 
11 
 
 A BIRD IN THE HAND. 
 
 EVERY boy or girl who knows the winter woods 
 has seen, hanging from the forked twigs of bushes 
 or low trees, shallow, cup-shaped nests like that in the 
 
 picture. 
 
 These woodland nests are generally built by the 
 Red-eyed Vireo, a bird whose enticing song and 
 gentle manners soon win affection, if one learns to 
 know him. The nest in the picture, however, is that 
 of his cousin, the Yellow-throated Vireo, whose dis- 
 position is even more confiding than the Red-eye's. 
 
 I have always liked Yellow-throated Vireos, because 
 of the careless, confident way in which the male sings 
 on the nest; and when a pair of these vireos appeared 
 last May in an apple tree just outside my dining-room 
 window, I was prepared to give them a very cordial 
 welcome. I had no idea, however, when the female 
 finally selected a twig and fell to weaving, how impor- 
 tant a member of our household she would become, 
 and what charming associations she was destined to 
 weave about the tree. 
 
 It was the seventeenth of May when she began the 
 nest. By night it seemed to me finished, but to her 
 trained c-yc it was still insecure. All the next morn- 
 
A BIRD JN THE HAND. 
 
 lo: 
 
 ing she kept at work, and at noon I could easily see 
 that the alls were much thicker and more smoothly 
 covei <1. 
 
 Or ti e tweiit} -second of May there was one egg in 
 the nco'; , tb- next morning, a second. On the twenty- 
 sixth I placed a short ladder against the tree, so that 
 when I climbed it my head was level with the nest 
 and within two feet of it. 
 
 I climbed the ladder twice, to accustom the bird to 
 her strange visitor, and the third time I offered her 
 a cankerworm. She took it, but flew off with it. 
 
 The next morning I made the fourth ascent of the 
 ladder and offered the vireo a large black ant, which 
 I caught on the tree itself. She swallowed it without 
 leaving the nest, and a dozen more disappeared as 
 quickly as I could give them to her. These black 
 ants were evidently considered very choice food, and 
 as there were large colonies of them in the hollows of 
 the tree, there was always a busy line following up 
 or down the limb against which the ladder rested. 
 The simplest way, therefore, to feed my friend was to 
 stand on the ladder, waylay each passing ant and offer 
 it to her. 
 
 The next morning, on my fifth ascent, she again 
 ate freely from my hand and from my lips. She even 
 left her eggs and perched on the edge of the nest, 
 reaching forward if I held the ant too far from her ; 
 
io8 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 and when I had desolated the highway of ants and 
 was descending the ladder, she flew from the limb 
 below the nest to the top rung of the ladder, and atte": 
 I fed her there, to the next rung, following me some 
 distance. The male, whom I soon learned to distm- 
 guish by the richer yellow of his throat, w^as naturally 
 Sroused and indignant at this intrusion. While his 
 mate was eating peacefully from my hand, he flew 
 backward and forward close to my head, uttermg a 
 harsh, scolding note, which I never heard from the 
 
 female. 
 
 In about a week after he first witnessed the perform- 
 ance, the male became, to a certain extent, reconciled 
 to his wife's strange conduct. He did not dart at my 
 head so often, and ' e developed a habit which gave 
 me a much higher opinion of his character, — flying 
 to the nest when the female followed me and keeping 
 the eggs warm during her absence. 
 
 Onte, indeed, while I was feeding her on the nest, 
 some time after he had grown used to me, I heard 
 him scolding more violently than ever. I wondered 
 at his renewed vigilance, till I saw that he was watch- 
 ing, not me, but a male vireo. His anger at my intru- 
 sion had been somewhat modified by astonishment, 
 but the presence of another bird was an occurrence 
 he understood and felt competent to deal with. 
 
 The male never fed from my hand, although he 
 
 ji?V*'"' 
 
A BIRD I\ THE HAND 
 
 109 
 
 often remained in the nest until I came very near. I 
 knew him at once by his retracted head and angry 
 eyes. ''ie female's head was always extended to see 
 what I was bringing her, 
 and her eyes were intelli- 
 gent and gentle. 
 
 He was a true barbarian, 
 I fear, but I learned to re- 
 spect him thoroughly. He 
 defended his home and 
 family as well as he could, 
 and he was extremely ac- 
 tive, a little later, in feeding 
 the young. I told my 
 friends, of course, of the 
 rar*? friendship which I had 
 formed, and several came 
 to see the vireo eat from 
 my hand. Not only did 
 their presence under the 
 
 tree seem to make no difference in her appetite, but 
 when one of them climbed the ladder I had to admit 
 that she took food from his hand as readily as she 
 had from mine. At no time did she discriminate 
 between her admirers. Any one who brought black 
 ants was welcome. 
 
 On the twenty-eighth of May I put her courage to 
 
 Fig. 21. — Vellow-throated Vireo. 
 
 f-^iC-fv-" 
 
no 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 a severe test. She was standing on the edge of the 
 nest, the better to reach for the food which I r ^'-red 
 her, and her composure was so great and my w \ so 
 near, that I ventured to close it over her and lo carry 
 her toward me. 
 
 She did not seem alarmed at this strange experi- 
 ence ; her heart was not beating at a rapid rate, but I 
 
 Fig. 22. — Vireo and Nest. 
 
 think the position was too unusual to be comfortable. 
 She seemed pleased to be put down, although she 
 remained where I placed her and continued her 
 
 meal. 
 
 If I put an ant on the palm of my hand, she pre- 
 ferred to hover or to fly over and take the ant on the 
 wing; yet on the third of June I induced her to perch 
 on my finger. 
 
./ JilRP IX THE HAXD. 
 
 I I I 
 
 I managed this by putting a box containing ants 
 in the pahii of my hand, but letting it show between 
 my fingers. She wanted the ants and saw only one 
 way to get at them. She alighted, therefore, on my 
 finger and thrust her bill down into the box. She 
 also learned to eat from the box placed upon my 
 head. 
 
 In order to photograph the bird in these character- 
 istic positions, we had to do an amount of climbing 
 and cutting in the tree, which was in itself a severe 
 test of her composure. The camera, too, on its 
 tripod, was tied in place only a foot or two away, and 
 remained there night and day, covered by a black 
 cloth ; but neither this strange object nor the removal 
 of twigs and branches all around the nest seemed to 
 disturb the vireo in the least. 
 
 By the eighteenth of June the young were hatched, 
 and as soon as they no longer needed the protection 
 of her body, the mother treated herself to long and 
 well-earned absences. Once she was away so long 
 that I became greatly worried about her, but she 
 returned at" length, and ate once more, the last time, 
 from my hand. 
 
 She unconsciously gave me cause, during this last 
 interview, to think of her a little more constantly than 
 I liked. While I looked up at her as she fed, there 
 fell into my eye a fragment of the ant she was eating 
 
I 12 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 til! 
 
 — an experience that forbids me to recommend formic 
 acid as an eye lotion. 
 
 But I forgave her, of course, and, as I say, this was 
 the last I saw of her. y\t the end of two days I went 
 away for the summer. When I returned, in Septem- 
 ber, the well-worn nest was all that I could connect 
 with the family I had watched. Often when I look 
 at it I think of its brave architect and builder. I 
 remember how helpless her little body felt in my 
 hand, and I wonder what long journeys she is making 
 
 now-. 
 
 Most of all, I wonder whether she will escape all 
 the perils of the way and return to me next spring. 
 The chances are many that I shall not see my vireo 
 again, but if she returns next May the warmest wel- 
 come and the largest ants will be waiting for her. 
 
 Redstarts, like all little birds, are "feathered appe- 
 tites," and this means the destruction of innumerable 
 insects, health of shade trees, and the perfecting of 
 flowers. — C. C. Abbott. 
 
 The happy birds that change their sky 
 
 To build and brood ; that live their life 
 
 From land to land. 
 
 Tennyson's In Memoriam. 
 
BIRD PASSPORTS. 
 
 r^O you know what a passport is? 
 ^-^ In all parts of our country orderly persons may 
 move about freely without exciting suspicion. In 
 countries differently governed stricter rules prevail, 
 and circumstances are liable to arise in which it is 
 necessary to be quickly and easily identified, and to 
 have the protection of one's own country. 
 
 If none of you have done so, many of your parents 
 have had to pass, during a single summer, through 
 France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, if not through 
 cities of Austria, Turkey, Russia, and perhaps coun- 
 tries of Asia and Africa. The form of protection in 
 such cases is a written passport signed by one of the 
 highest officers of our government. On the following 
 page is a copy of such a passport. 
 
 If any wrong should come to one holding this paper, 
 he can appeal to his government to see that it is 
 righted, as far as is possible ; and if he himself does 
 violence or injury, his government is made responsible 
 for his wrongdoing. 
 
 You can see that such a paper must not be trans- 
 ferred from person to person. To make sure that 
 the holder of it is the rightfu' owner, he is carefully 
 described in the document, as you see. 
 
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 ^JII!fewlipji)l|i/jgf/P^5ate8te9iii'»»J^/®^ 
 
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BIRD J'ASSrORTS. 
 
 115 
 
 " But what," you ask, " has this to do with birds ? " 
 Only this: the birds are the greatest travelers in the 
 world. They must go, in the different seasons of the 
 year, where the food they need is most plentiful. If 
 they do not have to "sow or reap or gather into 
 barns," it is also true that they must glean and forage 
 day by day to meet their needs. They are happiest 
 in summer time in northern latitudes; but when frost 
 comes and the insects are safe in winter cocoons, they 
 must go where summer heat lasts the long year 
 through. Traveling is not so much a pastime as a 
 necessity. 
 
 Going high over our heads, they do not ask our 
 leave. Their frequent way stations are the tree tops, 
 the marsh grasses, and all sorts of open or hidden 
 ways. Some go singing, like the old-time Troubadours. 
 
 The migration of different kinds of birds is becom- 
 ing better known every year, and as they are interest- 
 ing \' itors we are all glad to know when they will 
 come our way, and how we may know them as they 
 pass. While they accept our hospitality without ask- 
 ing for it, with very few exceptions (hardly worthy 
 to be named), they are of the greatest service to us. 
 Longfellow's " Birds of Killingworth " tells what this 
 service is. 
 
 Now, I am sure you can see how it is that an exact 
 description of every known bird would be of oreat use 
 
Ii6 
 
 I^IKD WOK in. 
 
 for many different reasons. You and I would be olad 
 to have so good a statement of the birds we wish to 
 know that when we see a bird we may be helped in 
 finding out what bird it is. And students who wish 
 to know the family relations of different birds are glad 
 of strict bird jiassports for that purpose. Those who 
 have in times past shot birds, thinking they would get 
 better crops, need to learn what birds have deserved 
 their thanks instead. 
 
 If we think of this, we shall find more pleasure in 
 the bird books written for older students, which have 
 seemed to contain nothing but dull statements. We 
 shall p; them as wc do dictionaries. 
 
 There is another idea connected with this matter 
 of j)assports. As you grow older and study birds for 
 vourselves, vou will wish to compare what you learn 
 with what others know. To do this well and easily 
 you must be able to make out the passports, or 
 descriptions, which are used in bird study. 
 
 Many birds are so much alike that it often requires 
 quite a'full description to enable any one who knows 
 to tell which of several birds you have in mind. It is 
 the object of this lesson to start you in making descrip- 
 tions tor yourselves, as well as in using those of other 
 people. 
 
 ■jrTir i 
 
THE BIRD OF MANY NAMES. 
 
 s!At4'/'/i :^/ilw.^^.;// 
 
 f N our world we arc apt to express an opinion of 
 * persons who in different places pass under differ- 
 ent names. To appear in full wedding suit of three 
 striking colors in New England in May and June, 
 then to don a snuffy 
 brown traveling suit 
 under the names of 
 Reed and Rice in 
 different localities 
 of the south, and in 
 Cuba to assume a 
 foreign name, while 
 at least two other 
 names are held in 
 good faith by peo- 
 ple somewhere else, 
 would need explana- 
 tion. 
 
 But we know little of the use of names in Bird 
 World. A few birds tell us plainly what they like to 
 be called: Whip-poor-will, Bob White, Chickadee; for 
 the most part we have put our own, often very stupid, 
 names upon them. 
 
 
 Fic. 2^.— FJolxilink. 
 
ii8 
 
 lilRI) irohTD. 
 
 A Bobolink is a much-beloved bird in New Eng- 
 land. It would seem a crime against nature to shoot 
 him, and there would be no motive save to enrich a 
 museum or milliner's window. 
 
 But in South Carolina or Cleorgia a farmer might 
 be pardoned for finding a way to save his crops from 
 the Rice Birds, and if he, for his part, gets morsels for 
 his table, he would not be half paid for the young rice 
 grains that the great flocks of jjassing birds devour. 
 
 By the time those that have escaped the perils of 
 gunners reach Central America, they are said to be 
 dainty eating as Butter Birds for those whose con- 
 sciences let them secure them, and we cannot blame 
 the people nmch, since the birds keep their gay holi- 
 day, wear their bright plumage, sing their gay songs 
 with us, and make themselves much less attractive in 
 the land of their winter exile. 
 
 The female bird wears only the yellowish brown 
 with dashes of light and dark on wings, tail, and back. 
 
 "It 
 
 ■ 
 
 n 
 
 Modest and sliy as a nun is she, 
 Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, 
 Passing at home a patient life, 
 Broods in the grass while her husband sings, 
 " Bob-o-link, Bob-o-link, 
 ijpink, Spank, Spink." 
 
THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 BOBOLINK! that in the meadow* 
 Or beneath the orchard's shadow 
 Keepest up a constant rattle 
 Joyous as my children's prattle, 
 Welcome to the north again ! 
 Welcome to mine ear thy strain, 
 Welcome to m-'ne eye the sight 
 Of thy buff, tl \ <; ck, and white. 
 Brighter plumes Juay greet the sun 
 By the banks of Amazon ; 
 Sweeter tones may weave the spell 
 Of enchanting Philomel ; 
 But the tropic bird would fail, 
 And the English nightingale. 
 If we should compare their worth 
 With thine endless, gushing mirth. 
 
 A single note, so sweet and low. 
 Like a full heart's overflow. 
 Forms the prelude ; but the strain 
 Gives us no such tone again, 
 For the wild and saucy song 
 Leaps and skips the notes amt)ng. 
 
I20 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 •- 
 
 
 With such quick and \sportive play, 
 Ne'er was madder, merrier lay. 
 
 Nor care nor fear thy bosom knows ; 
 Kor thee a tempest never blows; 
 But when Qur northern summer 's o'er 
 By Delaware's or Schuylkill's shore 
 The wild rice lifts its airy head, 
 And royal feasts for thee are spread. 
 And when the winter threatens there. 
 Thy tireless wings yet own no fear, 
 But bear thee to more southern coasts, 
 Far beyond the reach of frosts. 
 
 Bobolink! still may thy gladness 
 Take from me all taints of sadness; 
 Fill my soul with trust unshaken 
 In that Being who has taken 
 Care for every living thing 
 In summer, winter, fall, and spring. 
 
 Thomas Hill. 
 
 f I 
 
 If I were a bird, in building my nest, I should fol- 
 low the example of the Bobolink, placing it in the 
 midst of a broad meadow, where there was no spear 
 of grass, or flower, or growth unlike another to mark 
 its site.— Bi'UKoudHs. 
 
GYPSY BIRDS. 
 
 'T'HERE are many land birds whose whole lives are 
 ^ passed almost in the same spot, and others that 
 make great journeys twice a year ; both kinds, how- 
 ever, the stay-at-homes as well as the travelers, are 
 regular in their habits. 
 
 You can tell where to find them or when to expect 
 them, sometimes almost to a day. Orioles, for instance, 
 reach Massachusetts, almost every year, in the first 
 week of May and leave in the last week of August. 
 
 Regular habits like these do not suit gypsies nor 
 the Gypsy Birds; they wander from place to place 
 wherever they find the food they like. Sometimes 
 they appear in the fall in great numbers, and stay 
 through the winter and late into the spring. The 
 next year and the next they are absent; perhaps ten 
 years elapse before they revisit the place. 
 
 The best known of the gypsy birds are the Cross- 
 bills, whose strange pair of scissors you find among 
 the bird bills illustrated on page 197. The handsom- 
 est gypsies in Bird World are the Pine Grosbeaks ; 
 the most lovable ones are the Linnets. All these live 
 in the far north, where snow lies on the ground for 
 the greater part of the year, in the great pine and 
 
122 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 I 5 
 > 
 
 spruce forests, or still further north where the white 
 birches grow, and the owls and foxes are white as the 
 white snow. 
 
 No one knows when to expect these gypsies. Any 
 winter they may appear; the rosy-colored Linnets, 
 in flocks of hundreds, light on the birches and scatter 
 the seed-wings over the snow. The Crossbills go 
 to the spruce cones for their seeds, and the Gros- 
 beaks eat, I am sorry to say, not only the seeds but 
 the buds as well. However, they come so rarely that 
 they do little harm, and they are so beautiful and so 
 tame that every one welcomes them. 
 
 Probably if you were to put on your snowshoes and 
 travel far northward when you heard that these birds 
 had come, till you should come to the great forests 
 where they were born, you would discover why they 
 had come south. 
 
 Not that they fear the cold, for they often live 
 happily where the thermometer goes down to 30° 
 below zero. No, you would look at the trees, and if 
 you saw that the birches, for some reason, had had p 
 poor crop of seeds, as sometimes the apple tree's crop 
 fails, or that there were few cones on the spruces, you 
 would make up your mind that the gypsy birds had 
 wandered south for food. 
 
FOSTER-MOTHERS. 
 
 r^O you know what a foster-mother is? 
 *-^ If you have read Hans Andersen's famous story, 
 The Ugly Duckling you will remember that the 
 duck mother found a strange egg in her nest, and 
 when it hatched, the bird that came out was larger by 
 half than her own ducklings. So ugly and awkward 
 it was that all the creature'' in the farmyard pecked 
 at it. The good mother, though she was ashamed of 
 it, tried to protect it, and treated it kindly. 
 
 Birds which hatch eggs which they did not them- 
 selves lay are called foster-mothers, and there are 
 more of them in Bird World than most people 
 suppose. 
 
 If you are walking in the fields, you may come 
 across a strange sight, — a young bird, considerably 
 larger than a sparrow, squatting on the ground with 
 beak wide open and wings hanging down. In a 
 moment he will squall loudly, and then run a few 
 steps in the direction of a smaller bird which is busily 
 hunting for insects or grubs. When the smaller bird 
 finds something, she hurries to the lazy youngster 
 and gives it to him ; but he has hardly swallowed 
 it before his mouth is open for more. He gives his 
 
124 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 little foster-mother no peace, and you wonder she is 
 not utterly worn out. If you caught the two birds 
 and looked at their passports, you could find very 
 little close family resemblance, and would feel sure 
 that the young bird was no true child of the other. 
 
 But where are the bird's own brood? Did she 
 have none, and has she adopted an orphan ? 
 
 This is the sad part of the story, for even in Bird 
 World there are some very rascally characters, it 
 would seem, and the truth about them must be told. 
 The little Vireo or Redstart had built her nest and 
 laid her eggs in it; but one morning, while she had 
 left it for a moment to get food, a larger bird had 
 come sneaking through the bushes and had dropped 
 her own big egg into the nest, among the pretty little 
 ones that really belonged there. 
 
 When the Vireo or Redstart came back, she expected 
 to settle herself comfortably on the nest, with her bill 
 and tail and little black eye just showing over the 
 edge, to brood and brood all the long day. What 's 
 to be done? She calls in great excitement to her 
 mate, and the pair have a long consultation, but they 
 are not strong to throw the egg out, and if they desert 
 the nest their own precious eggs will never hatch, so 
 they decide to make the best of it, not knowing that 
 what they call best is really the very worst. For, as 
 soon as the mother settles down, the big egg gets all 
 
FOSTER-MOTHERS. 
 
 ^25 
 
 the warmth of her body, and hatches a day or two 
 before the others, or if they hatch at the same time, 
 the big stranger needs so much more food that the 
 real children are in danger of being but half fed. 
 
 It is a sad story, is it not? The lazy Cowbird 
 mother shirks all the work which we praise birds for 
 doing. She makes no nest, she takes no pains to feed 
 and protect her young. All her life she simply eats 
 and sleeps and looks about her for some smaller bird 
 whom she can deceive. 
 
 The pleasant part of the story is the kindness of 
 the poor Redstart mother to her foster-child. She has 
 probably lost her own brood, but instead of pecking 
 the stranger to death, she feeds him, working day 
 after day over him till he is big enough to fly away, 
 which he does without a word of thanks. 
 
 Do you wonder how the Cowbird came by so odd 
 a name ? Like most bird names, some habit of the 
 bird suggested it. These birds are often seen in 
 small flocks following cattle in pastures. It does not 
 require great shrewdness to guess that it is not the 
 cows, but the insects to be found upon them in warm 
 weather, that attract the birds. If they do service to 
 the cattle, we are glad to give them credit, but it is said, 
 on good authority, that every Cowbird means the loss 
 of a whole brood of Redstarts, Yellow Warblers, Vireos, 
 or other birds of which we cannot have too many. 
 
 "■*^ 
 
 ■ ■ *'}'»?^ 
 
 ..■■•S'i^'-- 
 
TWO FATHER BIRDS. 
 
 ' il 
 
 YOU have discovered before now that birds, like 
 people, have very different habits and characters. 
 Even in the birds about you, the difference between 
 a lazy Cowbird mother and such a careful, loving 
 parent as the Grouse is very noticeable. 
 
 The birds I am going now to tell you about are 
 natives of countries far from America. One is well 
 known to you ; some of you have perhaps seen an 
 Ostrich at a circus. The other is not nearly so 
 famous, but he is almost as interesting. He belongs 
 to the sandpiper family, and is called the Ruff. 
 
 The Rutf's name comes probably from a wonderful 
 collar of feathers which grow each spring beneath and 
 around his throat. They are so thick that they form 
 a shield, and the bird uses them, as such. The Ruffs 
 choose places to which they return each night simply 
 to fence with their bills. These bills are long but not 
 very sharp, so that they never injure each other, but 
 they fight as fiercely as if they meant to kill one 
 another. Many male birds of other kinds fight in the 
 breeding season, but with the Ruffs it seems to be 
 merely for the sake of fighting, for they keep it up 
 even after the female is sitting on her eggs. Instead 
 of keeping near her, as many males do, to protect her 
 
nVO FATHER BIRDS. 
 
 127 
 
 and the nest from enemies, the Ruff spends his time 
 with the other males, fighting continual duels, until 
 the summer comes. Then his collar gradually drops 
 off, and the males that have been fighting all the 
 spring go off together in 
 peaceful flocks. 
 
 The male Ostrich has 
 a very different charac- 
 ter from the quarrelsome 
 and neglectful Ruff. The 
 Ostrich, like our barn- 
 yard rooster, has several 
 hens. All lay eggs in the 
 same nest, which is noth- 
 ing but a pit scraped out 
 in the sand. In this 
 sometimes thirty eggs are laid. Every night the male 
 Ostrich broods on this great pile. If the young are 
 threatened, the male defends them, or tries to lead the 
 enemy astray by pretending that he is wounded or 
 lame, just as the mother Grouse does here. 
 
 Of the two fathers, the Ruff is by far the hand- 
 somer. The bare red neck of the Ostrich is ugly 
 enough, but uglier when compared with the Ruff's 
 fine collar. Ask their wives, however, about it, and 
 perhaps they will say, " Handsome is that handsome 
 does." 
 
 Fig. 24.— The Ruff. 
 
BORN IN A BOAT. 
 
 sn 
 
 THERE is no bird more skilful in diving than the 
 Grebe. He has a trick of sinking out of sight 
 which is so wonderful that you hardly believe that the 
 bird has been in sight at all. Or if he is in a hurry 
 he turns head over heels like a duck, and then the 
 game is to guess where he will come up. It may be 
 to the right, to the left, far or near, and sometimes 
 you will think he has never come up at all. If a 
 Grebe is fired ar, he will start at the flash of the 
 powder and be safe under water before the shot 
 reaches the spot where he was. 
 
 When the mother Grebe is swimming about with 
 her little ones, teaching them to dive after minnows 
 and bolt them down whole, she will often take them 
 for a very curious ride. They get on her back, grasp 
 her feathers tightly with their feet, and she dives 
 while they hold bravely on. I watched a mother 
 once who had only a single chick, though the family 
 is usually large. When the pair saw me, the little 
 fellow swam to his mother and she prepared to take 
 him down in the usual wav. But either she went too 
 fast or he lost his hold, for when she disappeared he 
 was washed off, and sat there bobbing up and down 
 
 
BORN IN A BOAT. 
 
 129 
 
 on the ripple she had left, turning about like a walnut 
 shell, the picture of helplessness and loneliness. 
 
 I wonder what the poor mother thought when she 
 came up in some quiet spot and found that her baby 
 had been lost. She did not return while I waited, 
 but I have no doubt they were soon reunited, and very 
 glad she must have been that it was only a wave that 
 had carried him off, and not a snake or a pickerel. 
 
 But you are waiting to hear about the boat in which 
 he was born. It does n't sail about, it is true, but it 
 is really a boat at anchor. 
 
 The mother Grebe makes a nest of coarse reeds 
 woven together. The nest is fastened to reeds that 
 are growing out of the water, and often rests upon 
 the water. It gets water soaked, of course, but the 
 shell, with its lining of skin, keeps the moisture out. 
 The eggs are kept warm by the mother bird, and 
 warm moisture does not keep the young from 
 hatching. 
 
 Grebes are most graceful in the water, but seem 
 out of place on shore. Their feet are placed so far 
 back in their bodies that they can hardly walk or 
 stand. 
 
 >' 
 
4, 
 
 1 
 
 i ^ 
 
 
 lit 
 
 I" ''i 
 
 HOW THE WOOD DUCK GETS HER YOUNG 
 TO THE WATER. 
 
 AV E R Y interesting story it would make to describe 
 all the modes by which young children and 
 animals are carried from place to place by their 
 parents. The Indian papoose travels long distances 
 on its mother's back; young opossums also ride on 
 their mothers' backs, but to get a firmer hold wind 
 their little tails round that of their mother. The 
 mother kangaroo keeps her little children in a pouch 
 or fold of her skin ; little toads, of one kind, live in 
 holes in their mother's back. 
 
 Young birds do little traveling before they learn 
 to use their wings or legs. The Wood Duck, Yinvj- 
 ever, builds her nest in the hollow of a tree, and when 
 the young ducks hatch, she wishes, like all other 
 ducks, to introduce them at once to the water. You 
 have seen a mother cat carry her kittens in her mouth. 
 She holds them tight, but does not hurt them. So 
 the Wood Duck takes her downy little ducklings with 
 her broad bill and flies to the ground. Her family is 
 large ; over a dozen trips are sometimes needed from 
 the nest to the ground. Then the procession starts 
 off for the water, and the little ducks paddle off as 
 easily as if they had not been born on land. 
 
 ;~-^' *J!%ivikiVv. 
 
THE GREAT CARAVAN ROUTE. 
 
 WOU remember that the old (irouse boasted that 
 * he kept warm and well fed even when the ground 
 was frozen and covered with snow. If you were to 
 walk through his woods in January, you would find 
 tracks in the snow, and at last he would start up from 
 under the bushes ahead of you, with a whirr that 
 would frighten you the first time you heard it. And 
 when he had flown off, how silent the woods would 
 be ! You might walk for miles and meet less than 
 half a dozen birds. 
 
 In spring the edges of the woods and the fields 
 near by would ring with bird music, but now a few 
 lisping notes from the Kinglets and Chickadees, the 
 scream of a Blue Jay, or the caw of a Crow would be 
 the only sounds made by birds. 
 
 Not quite the only ones, after all, for the little 
 Downy Woodpecker pays his visits to the grubs at 
 all seasons, and wakes them from their winter sleep 
 by knocking politely at their doors. 
 
 Where have the birds gone } Where is the Oven- 
 bird, a..^; the Tanager? Where are the thrushes 
 and the vireos.? 
 
 It is easy to tell you where they are, but much 
 harder to say how they got there. If you wished to 
 
l.V. 
 
 BJKD WOHI.D. 
 
 visit ihe i^i.!lKls wlicre those birds winter, the forests 
 where flowers .ilways bloom and insects are never 
 killed by frost, ^ou must go either by train to IHor- 
 ida, and t i .lossby steamer from Tan, pa Bay to 
 Havana, < • :uw can take other steam'^rs which sail 
 directly nom lj( ston. New York, and other eastern 
 cities to '"> ^\''.s!. Indies. Unless yoit live on some 
 main liu:. vf>v! '''i^ ha e first to tra^ >. ! a shorter or 
 longer di 'uncc, as the case may be by sifle lines, 
 which bring you ;u Hie big city where the steamers 
 or the fast express trains start. The birds, as you 
 know, can take neither train nor boat. How is it 
 they are in New 1 ngland ii. September, and in 
 November already in Cuba? 
 
 You may have read how from Samai and or 
 Irkutsk the lines of camels stai i for a long and diffi- 
 cult journey across the ti'sert. Many fall exhausted 
 by the way, or are attacked ad killed by highway- 
 men. Merchants, often of different tribes, for' i a 
 company for mutual protection. In tlie Vfr an 
 deserts the caravans tinci pleasant s})Ots ca, d oas* 
 where they halt to refresh tliemselves fron^ he \ 
 or springs, and to rest a little before the take 
 their journeving again. 
 
 The birds, too, form caravans before th*. • start on 
 their long j<'urn'*ys in the fall. They h e their 
 meeting places where differtiit tribes a.ssenibi Thr-'. 
 
 
TIIH 'iKF.ir C.I/iAl iX A'Ol . F. 
 
 ^n 
 
 an the Nhips of the air as the .uik l^ arc ships of the 
 desert. 
 
 Oftfii lue caravan is overt, vCn b) a storm and 
 many birds die, or, v\ len they are resting in some 
 friendly thi-ket or g ve v bbers in the shape of 
 
 It is by iiO nicrii-.s an easy 
 tar the larger part of the birds 
 ic summei mak' it not once but 
 
 hav ks aiiarl thc^i 
 joi y, and y"t, n, 
 
 that are vvi 
 twice \ yt 
 Sonv 
 3 diflT iilt> 
 
 a> ir 
 
 leard 
 
 f fb 
 
 froi; 
 whi 
 
 o ' v-el by da\ cind these have 
 .ng way. Many of you have 
 
 he 1 asant autu ii days, far above, the honk 
 Id gt ese, and you can imaiine that the old 
 »t the head of the great V-sha ed line, can find, 
 ill great height, landmarks ir ;vr rs and lakes 
 ! h(. has passed before and n? mbers. 
 *^ most of the birds go by nig. you think of 
 
 \. ibh '- hawks you will guess wli nd for them 
 
 hi ioun y is far harder. But even ight, if it is 
 
 c ear, poi.ds shine and the mountains, loom up dark 
 n d large, and the old birds that have been that way 
 before find landmarks to steer by. 
 
 They call from t-'ino to time, and the rest of the 
 
 caravan coming behmd answer them. On they fly 
 
 t dawn, when they drop down, tired and hungry, to 
 
 est through the day, and perhaps for several days, 
 
 before they take another night journey. 
 
134 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 I • 
 
 
 I I 
 
 I I- 
 
 I 
 
 It is while they are resting in this way in the 
 thickets, or perhaps in the orchards or gardens of the 
 towns, that men who are fond of birds discover them 
 and learn how they are getting on in their journeys. 
 It may come about some time that a telegram may be 
 sent to the daily papers saying that such and such 
 birds are at Charleston or Savannah or Tampa. This 
 would please many readers, but we must wait till we 
 are much more kindhearted than many people are 
 now, or it would be no kindness to the birds. 
 
 If you were to go out some morning in September 
 and find strange birds in your garden scratching 
 under the currant bushes, or merely hiding and resting, 
 and the next morning find them missing, you would 
 know that your city or town was on the great caravan 
 route from the frozen north to the sunny south. 
 
 As for myself, I am turned hammock contractor 
 for the Orioles, taking my pay in " notes." I throw 
 strings out of the window and they snap at them at 
 once. They sit in the cherry tree hard by and war- 
 ble, " Hurry up, hurry up !" I never found out before 
 just what they said. But if you listen you will find 
 that this is what they first say. — Lowell. 
 
BIRD WORLD IN WINTER. 
 
 WE will go well out of city or village, and, as 
 birds are creatures of habit, we will take 
 counsel of some one whose long acquaintance with 
 them has let him into their secrets, to know where to 
 find them. 
 
 Are we afraid to venture out directly after a storm ? 
 The way to some partial clearing in the woods may 
 be rough, but where tiny birds can be merry and 
 ligh' hearted we will not mind if the frost stings our 
 ears and finger-tips. 
 
 The woods in this case are in Ohio, and the one to 
 tell us of them is Mr. Leander S. Keyser. The first 
 sound that echoes through the woods is the vigorous 
 bugle of the hardy Carolina Wren. The most of the 
 winter birds go in straggling flocks, but this little 
 hero of many storms is apt to be alone. 
 
 Mr. Chapman calls this restless, excitable bird a 
 " feathered Jack-in-a-box," bobbing about, gesticulating 
 with his expressive tail, and seldom in sight more 
 than a minute at a time. He sings as he goes, with 
 a vocabulary so rich he has been called the Mocking 
 Wren. 
 
 How can we help shivering to see a little commu- 
 nity of Tree Sparrows holding a winter carnival in 
 
I i 
 
 I { 
 
 ■- « 
 
 I u 
 
 ft 
 
 136 
 
 BMn WORLD. 
 
 the new-fallen snow ? When once we have had their 
 tracks or footprints pointed out to us, we may be sure 
 we shall find them in our own neighborhoods also in 
 winter. In the wildest wind and snow flurries the 
 Tree Sparrows will keep up their cheerful chirp, while 
 they flit about on the snow as if it were down, picking 
 seeds from grass stems and weed stalks. Emerson 
 defines a weed as a plant man has not yet found a 
 use for. We and the sparrows have found a use for 
 weeds. 
 
 Sometimes the tracks showed that the birds had 
 taken a bite, as it were, and then had flitted across 
 the snow to another spot ; deepened hollows showed 
 where they had wallowed in the drifts for mere fun, 
 as boys delight to do. Brave little sparrows, you are 
 better comrades than we thought. 
 
 " I have seen birds," says Mr. Keyser, " taking pool- 
 baths, shower-baths, dew-baths, and dust-baths. Who 
 will say they never take a snow-bath } " 
 
 Here in the very middle of winter we are watching 
 a Ju-^co. He finds a feast of juicy berries on the dog- 
 wood tree, picks one, dashes down into the snow and 
 nibbles it, then flings the seed away, standing leg- 
 deep in ice crystals until he has eaten it up. The 
 rest of the birds eat their berries where they find them 
 on the trees. Tree Sparrows come to the dogberry 
 tree also, but they reject the pulp and bore the pit for 
 
 ran 
 
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WINTER LIFE. 
 KINGLETS. A BROWN CREEPER 
 
i 
 
 tl 
 
 
 [:• 
 
BIRD WORLD IN WINTER. 
 
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 its tiny kernel, while Robins, Bluebirds, and the rest 
 swallow the berry whole when they come to it. 
 
 One little story that Mr. Keyser tells shall end our 
 January visit. It is about a Junco. 
 
 " From a cornfield I witnessed a little scene that 
 filled me with delight. At some distance I perceived 
 a snowbird eating seeds from the raceme of a tall 
 weed, which bent over in a graceful arch beneath its 
 dainty burden. I climbed the fence and crept cau- 
 tiously nearer to get a better view of the little diner- 
 out. What kind of a discovery do you suppose I 
 made } I could scarcely believe my eyes. 
 
 " There beneath the weed, hopping about on the 
 snow, were a Tree Sparrow and a Junco, picking up 
 the seeds that their companion above was shaking 
 down. It was such a pretty little comedy that I 
 laughed aloud for pure delight. It seemed for all the 
 world like a boy in an apple tree shaking down the 
 mellow fruit for his playmates, who were gathering it 
 from the ground as it fell. Farther on in the woods 
 I saw a Junco dart up to a weed too small to afford 
 him a comfortable perch, give it a shake which would 
 bring down a quantity of seeds, and then flit below 
 and eat them from the white tablecloth." 
 
n 
 
 ( 
 
 B7TID LODGINGS IN WINTER. 
 
 \yW"E have been told what Robins do at night; but 
 » » Robindom is but a small part of Bird World. 
 It does not matter mi'ch on summer nights, but in 
 early February and March, or even in the storms of 
 April and May, we might rest better if we knew just 
 how the birds we were so glad to see in the morning 
 sunshine were faring now that the sun has cone down. 
 It is quite plain that nothing troubles a bird much 
 but fear ()f enemies and scarcity of food. If he can 
 keep the little heart within him warm and safe, he 
 will make a merry life. Since it was found out what 
 Robins do, bird students have been watching late and 
 rising before dawn to solve the kindly problem of 
 birds' night quarters. 
 
 The first thought is that they would be in bushes 
 and trees ; but it seems that the Snowbirds are much 
 more likely to be on, or in, or near the ground, unless 
 they find holes in old trees as woodpeckers do. In 
 little mounds of sod thrown up by the frost a neat 
 little entrance has often been found to lead to the 
 snug, cosy bedroom of a Snowbird. Little hollowed 
 places, such as field m.ice make in summer, have been 
 taken and, with a little grass pulled over, have sheltered 
 
BIRD LODGINGS IN WINTER. 
 
 139 
 
 Juncos as nicely as could be wished. A brush pile 
 left by wood-choppers has given protection to some 
 little mixed colony. Tall grass will de Meadow- 
 
 larks and Red-winged Blackbirds, and ^ bushes, 
 
 into which the owl or bigger creatures could not 
 crawl, may protect a spot where a covering of leaves 
 makes comfort enough for the brave little sojourners. 
 If we stop to think, we shall see that a tall tree top 
 would be a much colder place ; and while the birds 
 will make the best of what they have, they will seek 
 far to find comfort. 
 
 THE BIRD. 
 
 Hither thou com'st. The busy wind all night 
 Blew through thy lodging, where thy own warm wing 
 Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm, 
 For which coarse man seems much the fitter born, 
 
 Rain'd on thy bed 
 
 And harmless head ; 
 And now as fresh and cheerful as the light 
 Thy little heart in early hymns doth sing 
 Unto the IVovidence, whose unseen arm 
 Curb'd them, and cloth'd thee well and warm. 
 All things that be praise Him ; and had 
 Their lesson taught them when first made. 
 
 Henry Vaughan. 
 
THE EAGLE. 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 ! 
 
 IT is hard to tell just how the Bald Eagle came to be 
 our national emblem. It certainly is not from the 
 character of the bird, for he is a sort of tramp, and 
 sometimes even a thief. I think it must have been 
 from his splendid power of flight, and the fine appear- 
 ance he makes when he is soaring high in the sky. 
 An eagle with his great wings outspread looks so 
 majestic and so powerful that he might easily, in such 
 an attitude, represent the power and greatness of a 
 nation. 
 
 Watch a Bald Eagle getting his dinner, and much 
 of your respect for him will vanish. If he does not 
 steal it, he picks it up here and there like a street- 
 dog, — a dead fish by the shore of a lake, or a dead 
 lamb which the dogs have killed. He often watches 
 an Osprey or Fishhawk till he sees him catch a fish, 
 and then chases him till the hawk with a scream ot 
 disappointment drops the meal for which he has 
 worked. The eagle pi I:s it up, and enjoys the ill- 
 gotten food. 
 
 Let us try to gain for our national er ^em such a 
 reputation that people will think only cs the power 
 and majesty of the eagle, and forget his lazy and 
 thievish habits. 
 
 
THE CHICKADEE. 
 
 A POET was once walking in the Concord woods 
 in winter. The snow was deep ; it was bitterly 
 cold ; his home was a long way off. He stumbled 
 along, feeling so dis- 
 couraged and so help- 
 less that it seemed as 
 though he must give 
 up the struggle. 
 
 Just then he heard a 
 bright, cheerful note, 
 and in the twigs above 
 him he saw a Chicka- 
 dee hopping about as 
 gaily as if it were 
 spring, and calling such 
 a brisk greeting that it 
 seemed he must be 
 really glad to see a fellow-traveler. 
 
 The poet felt ashamed that such a "little scrap of 
 valor " could face the storm all day and all night, with- 
 out ever losing his courage or even his cheerfulness; 
 he determined to take the bird for his model, and like 
 him be merry and brave, no matter how discouraging 
 life might sometimes seem. 
 
 Fig. 2;. — Chickadee. 
 
I 
 
 f i 
 
 \ 
 
 : I 
 
 I 
 
 > ! 
 
 l^ff^^ 
 
 A BIRD-PARADISE. 
 
 MANY of the islands in the I'acific Ocean are so 
 small that no people live on them ; but they are 
 large enough for multitudes of birds to make them 
 their homes. Winter never comes to these islands, 
 and the birds spend their whole lives on the same 
 spot where they and their forefathers were born. 
 
 Occasionally it happens that vessels touch at these 
 islands, that their crew may get fresh water or explore 
 the shores and draw maps such as you have in your 
 geographies. When these sailors or map-makers land, 
 they find to their surprise that the birds have no fear 
 of their strange visitors. 
 
 Instead of flying to the tops of trees or hiding in 
 bushes, the birds walk about men's feet or light on 
 their shoulders. When some men rode on horses, the 
 birds lighted on the backs of the horses and picked at 
 the saddles to see what these new contrivances were. 
 When one explorer was picking up shells along the 
 beach, a little bird followed him, almost snatching the 
 shells out of his hands in its curiosity to know what 
 the man was doing. 
 
 Why were the birds so fearless ? They were no more 
 stupid than their cousins here. Their courage came 
 
 ' ^^"fii^firs^aEs^ir^R 
 
--/ rURD-rARADJSK. 
 
 H3 
 
 from their ignorance of the harm men could do. No 
 men had ever hunted them. The guns which they 
 saw and the noise of the firing meant nothing to 
 them ; to our birds it means broken wings and blood- 
 stained feathers. 
 
 It seems a pity, does it not, that it is only where 
 man is not known that he is not feared. If we all 
 had treated birds kindly, man would be loved best 
 where he is best known. 
 
 LiTTi.E birds sit on the telegraph wires 
 
 And chitter, and flitter, and fold their wings , 
 
 Maybe they thinic that for them and their sires, 
 Stretched always, on purpose, those wonderful strings, 
 
 And perhaps the Thought that the world inspires 
 Did plan for the birds, among other things. 
 
 Little things light on the lines of our lives, — 
 
 Hopes and joys and acts of to-day, 
 And we think that for these the Lord contrives, 
 
 Nor c tch what the hidden lightnings say; 
 Yet, from end to end. His meaning: arrives, 
 
 And His word runs, underneath, all the way. 
 
 •Mrs. a. u. T. VVhitnev. 
 
 ^BSSLn.i^ms^^^^mES^^'*:. 
 
 '^ 
 
 ^'i-:.. 
 
THE SEA-GULL. 
 
 FAR f'om the loud sea beaches, 
 Where he goes fishing and crying 
 Here in the inland garden, 
 Why is the sea-gull flying? 
 
 Here are no fish to dive for ; 
 
 Here is the corn and lea ; 
 Here are the green trees rustling 
 
 Hie away home to the sea! 
 
 Fresh is the river water. 
 
 And quiet among the rushes; 
 This is no home for the sea-gull, 
 
 But for the rooks and thrushes. 
 
 Pity the bird that has wandered * 
 
 Pity the sailor ashore ! 
 Hurry him home to the ocean. 
 
 Let him come here no more ! 
 
 High on the sea-cliff ledges. 
 
 The white gulls are trooping and crying ; 
 Here among rooks and roses, 
 
 Why is the sea-gull flying ? 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson. 
 
HERRING GULLS AND THEIR NESTING PLACES. 
 
H-' 
 
 I J'l^i'1lifsr'^A^\**■rl^^^w^ 
 
A GREAT TRAVELER. 
 
 A good south wind sprung up behind, 
 The Albatross did follow, 
 And every day, for food or play. 
 Came to the mariner's hollo ! 
 
 in mist or cloud, on mast or shroud. 
 
 It perched for vespers nine ; 
 
 While all the night, through fog-smoke white, 
 
 Glimmered the white moonshine. 
 
 IF the little birds went to school instead of being 
 * taught at home, what do you suppose would be 
 the most important study ? Arithmetic ? No, indeed. 
 The very wisest of them can't count up to ten. Gram- 
 mar ? Not at all. They don't even know the Parts 
 of Speech, though they have certainly heard Excla- 
 mations enough. 
 
 Would it be geography.? Yes. I suppose most 
 birds would have to have geography every day in the 
 week. At any rate, the old birds know enough about 
 it, and practice almost every hour what they know. 
 
 The old Grouse you read about knew every bush 
 and clump of ferns in his swamp, and the little paths 
 which led up to the hill, and the pine grove above the 
 swamp. He knew its products and its climate, where 
 
 mil iiimi III II III iwliiiiii imii iii im ■ ii w 
 
146 
 
 BIRD WO A' LP. 
 
 the buds and berries grew, and wliat kind of wind 
 and sky meant rain. 
 
 But, after all, the Grouse would not have been the 
 best teacher of geography the birds could have found 
 for their school. He knew the swamp and the woods 
 around it, but a j;jurney to the next swamp would 
 have seemed to him quite a long one. 
 
 In fact, you remember, he rather prided himself on 
 being a -rtay-at-home, and when his friend the Oven- 
 bird told him about the beautiful southern forests, I 
 can fancy him listening politely, but not carin;^- much 
 about them. 
 
 1 he Ovenbird would make a better teacher, would 
 he not ? Think, for a moment, what he sees every 
 year of his life: the dry oak woods of the north are 
 his home in the summer; he knows them almost as 
 well as the Grouse does, and can find his way about 
 from the little brook where the fat spiders live, to the 
 dry bank where his mate has built her little oven. 
 Then in October he spends a few days in New York 
 State, flies across the broad Hudson, and then on to 
 the shores of Chesapeake Bay. A week or two later 
 he would be taking his way over the fallen needles of 
 the great Georgia pines, and the next week watching 
 the alligators in a Florida swamp. 
 
 Here a few of his friends think it warm enough 
 to spend the winter, but he flies over the warm Gulf 
 
A GREAT TRAVELER. 
 
 H7 
 
 Stream, over the coral islands, and comes to some 
 little island of the West Indies, where the great palms 
 wave along the shore. Here there are spiders enough 
 for him and for all his northern and southern friends. 
 
 He sees the beautiful white Herons and the red 
 Flamingoes, but side by side with him in the bushes 
 are some friends who have made the long journey 
 from the north in his company, Maryland Yellow- 
 throats and Summer Yellowbirds, and higher up in 
 the trees Redstarts and Vireos. 
 
 While the Grouse is up in the pine trees where the 
 snow is falling steadily, the Ovenbird hides in thicke"st 
 bushes from the West Indian hurricanes, which lash 
 the tall palms on the shore. 
 
 But your geography teacher tells you about lands 
 further away, — about the white snow fields of Green- 
 land, about the great Pacific Ocean, and the wonder- 
 ful jungles of India, where the tigers steal through 
 the long grass ; or the forests of the Amazon on our 
 own side of the world, where the monkeys make rope- 
 laJders of themselves over the streams. 
 
 I do not think there is any bird that has seen all 
 these places; the great white Owl has traveled much 
 in the north, and could tell many an interesting story 
 of the hare and the grouse, which try to escape his 
 keen eyes by turning white themselves in winter. 
 
 But he never ventures into the Amazon forests or 
 
■vWlrrMi mtk r,' 
 
 148 
 
 B/J?D IVOJiLD. 
 
 the Indian jungle; he is dressed too warmly to enjoy 
 the climate, for one thing, nor does he understand the 
 kind of hunting he would have to do then . He 
 needs wide plains where he can fly silently for miles 
 and miles until he finds a hare crouching behind a 
 hummock. And the Toucan of Brazil and the Horn- 
 bill of India would find no fruit in the barren north 
 country. 
 
 Perhaps the greatest traveler, after all, is the bird 
 mentioned in the verses at the head of this story. 
 
 Fig. 26. - Showing Great Length of Albatross' Wings. 
 
 This traveler's name shows his manner of life, — the 
 Wandering Albatross. He travels all over the south- 
 ern seas from the Cape of Good Hope to Cape Horn 
 and around again; people have watched him from 
 their ships, and every one who has seen him has 
 wondered at his huge wings and the skill with which 
 he uses them. 
 
 He never seems to hurry or to work hard, even 
 against a fierce wind ; now on one side of the ship, 
 now on the otlicr, now low over tlie water, now high 
 in the air. often without a stroke of his wings. 
 
A GREAT TRAVELER. 
 
 149 
 
 Perhaps the best testimonial he could bring, when 
 he applied for his position as Bird School-teacher, 
 would be the following record taken from the wing 
 of an Albatross which the captain of a sailing vessel 
 had caught : 
 
 "'December 8th, 1847. Ship Euphrates, Edwards, New Bed- 
 ford. 16 months out. . . . Lat. 43° 00' South. Long. 148° 40' 
 West. Thick, foggy, with rain.' 
 
 " On the opposite side it reads : ' This was taken from the neck 
 of a Goney [Albatross], on the coast of Chili, by Hiram Luther, 
 Dec. 20th, 1847. In Lat. 45° 50' South. Long. 78° 27' West. 
 Taken out of a small bottle tied round the bird's neck.' 
 
 "The shortest distance between Capt. Edwards's position, 
 .;bout 800 miles east of New Zealand, and Capt. Luther's position 
 off the coast of Chili in the vicinity of Juan Fernandez, is about 
 3400 miles. The bird, therefore, covered at least this distance in 
 the twelve days which intervened between its release and capture." 
 
THE REDSTART. 
 
 
 IN the West Indies, although there are many bright- 
 colored birds which are natives of the islands, our 
 little Redstart is known as Candelita, the little torch. 
 
 Unlike several of the bright-colored birds, such as 
 the Tanager and the Indigo Bird, he does not lose his 
 brilliant colors in the autumn ; the orange patches on 
 his shoulders gleam against his black head all winter 
 in the tropical forests, where he flits about, spreading 
 his yellow tail and catching insects among the leaves. 
 
 By May he is back in New England helping his 
 mate select the best fork in a tree for their pretty 
 nest. If you see the female searching for building 
 material, put out wool or cotton batting, and for a 
 reward you may see where she flies with it and find 
 the nest. 
 
 The little Redstart is one of the unhappy birds on 
 whom the Cowbird forces her ugly young ones, but 
 he brings up the strangers faithfully. 
 
 Nothing but good can be said of either the male or 
 the female Redstart ; they catch countless insects, 
 cheer us by their beauty and pretty ways, and bring 
 lip their young to be hard-working and cheerful like 
 themselves. 
 
 ^^'i< 
 
 
THE HUMMING BIRD. 
 
 THERE is always great excitement when a Hum- 
 ming Bird's nest is found. It is so rarely seen, 
 so skilfullj' and beautifully made, that it seems more 
 like a bit of bird life from fairy land than a real bird's 
 nest. The nest is generally saddled on a dead twig 
 and covered with the gray lichen which clothes dead 
 twigs, so that unless you see the little mother sitting 
 in it, you pass it by for a gray, lichen-covered knob. 
 Look into ii and see the two tiny white eggs not 
 larger than pea beans. 
 
 If the nest looks like that of a fai) y bird, th'^ parents 
 look even more like strangers in ihe Bird World. 
 Among the great gaudy flowers of the tropics, Hum- 
 ming Birds probably seem more in place. Here, 
 however, their quick whirring flight, their silence, 
 their sudden coming and going, make the sight of 
 one something to remember and be glad for. People 
 who love flowers and live among them are oftenest 
 visited by these tiny birds. Often the bird seems to 
 have a regular route, and comes to the same garden 
 and the same flowers at nearly the same hour of the 
 day. 
 
 "*■ 
 
 J V'iiri',rA»"r41Lif. 
 
»52 
 
 HIKD HON 1.1). 
 
 If 
 
 II 
 
 t I-' 
 
 5f 
 
 Is 
 
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 Oiice, uhile sitting oti a piazza in the country, al^mg 
 wlii h there grew many lluwcrs which ti '' Humming 
 liird loved, a lady saw two of them go tli igh a very 
 remarkabU' and beautifi ' movement. The two birds 
 hovered in the air about ten feet apart, their wings 
 beating so fast that it was impossible to see them. 
 Suddenly the birds shot down and passed each other, 
 then up, till each stopped in the position which the 
 other one had held. This movement they repeated 
 several times. It seemed as if the birds were execut- 
 ing some beautiful dance. 
 
 South and North America are the only countries 
 which possess Humming Birds. In the eastern part 
 of the United States we have only one , pecies, but 
 in California several are found, and as one goes 
 southward, they become more numerous; in South 
 America there are several hundred species. Among 
 these are some of the most gorgeous colors in nature. 
 The throat and neck feathers particularly shine with 
 changeable colors, like brilliant jewels. The bills of 
 the bitds, too, are extremely interesting. Some are 
 long and curved, sf) that the bird can feed from the 
 honey at the bottom of the long tube-like flowers. It 
 is a sad sight in South America to see the boxes of 
 Humming Birds' skins pulled from their poor, bleed- 
 ing; little bodies and sent to the milliner's to decorate 
 
 women s 
 
 hats. 
 
TIJF 'fUMMING BJA'JJ, 
 
 »53 
 
 Our Humming Bird, the Ruby-throated, lives, as 
 you kn(.w, on the sweet nectar of flowers. Birds 
 often fly into the open windows in summer, and, if 
 caught, are easily tamed. They will live on sugar 
 and water, and many stories are told of their pretty 
 ways in captivity. The prettiest sight, however, must 
 have been to see them dart off happily again when 
 their captors released them. 
 
 We have been taught how many plants need insects 
 to bring their pollen for some other plant to fertilize 
 their blossoms. The Humming Bird renders this 
 service. We are not sure he would do so simply for 
 the sweets the deep chalices contain, but he knows 
 that where honey is insects are sure to be, and he 
 inserts his long curved bill. 
 
 I like sometimes, on a cool, clear night in Septem- 
 ber, to think of the little Humming Birds away up in 
 the darkness, their wings buzzing and their long bills 
 pointing straight for the West Indies. Twice a year 
 the little mites take a journey of thousands of miles in 
 the night times, coming back when our spring returns 
 and our flowers are again in bloom. 
 
 All of us know the habit of the Humming Bird of 
 poising himself in the air and keeping up a quick 
 vibration of his wings, so that they can hardly be seen 
 as wings at all. 
 
 Humming Birds are said to be little centers of pas- 
 
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 (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 
 
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 ^ /APPLIED IIVMGE Inc 
 
 ^^ 1653 East Main Street 
 
 S^S Rochester. New York 14609 USA 
 
 '-^ (716) 482 - OJOO - Ptione 
 
 ^S (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax 
 
154 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 sion If they do not find in a flower the honey or 
 insects they expected, they will sometimes tear it to 
 pieces, as if in a great rage. 
 
 The Humming Bird nest is the most exquisite 
 little fabric you can imagine. It is like a fairy thing 
 Its tiny white eggs are not larger than the smallest 
 bean, and the naked little ones when they hatch have 
 been compared to bluebottle flies. 
 
 u 
 
 ;l 
 
 j,-,y 27. _ Kose-breasted Grosbeak. 
 
 sJ-.-vA^'stvi^v f3?^ii3 ,ini®3W!BP ■■».'afl?:>7f «*« faia#s?s;<^r 
 
 ''•^^ ■'-^.Z-fC-'iL-l^'' mt^-Arr ••>.^.^'ir;.ir'... 
 
AS FREE AS A BIRD. 
 
 EVERY good thing in the world must be earned. 
 A bird would have less care and fewer moments 
 of anxiety if it lived in a cage, if it were sheltered in 
 stormy times, protected from enemies, and provided 
 with food. But the bird prefers, as you would, I hope, 
 to run the dangers of a free life for the sake of its 
 pleasures. 
 
 In ordinary seasons, and for the greater part of the 
 year, these pleasures are many. Chief among them 
 in the case of many birds must be the joy of having 
 wings. When an Ovenbird mounts high in air, and 
 then, closing his wings, shoots down a hundred feet 
 or more. It seems as if he must enjoy the rush of the 
 air and the speed of his flight. 
 
 Hawks often soar in great curves, hardly moving 
 their wings, but rising on the up-current of air, till 
 they seem mere specks in the blue sky. They do this 
 with no apparent purpose, but as if it were a sport. 
 Some of the water birds — the Gannets, for instance 
 — have such powerful wings that the fiercest winds 
 cannot drive them out of their course; they circle 
 about in tremendous storms as if they enjoyed the 
 wild scene. 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
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 M 
 
 ^^ 
 
 '56 
 
 B/A'D IV0RL7). 
 
 It is in nesting time, of course, that birds suffer the 
 most anxiety. When any strange creature approaches 
 the nest, the mother's restless eye watches anxiously. 
 The father is often near at hand, and if the nest or 
 young are threatened, an outcry is raised at once. 
 
 The day the young first fly and the succeeding ones, 
 till they are skilful and strong, are times of watchful- 
 ness. Belt there are many happy hours even in nest- 
 ing time. Bright, sunny days come, when the male 
 sings for hours from some tree near by, and the female 
 broods on the nest, happy to feel the warm eggs under 
 
 her. 
 
 When the young are old enough to care for them- 
 selves, then the birds' holiday begins, and it often 
 lasts till the following spring. Nothing to do now 
 but to get food from the thick patches of weeds or 
 the numerous insects. An eye must be kept out for 
 the shadow of a hawk's wing, and by the game birds 
 for the approach of a gunner; but many birds run 
 little risk even from these enemies. Many of the 
 birds flock together at this season; many sleep in 
 great companies, and at night, when they go to bed, 
 they make as much noise and have as jolly a time as 
 a band of children. 
 
 A bird's memory is too short to remember suffering 
 for long, and his little brain does not look forward, as 
 our-s do, to evil that may come. His nature teaches 
 
 •ma^rz. ..•a!aflraai^'."?^E&!i.*^.'«rir*-3?3«6 
 
A PAIR OF ORIOLES 
 
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 K!SJfSCnEm<iMljb«°^ jFi . ff- l-wr.L sir.. 
 
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 ^^901 
 
AS FREE AS A BIRD. 
 
 157 
 
 him to be wide-awake, but he does not borrow trouble. 
 When it rains, he hides in some thick shelter ; when 
 it is cold, he fluffs out his feat^ ^rs ; when the sun 
 comes out, he sings again from joy. A poet once 
 envied the fishes their " sweet, silver life wrapped in 
 round waves," but a bird has all the pleasures that a 
 fish can enjoy, and the sun, the warmth, and song 
 besides. 
 
 Fig. 28. — Cedar Bird. 
 
 _ 
 
 ?y?«^« 
 
 5rn"-~ 7iic:-?; 
 
 ^:*'- mr 
 
II 
 
 lltl 
 
 TO THE GREAT AND GENERAL COURT OF 
 MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 lFi\ the Song birds of Massachusetts and their Play- 
 fellows, make this our humble pdition} 
 
 J/f/E know more about you than yon think we do. We 
 ^ know how good yon are. We have hopped about the 
 roofs an ' looked in at the ivindows of the houses you luzve 
 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 own children, 
 especially your poor children, to play tn. 
 
 Every year we fly a great way over the country, keeping alt 
 the time where t''e sun is bright and zvarm ; and rve know 
 that whenever you do anything, other people all over the great 
 land betiveen n,, . ' and the great lakes find it out, and 
 pretty soon -l " ^ do the same thing. We know; we 
 
 know. We a>e . .m ncans fjist as you are. Some of tis, like 
 some of you, came from across the great sea, but most of the 
 birds like us have lived here a long while ; and birds like us 
 welcomed your fathers zvhen they came here many years ago. 
 Our fathers and mothers have always done their best lo please 
 your fathers and mothers. 
 
 1 This petition, reduced in size from the original manuscript now 
 lying in the Massachusetts State House, was written by Hon. George F. 
 Hoar and illuminated by Miss Ellen Hale. 
 
 
 ja.'ur-'mTJinBr , u mn- »i- 
 
 
SONG BIRDS OF MASSACHi'SETTS. 
 
 »59 
 
 i,i;2 
 
 
 Fig. 29. — Song Birds of Massachusetts. 
 
 Now we / ave a sad story to tell you. Thought- 
 less 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 wou: I 
 be our best friends, kill our brothers and children 
 
 
 ' - - -St,.* 
 
i6o 
 
 fUKD MORLr. 
 
 , 4 -I 
 
 ill 
 
 I 
 
 so thai tluy may wear thiir plnuiagc on tlnir hats. Sonw- 
 tiiuis people kill us from mere %>.>antonttess. Cruel boys 
 destroy our uests ami steal our eggs and our young ones. 
 People with guns and snares lie in wai; to kill us, as if the 
 place for a bird zvere not in the sky, alive, but in a shop 
 windo'tv, or under a glass case. If this goes on much longer, 
 all your song birds will be gone. Already, tve are told, in 
 some other countries that used to be full of birds, they are 
 almost gone. Even the nightingales are being all killed in 
 Italy. 
 
 Now we humbly pray that you will stop all this, and will 
 save us from this sad fate. Yon have already made a law 
 that no one shall kill a harmless song bird or destroy our nests 
 or our eggs. Will yon please to make another that no one 
 shall wenr our feathers, so that no one will kill us to gii 
 them f We ivant them all ourselves. Your pretty girls are 
 pretty enough without them. We are told that it is as easy 
 for you to do it as for Blackbird to whistle. 
 
 If you xvill, we kno7v how to pay you a hundred times over. 
 
 We will teach your children to keep themselves clean and neat. 
 
 We zvill shoiv them how to live together in peace and love and 
 to agree as 7ve do in our nests. We zvill build f>retty houses 
 which you ivill like to see. We will play about your gardens 
 and flower beds, — ourselves like fioivers on ivings, — zvithout 
 any cost to you. We xvill destroy the ivicked insects and 
 worms that spoil your cherries and currants and plums and 
 apples an-i roses. We will give you our best songs and make 
 tre spring more beautiful and :hc summer sweeter to you. 
 
 Every June morning whin yon go out into the field. Oriole 
 
SONG lilKDS OI' MASSACJU SKITS, l6l 
 
 and Hlackbird and Bobolink ivill Jty after yon and make the 
 day more delightfnl to yon ; and ivhen yon go home tired at 
 
 ^andown. Vesper Sparrozv xvill tell yon hozv grateful we are. 
 When we sit on yon r porch afte>- dark, Fife Bird and Hennit 
 Thrnsh and IVjnd Thmsk will sing to yon ; and even Whip- 
 
 poor- 7vill will cheer np a little. We know where we are safe. 
 
 In a little while all the birds will come to -v in Massachn- 
 
 setts again, and everybody who loves mnsic -will like to make 
 
 a summer home with you. 
 
u 
 
 I i 
 
 BIRDS' ENEMIES. 
 
 NONE of us know what it is to live in the - idst 
 of enemies; to go to bed at night worn ring 
 whether Indians are not hiding in the darkness wait- 
 ing to burn our house and carry us off prisoners. 
 
 Many children, two hundred years ago, when the 
 French and Indians were at va^ with the settlers, saw 
 their fathers load their guns at night and go to sleep, 
 ready to run with them to the blockhouse if th( 
 alarm were sounded. 
 
 The birds, like the early settlers, are never free 
 from fear. Their enemies are so nui^perous, so fierce, 
 so quick, that they must be constantly on the wptch, 
 and, like the early settlers, have to guard, not them- 
 selves only, but their young ones and their eggs. 
 
 Most of the birds' enemies are looking for a meal, 
 and hope to pick the flesh off the bones oi some 
 plump Robin or Quail. A few are af ra ' of the .-.'larp 
 bills of the old birds, and so prowl about, hoping to 
 seize the helpless young when their parents are away 
 for a moment, or to break and open the eggs and eat 
 the uncooked omelet which they find in them. 
 
 Some go about boldly by day, either soaring high 
 overhead or sitting motionless on some lookout post, 
 
 
 mm. 
 
 ^ 
 
HJJiJJS' EiWiiMJFS. 
 
 '^3 
 
 and the eyes of such enemies are so sharp that most 
 birds prefer to keep near bushes or trees so that 
 they may dive into them at the first sight of their foe. 
 Chickadees fly from tree to tac, and if they come to 
 an open space they slip over, one by one, as hurriedly 
 as nossible. A hat thrown up when they are starting 
 f as them so that they hurry back to shelter. 
 
 ' V e midday enemies are mostly hawks, swilc, stroncr 
 robbers, with crooked claws and powerful bills. So!-e 
 of them have very long wings, sc that they can go 
 like an arrow at their victim, and when ihey reach 
 him and strike their talons into his breast, the force 
 of their flight often strikes him to the ground, where 
 the hawk's hooked oill soon makes an end of the 
 unfortunate bird. 
 
 Other enemies fly softly about at dusk. You have 
 already read about the owls and know how the birds 
 hate the sight of them. There is another night wan- 
 derer whom many of the birds fear and despise as 
 much as they do an owl. It is an animal of which 
 you are probably very fond, your own gentle Pussy 
 But if Pussy were four or perhaps ten times as big as 
 you are, and you saw her big yd!, ^a eyes glarin<r ..t 
 your little brothers and sisters ox frien-s, reac to 
 spring at them and eat them, you would set up a' cry 
 of warning, too, just as the wrens do when they see 
 her. Many a poor mother-Robin has seen her young 
 
 fc'fl 
 
■ 
 
 V 
 
 I 
 
 
 ;H 
 
 
 l^nf 
 
 
 •M 
 
 r; 
 
 
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 1 
 
 i" .;. 
 
 
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 1 1 
 
 
 i 
 
 
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 S 
 
 
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 164 
 
 B/HD WOULD. 
 
 if 
 
 1 
 
 n 
 
 M if 
 
 It ^i 
 
 ones carried off by cats when they were too young to 
 fly far, but too eager to see the world to stay any 
 longer in the nest. 
 
 Another little animal whom you like very much is 
 no friend of the birds. The little Red Squirrel, who 
 runs up the tree so nimbly, scolding and shaking his 
 tail, and stopping to nibble a nut, eats something 
 besides nuts if he gets a chance. I once saw two 
 Robins who were very much excited. They scolded 
 and flew wildly about, dashing now and then to their 
 nest, which I could s* ^ on the limb of a tree. Pres- 
 ently, as I watched the nest, I saw a squirrel lift his 
 head up only to duck it again, as the angry birds 
 made a dash at him. The rascal was evidently 
 squatting in the midst of the eggs, breaking them 
 open and feasting upon the contents. It must have 
 been a sad sight for the mother when he left the nest, 
 those eggshells, stained and broken, which she had 
 left so glossy and blue a few minutes before. 
 
 Another egg thief is a bird whose love for his own 
 eggs ought to t( vich him better, if they get as far as 
 love for one another in Bird World. In one of Mr. 
 Audubon's famous pictures he has drawn a saucy Blue 
 Jay, who has stuck his bill into an egg and holds it 
 up ready to fly off with it. This trick he has learned 
 with acorns and chestnuts. 
 
 The enemy that the birds would fear most would 
 
 ■ kii 
 
BIRDS' ENEMIES. 
 
 165 
 
 be the snake. If you have been well brought up and 
 know your Alice in Wonderland, you remember how 
 frightened the pigeon was when Alice grew so tall 
 that her long neck reached up through the trees. 
 " You 're a snake," said the pigeon, and would have 
 nothing to do with her. 
 
 Many a poor bird, sitting in her nest, concealed 
 from all enemies, has heard a rustling in the leaves 
 and seen the flat head of the snake, the cold, shiny 
 eyes, and the forked tongue. If she has young in the 
 nest she tries to drive the snake off, and her cries 
 bring other birds; but sometimes the snake is too 
 strong for them and the young are swallowed before 
 the mother's eyes. Not even birds that build in ponds 
 are safe, for snakes can swim as well as climb. How 
 is it, then, that birds manage to protect themselves 
 from so many enemies .? The list is long already, and 
 yet we have not mentioned the foxes, the crows, the 
 Butcher Bird, and other marauders and thieves. 
 
 To begin with, if the bird's enemies are sly, the 
 bird itself is wide-awake. Watch a wren in a stone 
 wall, or a Song Sparrow in a brush heap, and see how 
 he slips in and out like a mouse. No matter how 
 busily the bird is feeding or frolicking, he never for- 
 gets that danger may be near, and on the first sign of 
 an enemy all is silence and the place is apparently 
 deserted. 
 
1 66 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 I! 
 
 Illhf 
 
 It is very strange to walk where birds are singing 
 all about, and to notice that they have suddenly 
 become silent and motionless. If you look up, there 
 is probably a hawk flying overhead. The birds have 
 seen him before you have, and dare not move a 
 feather that will attract attention. Most of their long 
 journeys are performed at night. Many of them 
 make even their shorter journeys from place to place 
 about their homes by slipping from bush to bush or 
 along stone walls and thickets. 
 
 Only birds that are strong and swift of wing feel 
 free to fly straight through the air. Some birds are 
 so skilful in the air that they take no pains to conceal 
 themselves ; if the hawk is swift, they are swifter. It 
 would be waste of time for most hawks to chase a 
 swallow; the swallows know it and fly boldly about 
 in the open sky. 
 
 To protect the young and the eggs is a harder 
 matter. If an enemy finds these, there is no escape. 
 The bird, therefore, tries to hide the nest or to place 
 it out of reach. It is only when winter comes and 
 the trees and branches are bare that we see all about 
 us th<. lests which, though full last spring of eggs and 
 young, were never noticed. 
 
 By putting the nest behind protecting leaves, 
 under a tuft of grass or a loose piece of bark, by build- 
 ing it of material colored like the ground or twigs on 
 
 ?i'..-Wi^'':^n.--fcttr--»->«.'-rSB!'»S!"^-JS, 
 
BIRDS' en£;mies. 
 
 167 
 
 which it rests, the bird hopes to conceal it from all 
 strange eyes. When she sits, her own sober colors 
 and quiet position prevent her from being noticed. 
 
 The Oriole hangs her pendent nest at the ends of 
 long twigs, for the squirrels do not care to trust their 
 weight at the tips of long branches, and the nest is 
 too deep for other creatures to get into. The wood- 
 pecker's holes are too narrow to admit any enemies 
 besides snakes, so that neither woodpeckers nor Orioles 
 take great pains to conceal their nests. 
 
 Many birds that live on the ground have still 
 another way of keeping enemies from discovering 
 their nests, — a way which it takes courage to carry 
 out, and which wins our respect. The mother bird 
 often attracts attention to herself, and so leads us away 
 from the nest, by pretending lamenvs; and fluttering 
 slowly off in the opposite direction. 
 
 Many birds, too, though very cowardly when they 
 themselves are attacked, show surprising courage in 
 defending their nests and young. The hen, for 
 example, is by no means brave, but she covers her 
 chickens with her wings at sight of a hawk and looks 
 him boldly in the face. 
 
 When we see the birds thus kept in constant fear 
 by such a variety of enemies, liable to attack in any 
 place, by day or night, does it not seem hard that 
 those to whom they can give the greatest pleasure, 
 
 iir II III III 'iiiii rvKi^ar* 
 
 riaiK»'wi-,ac7-3''Sf^'3: 
 
p 
 
 1 i . ' 
 
 •'1 1 '- 
 
 ' ii 
 
 M 
 
 I 
 
 t J: 
 
 1 68 
 
 B/Ji£>- WORLD. 
 
 who ought to be their chief protectors and friends, 
 are often their worst enemies ? 
 
 Men can do them more harm than all their other 
 enemies combined. They hunt the old birds for food, 
 and sometimes for mere amusement; and thought- 
 less boys take their eggs to gratify a passing whim. 
 Women wear the feathers and even the bodies of birds 
 on their hats. If every one could come into Bird 
 World as we have done, and could learn to know and 
 love the birds, I think the Feathered Folk would have 
 one less enemy, and by and by be much more happy 
 and confiding:. 
 
 Fig. 30.— The Bluebird. 
 
 f 
 
FAMILIES IN BIRD WORLD. 
 
 yHERE are often families of people, the children 
 of which resemble one or both parents so closely 
 !l u^."""^ knowing the parents is able to recognize 
 the chi dren. This resemblance of parent and child 
 IS due to the law of inheritance. Children will be like 
 their parents all through nature. 
 
 There is, however, another law not so easy to under- 
 stand as the law of inheritance, according to which 
 -wo children of the same parents will differ from each 
 other in a thousand little ways. We can see this very 
 easily among our friends; brothers and sisters are 
 alike and yet different. Only in very rare cases is it 
 hard to tell them apart. This law also holds true 
 throughout nature, and though it is often hard for 
 our eyes to see differences among animals, it i. easy 
 to see ma litter of pups or a family of kittens how 
 different m size, marking, and disposition the differ- 
 ent individuals are. 
 
 Ther two laws have been at work in the world for 
 ages, a^ between them, and with the help of one or 
 two other laws, the earth has been peopled with a 
 wonderful multitude of plants and animals of all kinds. 
 
 Students of iiatural history, by looking for resem- 
 
 I 
 
 
 
170 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 blances and differences, try to trace back the descent 
 o*^ all these creatures and plants, and to discover how 
 many are descended from the sa le ancestor. 
 
 When books on natural history speak of this or 
 that family of birds, the words do not mean parents 
 and thcr four or five children ; they mean all the 
 birds which resemble each other so closely that they 
 probably have descended from the same bird. It is 
 like a clan in Scotland, where in thousands of houses 
 you find people who belong to one great family ; they 
 are all related, and many can trace their relationship 
 to the head or chief of their clan. 
 
 In some cases it is easy in Bird World to see the 
 relationship in a great family ; in others it is not evi- 
 dent at the first glance. The Ducks, for instance, 
 form a great family which any one could separate ; 
 their webbed feet, their bills, their peculiar shape, all 
 serve to mark them as distinct from other families 
 and related to each other. 
 
 Parrots form another large and easily defined family. 
 Owls resemble each other all over the world. In the 
 F'lycatcher family and the Sparrow family the resem- 
 blance is not so easily seen, but close examination 
 shows that the birds have the same style of wing, 
 that the wings and tail have the same relative length 
 or the same general shape. Colors vary more than 
 the shape of the bills, wings, and feet, so that in the 
 
FAMILIES IN BIRD WORLD. 171 
 
 same family there may be very plain or very bright 
 birds. It is only by examining the bill that we dis- 
 cover that the bright-colored Rose-breasted Grosbeak, 
 for instance, is really a sparrow. 
 
 Families are often related to other families; the 
 Ducks are related to the Swans and to the Geese 
 Herons and Storks are related. One of the strangest 
 relationships is that between the Chimney Swift and 
 the Humming Bird, birds so different in appearance 
 and in habits. For a long time the Swift was thought 
 to be a member of the Swallow Umily, but though 
 his habits are similar, he is not at all a near relation. 
 
 Birds seem to know* very little of their family rela- 
 tionships. If different species have the same habits 
 they flock together. It is true the different species 
 of the swallow family often gather in great flocks, but 
 other flocks are often seen, made up of warblers 
 vireos. Kinglets, and Chickadees, birds belonging to 
 four different fa.nilies. 
 
 The Duck family and the Hen family (to which the 
 Grouse, Turkey, and Guinea Fowl belong) have, in one 
 way, been the most useful family to man, for they 
 have supplied so many domestic birds. The hawks 
 and owls have probably been the most fiercely attacked 
 by man. The family of perching birds, which include 
 nearly all our singing birds, — sparrows, thrushes 
 warbl-s, swallows, etc., -are best beloved by man' 
 
 I 
 
 \ i> 
 
 ffi 
 
M 
 
 FEATHERS AND FLIGHT. 
 
 IF you were swimming, would you spread your fingers 
 apart or close them ? When you have answered 
 this question and thought a little about your reasons, 
 you will understand more easily what I am going to 
 tell vou about a bird's feather. The air through which 
 the bird makes its way must 
 be swept aside, just as the 
 water is swept by your closed 
 fingers or by the blade of an ^. 
 oar. If the air could blow 
 through between the wing 
 feathers, the bird could not 
 get ahead. 
 
 Look now at the strong feather in Fig. 32, or, 
 better still, examine a feather itself. You see a shaft 
 running the length of the feather, and from it runs a 
 long row of barbs, as they are called — short, stout 
 ones from the outer side of the shaft, longer, more 
 slender ones from the inner side. Try to separate 
 two of these barbs by stretching out the whole row. 
 Do you see how they hold together .'' When you have 
 finally pulled two of them apart, pass the forward one 
 — the one nearer the tip of the feather — under the 
 
 Fk;. 31. — Contour Feather. 
 
 sfjCsit-i&'«^:*s*'i ^H!!*i^HKs;g§e^!»3a5^»iEj;. »^@nsBiffi""v'i4KPiM:5a:siiii«ii^--'5 
 
FEATHERS AND FLIGHT. ly^ 
 
 rear one, and you will see that they unite again. With 
 a n^icroscope you can find the hooks by which one 
 barb holds fast to the one in fro. i of it. Now we 
 
 Fio. 32. _ Wing Feather 
 
 The strong feathers, which the bird uses like oars 
 a,e -the wings and tail. The shorter feathers wWh 
 
 wav butt'tt' '""'• '"' ''^^* '°™ -^''^ ■■" "'•^ ^-e 
 dry. When a bird has had his feathers ruffled or wet 
 
 b, it thatT' r"' '"1 ""^='"S«^ "^^^ *'«h his' 
 b.I^ so that they he smoothly in their proper places 
 
 Some birds have feathers which have grown in such 
 peculiar forms that they are used in special w^yt 
 
 Fig. 33.- Strong Feather of Chimney Swift, ^^^^n CreCpCr haVC Stiff 
 
 „,.,,,. , or spiny tail feathers 
 
 which half support the bird in climbing. Many sepa 
 rate feathers of tropical birds grow into beautiful or 
 wonderful forms. The Birds of Paradise have many 
 such ornamental feathers. 
 
'•'I 
 
 174 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 S ; 
 
 iiS 
 
 Did you know that hair and nails were really pieces 
 of a very peculiar skin, nothing more ? They grow 
 from the skin, and though they seem so different, they 
 
 Fig. 34. — Wing of Bam Swallow. 
 
 are really made of the same material. So with birds' 
 feathers. They look first like little pimples in the 
 bird's skin ; out of this the feather pushes and grows 
 till it reaches its proper size. When the feathers are 
 worn by winds and by the twigs of trees, the new 
 
 Fl(i. 35. — Wing of (.iiouse. 
 
 feather pushes up through the skin, and the old 
 feather falls out. 
 
 The little barbs at the tips of the smaller feathers 
 give the color to the bird, the lower parts of the 
 
FRATHERS AND FIJGllT. 
 
 75 
 
 i 
 
 Fig. 36. — Sparrow's Wing. 
 
 feather being overlaid and concealed by the ot ler 
 feathers. The breast feathers of a Robin, for instance, 
 are dull gray ex( ept at the tips, which are bright bay.' 
 
 Some birds wear orf 
 the tips of these 
 feathers by l)riishing 
 them so -tantly, 
 
 just as a n p^ets 
 
 worn dow 1 if he 
 
 rest of H thf is 
 
 of a dift color, 
 
 the bird may change his appearance gn wi^hcu: 
 
 changing a feather. 
 
 You have read, or will read, 
 about several birds that cannot 
 fly. The Dodo could not, and 
 the Apteryx cannot to-day. 
 But you will never hear of a 
 bird without feathers. Nor 
 will you hear of feathered 
 creatures that are not birds. 
 Fur and scales and hair clothe 
 the other creatures of the 
 world. The mark of the bird 
 is to be clothed in feathers. 
 
 To fly — to go from one place in the air to 
 another further on — a bird must take strokes with 
 
 Fig. yi. — Tail of Flicker. 
 
 ■F 
 
 ■■■•^■^ 
 
i 1 
 
 if ; 
 
 
 "J 
 
 ? 
 
 176 
 
 H/AD WORLD. 
 
 his wings. On the end of the wing are the long 
 primary feathers, like the fingers of our hand. These 
 and the secondaries close to them form a strong web 
 which the L rd can hold out at full length or bend 
 at the elbow. The whole wing is joined to the body 
 at the shoulder in such a way that the wing moves 
 forward and down, not straight up and down. It is 
 
 Fig. 38. — Tail of Snowbird. 
 
 Fig. 39. — Tail of Snowbird. 
 
 this forward motion which pushes the bird along, and 
 the downward stroke which keeps him from falling. 
 Some birds — Kingbirds, for example — take rapid 
 strokes, so that they fly in a straight line without 
 falling between the strokes. Woodpeckers, on the 
 other hand, fall some distance between each stroke, 
 so that their flight is a succession of curves. 
 
 The length of a bird's wing is important to notice. 
 A long, narrow wing gives a more power' \ sweep 
 
 'Si, t i -I • 
 
FKATHKKS AND FI.IGHT. 
 
 ny 
 
 and makes a swift flyer. Notice the ease with which 
 a swallow cuts through the air, and then compare 
 the sb .^e of his wing with that of the sparrow's. A 
 long, broad wing is very useful for birds like the eagles 
 and vultures, who spend much time soaring at great 
 
 Fig. 4r._ Tail of Barn Swallow. 
 
 Fig. 41.— Tail of Dove. 
 
 heights. The outspread wings and tail keep them up 
 for hours with little effort on their part. 
 
 rt is much harder for a bird to start to fly than to 
 .go on, unless in a strong wind. Why this is so, it 
 would be hard for you to understand. Some birds, 
 like the Albatross, can remain on the wing for days, 
 but if caught and placed on the deck of a steamer' 
 they cannot rise and fly off. On the ocean they run 
 a long distance :. .pping the water and getting under 
 way, as it is Ccuetl br, ..■ ^hey can rise into the air. 
 
 .15''% r. ' ';%:»s^ t v^pesar 
 
 Ejri^ia-»;>"-V''a--iM.''-*lii5.i4 r^,'-:-~ii&.iV~-*: 
 

 ;; ! 
 
 I=: 
 
 t i ■ 
 
 178 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 When you read about feathers, you learned that all 
 birds had feathers, but that there were some who could 
 not fly, I think you have now learned enough about 
 flight to see why this is so. The heavy birds with 
 short wings — the Auk and the Ostrich — cannot 
 support such weight in the air, so must get along 
 with swimming and running and diving. The long- 
 winged swallow and the broad-winged hawk are as 
 much at home in the air as the fish is in the water. 
 
 FLIGHT. 
 
 Have you ever wondered why it is that a bird 
 flies so surely and straight where he wants to go, 
 while a butterfly flits about in such a haphazard way } 
 
 Those of you who have had to do with boats will 
 know what ballast is, and how necessary it is to a 
 boats even, steady progress. The weight of the boat 
 should be well down in the water. The bird is like 
 a well-ballasted boat. The heavy muscles and the 
 stomach, with its weight of food, are all in the "hold," 
 so to speak, — all down as low as possible, — and the 
 expanse ot the wing is not great enough to out- 
 balance this. In the case of the butterfly the wing 
 expanse is so great and the weight of the body so little 
 that the insect flutters about, driven out of its course 
 by every breath of air. 
 
FEATHERS AND FLIGHT. 
 
 n9 
 
 A boat is so built that it floats even when no work 
 IS done with the oars, but if a bird stops flying, it will 
 fall to the ground. The bird's flight is, therefore, 
 more like swimming, in which a person tries not only 
 to keep up, but to get ahead as well. 
 
 Often, however, a bird ceases to take wing strokes 
 
 but instead of falling to the earth, he glides on through 
 
 the air. This is because he keeps both wings and tail 
 
 spread, and the air, as you well know, will not let a 
 
 broad surface fall as quickly as a narrow one. If a 
 
 bird wants to fall quickly, -if a hawk, for instance 
 
 sees a mouse below him, or a lark wants to shoot 
 
 down to his mate, — he shuts his tail and brings his 
 
 vvings close to his body. Suppose the mouse had 
 
 vanished before the hawk reached the ground, the 
 
 hawk, by opening tail and wings again, will stop his 
 
 downward falling and turn it into an upward and 
 
 onward course. The broad wings and tail help, then 
 
 to support the bird in the air, and the tail acts as a 
 
 brake to cheek his motion. 
 
 
THE SNOWY EGRET. 
 
 H H 
 
 THIS beautiful bird takes advantage of our being 
 in .Bird World to interest us in the saving of his 
 family from utter destruction. 
 
 The food of the Heron family is in watery places, 
 and they get it for the most part by wading. The 
 long legs and neck show how nature has provided 
 the birds for their place. For their beauty she gave 
 them an almost fatal gift. If you were to count in an 
 audience of ladies the soft, light, graceful feathers, 
 called aigrettes, worn in black, white, yellow, blue, — 
 all colors, — you can guess in advance the pitiful story 
 the bird of our lesson has to tell, for he is the Snowy 
 Egret. 
 
 The case is one of the most pitiful in Bird 
 World. To meet the demand of fashion, the plume- 
 lets have to be cut from the bird when they first 
 come to perfection. All that has been said of birds' 
 weddinfj suits shows that this is the time when the 
 wearer of the plumes is most necessary to his family. 
 So absorbed is he in what goes to make up family 
 life that he forgets to exercise the wary habits which 
 the Nature-fairy sets over against her dangerous gift 
 of beautiful adornment. 
 
THE SNOWY EGRET. 
 
 i8i 
 
 At nesting time these birds are so in love with 
 each other and with their babies that they are stupid 
 in watching against danger ; and this is a time when 
 some man, who has become an expert gunner, takes 
 
 Fig. 42. — Snowy Egret. 
 
 an order for supplying a hundred or a thousand 
 aigrettes to a millinery rouse. He knows where in 
 Florida, Mississippi, or Texas marshes he may expect 
 to find a great colony of the birds he wants. So 
 noisy are they he has no difficulty in locating them. 
 You can imagine the rest of the story. It is as if 
 
 ifi 
 
 
 if 
 
 tl 
 
 'i 
 
l82 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 it 
 
 the mothers and fathers of a village were to be taken 
 away and no provision made for four or five little 
 children in every home. 
 
 The parents have a quick death, falling under the 
 marksman's shot, but it takes some time for the brave 
 little ones waiting for food to cease crying and pain- 
 fully wait their release. 
 
 Remember, this had to happen that the graceful 
 aigrettes might make a pretty hat a little prettier than 
 something else might have made it, and you will wish 
 to bt: ome the bird's champion to save its race from 
 so needless a destruction. 
 
 He prayeth well, who loveth well 
 Both man and bird and beast. 
 
 He prayeth best, who loveth best 
 All things both great and small ; 
 
 For the dear God who loveth us, 
 He made and loveth all. 
 
 COLERIIMiE. 
 
THE WOOD THRUSH. 
 
 P ARLY in this book you saw what would probably 
 ^ be called the handsomest song bird in Bird 
 World, the Scarlet Tanager ; but most people would 
 rather live near a Wood Thrush than a Tanager, in 
 spite of his plain brown and white suit. For this 
 Thrush is the finest of all our many songsters; his 
 notes are as rich and sweet as an organ's or those of 
 a stringed instrument. Early in May he reaches 
 New England, but when the hot days of August 
 come, he stops singing, and before October he leaves 
 for the south, where, silent and shy, he hides in the 
 woods till April comes again. 
 
 Mr. Samuels says: " The thrushes are the birds that 
 rid the soil of noxious insects that are not preyed 
 upon by other birds." 
 
 Warblers capture insects in the foliage of trees; 
 flycatchers, those that are flying about; swallows,' 
 those which have escaped all these; woodpeckers, 
 those in the larval state in the wood; wrens, nut- 
 hatches, titmice, and creepers eat the eggs on anu 
 under the bark, but the thrushes subsist on those 
 which destroy the vegetation on the surface of the 
 earth. 
 
 I 
 
 .U 
 
■w- 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 THE BROWN THRUSH. 
 
 T 
 
 HIS is the "merry brown thrush" of the poem, 
 whose message to children was that the world 
 
 Bxa. 43. — Brown Thrasher. 
 
 would n't continue to "run over with joy" unless they 
 were as good as could be. 
 
 Its more common name, Brown Thrasher, comes 
 from its wren-like habit of thrashing its tail. 
 
 While it looks like the Thrushes, it acts like the 
 wrens, and it is contended that it is not really a Thrush 
 at all. 
 
 Very good and pleasant things are said of its 
 dashing, exultant song. It is more distinct than 
 most bird songs, and there are many different ways 
 
THE BROWN THRUSH. 
 
 185 
 
 of rendering it into our kind of language. Thoreau 
 tells us that the farmers who hear it first in planting 
 time agree in making it say, " Drop it, drop it, cover 
 it up, cover it up, pull it up, pull it up." The ringing 
 notes can be heard quite a third of a mile away. 
 
 This picture only shows its general appearance. If 
 you compare it with the Robin, you will see that the 
 wings are shorter, and the tail longer in proportion. 
 
 In color it has rust red,, but it is on the back, 
 rather than the breast, which latter is white, with 
 black spots shaped like arrowheads, all pointed for- 
 ward. The two white oands across the wings also 
 help to distinguish .t. 
 
 It builds its nest either on the ground or in some 
 high bush, and its eggs are speckled with reddish 
 brown ; but when it intends to sing, it is apt to fly to 
 the topmost twig of a high tree, like another bird we 
 have met in our Bird- World journey. 
 
 ! 
 
 i 
 
 
HAWKS. 
 
 I WAS once watching a flock of sparrows feeding 
 and singing, flying after each other or up to the 
 fence posts, when suddenly the singing stopped, and 
 
 not a bird stirred a 
 feather. I 1 oked up, 
 and in the ^<y I saw 
 a small hawk soaring 
 and flapping; till he 
 was out of sight, you 
 would have believed 
 the field was empty; 
 then the singing and 
 fluttering began again. 
 Often the little hawk 
 comes up so silently 
 that he sees the birds 
 before they have a 
 chance to " play 'pos- 
 sum." Then a chase 
 begins, the little birds trying to reach bushes where 
 they can slip into a tangle, the hawk trying to strike 
 or seize them with his curved toes, — talons they are 
 called. 
 
 Pu;. 44. — Cooper's Hawk. 
 
HAWKS. 187 
 
 Stories are told of small birds taking refuge with 
 men, and of hawks so bold that they have pursued 
 their prey into a barn or even an open window. 
 
 ^^W^?^^'^ 
 
 \|^>^-^ 
 
 Fig. 45. — Head of Hawk. 
 
 The fate which awaits a bird whom the hawk 
 overtakes is terrible enough to explain the silent 
 fright which a hawk's appearance produces. In a 
 
 Fig. 46. — Foot of Hawk. 
 
 crowded city street I saw a hawk catch a sparrow 
 and carry him screaming with pain and terror to the 
 limb of an elm. The poor little fe^'ow was dead, the 
 sharp claws having pierced his breast. The hawk 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 

 I.S8 
 
 'iJA'/) WORLD. 
 
 now bent over, holding ..ic sparrow to the limb, and 
 tore the feathers out, plucking them as we pluck a 
 chicken. Then he took mouthfuls of the flesh with 
 his sharp, curved bill. 
 
 An o\Vl would have swallowed the sparrow, feath- 
 ers, bones, and all, and afterwards thrown out a ball 
 of feathers and bones. So that when you find the 
 feathers of a bird in the woods, you can lay the blame 
 on the Hawk, Cat, or Fox, but not on the Owl. 
 
 To seize a bird which can also fly needs swiftness 
 and boldness ; so that the hawks which live on other 
 birds have long wings and a daring spirit. Some of 
 the fiercest are very small, while some of the large 
 hawks rarely catch birds, but live on caterpillars, 
 moths, frogs, and mice. 
 
 When a farmer misses his chickens one after 
 another and, getting angry, finally takes down his 
 gun, he may shoot a friend instead of an enemy. 
 The bird shown in l^g. 44 and a cousin of his, called 
 the Sharp-shinned Hawk, are the real offenders ; anc' 
 the large hawk, called the Hen Hawk, is innocent. 
 
 You know that when a man is tried in court for 
 some wrongdoing, we are careful to give him a 
 chance to defend himself, and we never call him 
 guilty till we have proof. The hawks cannot come 
 to us to defend themselves, so that we ought to be 
 very careful to get proof before we condemn them to 
 
Itii 
 
 i « 
 
 r 
 
 life 
 
 I 
 
HA IV AS. 
 
 189 
 
 death. We ought to be especially careful if, by kill- 
 ing the wrong hawk, we should destroy a friend who 
 protects our crops from mice and hurtful insects. 
 
 Hawks were much used in former times to hunt 
 with. They were carefully trained, as dogs are now, 
 and taught to fly after any large birds whom the 
 hunters wanted to kill, and to come back at the sound 
 of a whistle. " To hunt with hawk and hound " is a 
 phrase often found in old writers. Ladies often had 
 their favorite hawks, and carried them on their wrists. 
 That such a savage bird could be tamed is surprising, 
 but falconry seems a cruel sport which I am glad 
 is no longer fashionable. 
 
 \ 
 
lil 
 
 u i- 
 
 BIRD LANGUAGE. 
 
 BIRDS have not as much to say Uj '. ich other as 
 men have. A bird's voice is used rather more 
 as we use a bell, to give important warnings and 
 announcements. The fire bell warns people of dan- 
 ger to property. The doorbell rings when some one 
 wishes to see a friend. The dinner-bell calls us to 
 our food. 
 
 The parts of our speech that are most like the 
 birds' ordinary language are what we call exclama- 
 tions, — Look out! Hallo! Stop! Ho! As soon as 
 you begin to make sentences, you are telling each 
 other thoughts which are too difficult for birds to 
 understand. 
 
 The common sounds which birds make can there- 
 fore be divided into two or three classes. They are 
 generally called call notes, alarm notes, and recog- 
 nition notes. The cock gives a call note when he 
 has found something to eat ; when the hens hear it, 
 they run to the spot. Alarm notes are given by the 
 hen when she wishes her chickens to hide under her 
 wing, or by any bird when he is suddenly startled. 
 
 Recognition notes are used very largely by birds 
 who travel in companies, and are given and answered 
 
BIRD J. A NG CAGE. 
 
 191 
 
 constantly, so that the different members of the 
 band may keep together. The Bobolink has a call 
 note unlike that of any other American bird, a rich 
 chink, which is often heard from the sky in the clear 
 autumn nights. Who knows what the Bobolink is 
 doing up there in the darkness instead of sleeping in 
 the long grass ? 
 
 The call notes are often used by the birds on vari- 
 ous other occasions ; the bird has so few words that 
 he must make them do for several purposes. If a 
 bird \^ excited, even if he is not actually afraid, he 
 often gives his alarm note, and if he is pleased he 
 gives his call note, without meaning to call his friends. 
 A hen has a peculiar drawling note which she uses 
 when she feels hapoy, and, by changing it a little, she 
 expresses the unhappiness she feels in wet or unpleas- 
 ant weather. A mother bird has often many little 
 low and gentle notes which she uses to her young in 
 the nest, and often this same baby talk is used by the 
 parents to each other. Lastly, the young have notes 
 of their own which generally mean, "Come! come! 
 I am so hungry." 
 
 If birds had no other notes than these which I have 
 mentioned, many which are now famous the world 
 over, and beloved by nearly all people, would be 
 almost unknown. 
 
 There is a bird in Europe whose call note is very 
 
 I- 
 
 *? 
 
 •4-^- 
 
 ..^^ 
 
192 
 
 BIRD V ORLD. 
 
 unpleasant and his plumage very plain ; he is shy and 
 has no amusing or pleasing ways, and yet poets in all 
 countries have sung about hi- and people have 
 traveled long distances to hear him sing. 
 
 The song of the Nightingale or of any of the great 
 song birds is the greatest blessing which birds have 
 for men. If there were no singing birds, the woods 
 and fields in spring would seem silent and dreary. 
 The song delights men, not only because it is a cheer- 
 ful or beautiful sound, but because the bird is saying 
 something when he sings which men say too, — the 
 best thing that they ever say. 
 
 The Nightingale, when singing, is trying to express 
 the great love he feels for his mate, and for the little 
 children which he has or hopes to have. First he 
 calls her to him with a song. He sings loudly so that 
 she can hear him wherever she is, and can come to 
 him. Then, when they have chosen the place for 
 their nest, and she is sitting patiently, day after day, 
 on the eggs she has laid, he sings to her to encourage 
 her to sit still, so that the eggs which are so precious 
 to both of them may hatch, and the little birds, more 
 precious even than the eggs, may be born. 
 
 If the nest is destroyed, there is nothing left to sing 
 for, unless the birds should have courage enough to 
 build another nest, and then the song begins again. 
 
 \.,Ma 
 

 ! i 
 
 THE WOOD THRUSH. 
 
 mm 
 
WmiA 
 
 
 •jiSEm 
 
 m 
 
 -*■:>■■ -i 
 
 f^ 
 
 ^' 
 
 t 
 
Sm^M^. 
 
 SOME STRANGE BIRD MUSIC. 
 
 "THE music which the Chinese make, or the noise 
 which they call music, is not very pleasant to 
 our ears, and the savage races make still more hideous 
 sounds to express their joy. Birds, too, differ very 
 much m the character of the sounds by which thev 
 ^ express their feelings. When the Skylark knovvs that 
 his mate is sitting in her nest in the wheat, and brood- 
 ing the eggs from which his dear young are to hatch 
 he cannot keep on the ground, but r .junts far into the 
 sky, singing and singing, sometimes for ten minutes 
 at a time. People listen and wonder at the beauty of 
 his song. -^ 
 
 There is a large bird, long-legged and an awkward 
 flyer, with a long, sharp bill with which he spears 
 unfortunate frogs. He lives in the marshes, and his 
 brown dress is striped so that when he stands motion- 
 less among the tall grass or cat-tails, you would take 
 him for a stake, or a bunch of the reeds themselves. 
 He IS called the Bittern, or, by the country people, 
 btake-Dnver or Thunder- Pumper. 
 
 The last name describes very well the sound which 
 he makes when his mate is sitting on her damp nest 
 'n the cat-tails. To cheer her and remind her that he 
 
 V 
 
 li 
 
194 
 
 BIRD WORLD. 
 
 ndertaking for the 
 
 is near and will protect her, he makes sounds which 
 resemble the syllables unk-a-clmnk, made way down in 
 one's throat, and these sounds he urters so loud that 
 they can be easily heard half a mile away. 
 
 It seems to be a considerable 
 Bittern to say all this. He first seems to fill his 
 breast with air, and then to force it out with violent 
 convulsions. 
 
 The notes sound as if they came through water, 
 and in the old days, before people learned to watch 
 closely, it was commonly believed that the Bittern 
 put his bill into a hollow reed, or that he stuck his 
 bill into the mud and water. 
 
 The woodpeckers express their feelings in a very 
 characteristic way. The bill which w^e have seen 
 them use for a chisel now becomes a drumstick, and 
 beats on some dry limb a tattoo which can be heard 
 far through the forest. The Flicker, who, you remem- 
 ber, has become more civilized than many of his 
 family, has a fancy for a finer kind of a drum ; he 
 sometimes beats a tin roof or tin pan, often returning 
 to the same spot day after day. 
 
 All these strange sounds made by the woodpeckers 
 and the Bittern express to their mates the same feel- 
 ings which the Skylark puts into beautiful song. 
 
BIRD BILLS. 
 
 r\N the two following pages are the heads of several 
 ^^ different birds. — birds not only of different 
 kinds, but of different families and of very different 
 ways of life. Some of them belong to families about 
 which you have already read. You can find a back- 
 woodsman among them with his chisel, and a Grouse 
 with his all-round bill, useful for crushing grain, gather- 
 ing fruit, or seizing insects. The Flamingo and Duck 
 both strain water through their bills, but the Flamingo 
 turns his upside down so that you could almost say 
 that he stood on his head to eat. Some of the other 
 birds have bills of very strange shape. The gypsy 
 Crossbill has a pair of scissors with which he cuts 
 pine seeds, and the Humming Bird has a tube that 
 enters the deepest floweis. Look through your book 
 for birds of other families. Herons, Owls, Hawks, and 
 Gulls; compare their bills with these, and with each 
 other, and try to find out how each bird is helped by 
 the particular shape of his bill. 
 
 lip 
 •i 11 
 
Kider Duck. 
 
 Grnuse. 
 
 I' lainingo. 
 
 fUi. 47. --Bird Uill> 
 ii/) 
 
Nuthatch. 
 
 Hairy Woodpecker. 
 
 Humming Bird. 
 
 Cliiinni'v ."^wift. 
 
 Red-winged blackbird. 
 
 Crossbill. 
 
 Cardinal. 
 
 Fra. 48. — Bird Bills. 
 
 IHi 
 
 "97 
 
11)11 
 
 i 
 
 .i 
 
 t 
 
 $ 
 
 I 
 
 S'' '' 
 
 HI 
 
 II 
 
 1 * 
 
x^'UitL -»■ i 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 -- ,1 
 
 you mil find on following pages some keys, as they are called, 
 which are to help you unlock some of the secrets of Hird 
 Word, and particularly to ..elp you learn the names c 5 any strange 
 b ds which you may meet. Be sure to remember that you may 
 often, even wuh their help, make mistakes, and keep a sharp watch 
 of any b,rd wh.ch you think you have identified, to see whether 
 Its actions, voice, or habits may strengthen or weaken your cor.rt- 
 dence that you are right. 
 
 Your eyes need be very sharp to work with the keys. Thev 
 will ask you whether the bird had a rounded tail or a square one' 
 whether the bill was long or short or stout or slender'what the 
 colors were and where they were. 
 
 Perhaps it will help you to observe a living bird accurately, if 
 the\ook' ^l/^'^-'y- y- can the bird pictures on the pageLf 
 he book Their colors, it is true, are not given except in a few 
 cases, but you can see that the tail feathers of some have " thumb- 
 marks of some light color, that there are bars across the wings 
 of others, and that these bars are formed sometimes of solid color 
 sometimes by rows of spots. Examine the tails to see whether thJ 
 outer or inner feathers are the longer ; you will see that some tail 
 feathers are sharp and probably rtout. The bills will show many 
 points of difference, and tell much about the birds' feeding habits. 
 
 resSnTof V:^^^^:>,lr^!J^'^^^'^^ ^^^ —onest summer 
 one or two other birds whose genera, ^PpJL:'i;:;J';::^^;;t::;-^ 
 
^^ 
 
 2O0 
 
 .iJ'rENDJX. 
 
 I)ucn otiiittetl in oilier to ^iiiiplifv tlic key as nnali a;* |K)HsiI)lt;. It is not 
 fxpi.ctfd that younj{ chililttn will lif ahlf tu u^sf the key without assistunie, 
 and it is hoped that in any case it will ser\' nieiely as an inicntive to further 
 .itid closer ohservatioii of the living l)iril.J 
 
 BIRDS GROUPED BY A COLOR STANDARD. 
 
 litKDS SlIoWINi. MUCH UkOWN. 
 
 A. I'pper parts plain brown; under parts white, or white with 
 
 streaks or spots. 
 /)'. I'pper parts streaked ; under parts li;;hl, or lighter colored. 
 ( ■. I'lwn-colort'd. 
 1>. lirownish-olive. 
 
 A. (i) Not streaked or spotted below. 
 
 a. Longer than a Robin. Cuckoo. 
 
 /'. .Small bird with ^hort tail. House Wren. 
 A. (2) Spotted (jr marked beiow. 
 
 a. Tail virv louii. Brown Thrasher. 
 
 b. Head browner than back and tail ; entire 
 
 under parts heavily marked. Wood 
 Thrush. 
 
 c. Head, back, and tail tawny; breast lightly 
 
 spotted. Wilson's I'hrush. Veery. 
 />'. (i) Bird larger than a Robin. 
 
 a. Tail feathers white : breast yellow with a 
 
 black crescent. Lives in grassy fields. 
 Meadow Lark. 
 
 b. Rump white ; flight undulating. Generally 
 
 lights on the side of a large limb or tree 
 trunk. Flicker. 
 -. Rarelv seen before dusk. Whip-poor-will. 
 
■4> 
 
 A/'/'EADJX. 
 
 20 1 
 
 lot 
 
 ler 
 
 th 
 
 ire 
 )d 
 
 tly 
 
 is. 
 
 lly 
 ee 
 
 a. 
 
 b. 
 
 B. (2) Small birds with the sparrow bill. 
 Breast streaked. 
 
 Flight nervous, jerky. Common every- 
 where. Song bright and cheerful. Song 
 Sparrow. 
 Tail shorter than in a ; a line over each 
 eye and through the crown. Lives in 
 grassy fields. Song weak. Savanna 
 Sparrow. (See also Gray Birds.) 
 Breast not streaked. 
 
 a. Tail long, notched ; breast ashy gray. 
 Crown chestnut ; black line through eye. 
 Common about dooryards ; not at all shy. 
 Chipping Sparrow. 
 
 b. Throat whitish ; breast grayish ; crown 
 and wings chestnut in spring. Lives in 
 swampy places ; rather shy. Swamp 
 Sparrow. 
 
 c. Bill light-colored ; breast buffy-white. Lives 
 in bushy pastures. Field Sparrow. 
 
 Bill stout ; throat (in male) black ; wing bars 
 white ; sides of head chestnut. (Female 
 brown above, dirty white below.) Com- 
 mon in city and village streets. English 
 Sparrow. • 
 
 C. Fawn-colored. Black line through the eye ; tail tipped 
 
 with yellow. Often shows a crest. Cedar Bird. 
 
 D. Brownish-olive. Under parts white, streaked with black. 
 
 Walks. Common in woodland. Ovtnbird. 
 
 d. 
 
 \i 
 
 i i 
 
 J^ 
 
"' 
 
 202 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 BIRDS MOSTLY GRAY. 
 
 A. Olive-gray. Rarely, if ever, seen on the ground. 
 
 B. Brownish-gray. Back streaked. 
 
 C. Slate-gray. 
 
 A. (i) Birds that sit on exposed perches ; tail held directly 
 beneath the bird. 
 
 a. No conspicuous wing-bars. Bird jerks the tail 
 
 after alighting. Note, phoe-be. Phoebe. 
 
 b. Two white wing-bars ; tail not jerked. Note, 
 
 pefee-wee. Wood Peewee. 
 
 c. Resembles ^, but smaller. Note, a sharp 
 
 che-bec, snapped out with a jerk of the 
 head. Chebec , or Least Flycatcher, 
 
 A. (2) Birds that hunt in the branches of trees. Tail quite 
 
 short. 
 
 a. White line over eye. Song made up of 
 
 brolcen phrases. Red-eyed Vireo. 
 
 b. No white line. Song a slow, continuous 
 
 warble. Warbling Vireo. (Cf. p. 199 
 B (2), a) 
 
 B. A sparrow, seen on the ground or at the edges of fields. 
 
 a. Breast streaked ; tail shows two white outer 
 feathers. Song strong and sweet. Ves- 
 per sparrow. 
 
 C. a. Found in bushy places about houses. Cap 
 
 and tail black. Catbird. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 203 
 
 B. 
 
 BLACK AND WHITE BIRDS. 
 
 Upper parts black, streaked or spotted with white. 
 
 a. Larger than an English Sparrow. Bill stout ; 
 back white; wings spotted with white. 
 Male has a red patch on the back of 
 head. Found in winter also. Downy 
 Woodpecker. 
 
 b. Smaller than an English Sparrow. Bill 
 slender; entire bird striped with black 
 and white. Black and White Creeper. 
 
 Whole head, crown, cheeks, and throat black. Large 
 birds. 
 
 Rose color on the breast. Wings and back 
 
 showing white. Rose-breasted Grosbeak. 
 
 Sides of breast chestnut. Tail showing 
 
 large, white spots. Common in clearings. 
 
 Chewink or Towhee Bunting. 
 
 C. Head not wholly black. Breast and belly white. 
 
 a. Larger than sparrow. Entire under parts 
 
 white ; tail tipped with white. Kingbird. 
 
 b. Smaller than sparrow. Throat and cap 
 
 black. Feeds among branches, to which 
 it clings. Chickadee. 
 
 ^. Whole under parts black. Lives in grassy fields. Bobo- 
 link. 
 
 a. 
 
 b. 
 
»04 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 BIRDS SHOWING CONSIDERABLE YELLOW OR ORANGE. 
 
 .'/. Birds showing black and yellow, or black and orange. 
 
 B. Birds showing yellow but no black. 
 
 C. Top of head yellow. 
 
 A. (i) Orange and blacc. (Females without orange.) 
 
 a. Larger than sparrow. Bill long, back yellow, 
 
 breast orange. Note, a loud whistle. Oriole. 
 
 b. Smaller than sparrow. Mostly black, show- 
 
 ing patches of orange at the shoulders, 
 and yellow in the outspread tail. Redstart. 
 
 A. (2) Yellow and black. Birds all smaller than sparrow. 
 
 a. Mostly light yellow. Forehead, wings, and 
 
 tail black. Goldfinch. (Female wi«^'^out 
 black.) 
 
 b. Throat yellow. Black band through the eye. 
 
 Hides in bushes near water. (Female 
 without black.) Maryland Yellow-throat. 
 
 c. Throat black ; sides of head yellow. Lives 
 
 in evergreens. Black-throated Green War- 
 bler. 
 
 B. {i) Entire bird yellow ; wings and ta'^ duller. Song, 
 
 bright, lively. Summer Yellowbird. 
 
 B. (2) : ' roat yellow. 
 
 a. Common in street trees. Song made up of 
 
 loud, rich phrases. Yellow-throated Vireo. 
 
 b. Common in pines. Song, a slow trill. Pine 
 
 Warbler. 
 C ( I ) Under parts white ; a narrow strip of chestnut along 
 the sides. 
 Chestnut-sided Warbler. 
 
 Found in clearings and roadside bushes. 
 
API'ENDJX. 
 
 205 
 
 HALF THE BIRD OR MORE SOME SHADE OF RED, 
 
 (For birds showing patches of red or orange, see Black, and 
 Black and Orange.) 
 
 A. Head rose red. Back and tail brownish. Purple Finch. 
 
 B, Entire bird scarlet, except black wings and tail. Scarlet 
 
 Tanager. 
 C Breast bay ; head black ; wings and tail brown. liobin. 
 
 //. 
 
 BIRDS CHIEFLY BLACK. 
 
 Seen chiefly on the ground. 
 
 a. Larger than a pigeon. Note caw. Crow. 
 
 b. Larger than a robin. Bill and tail long. 
 
 Head and back glossy, with purple or 
 bronze reflections. Crow Blackbird or 
 Purple Crackle. 
 
 c. A little smaller than a robin. Male has 
 
 scarlet epaulets. Bill long, sharp. (Fe- 
 male blackish-brown, streaked.) Red- 
 winged Blackbird. 
 
 d. Smaller than c. Head rich brown. Walks 
 
 on the ground, often near cattle. (Female 
 dull brown.) Cowbird. 
 Seen always in the air. 
 
 a. Wings long, curved; tail short, cigar--haped. 
 Chimney Swift. 
 
206 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 BLUE OR BLUE-GRAY BIRDS. 
 
 A. Larger than a Robin. 
 
 a. Wings and tail marked with black and white ; 
 
 coliu- black. Seen in trees. Blue Jay. 
 
 b. No black ; collar white. Seen flying over 
 
 water or near it. Kingfisher. 
 
 B. Smaller than a Robin. 
 
 a. Entirely blue, except brown wings and tail. 
 
 Bird the size of a sparrow; seen on the 
 tops of trees or in thickets. (Female 
 brown.) Indigo Bird. 
 
 b. Breast chestnut. Larger than a sparrow. 
 
 Seen in orchards or near country houses. 
 Bluebird. 
 
 c. Blue-gray ; under parts white ; tail short. 
 
 Seen on the trunks or large limbs of 
 trees, often with head downward. Nut- 
 hatch. 
 
 ■J\ 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 207 
 
 COMMON SUMMER 
 
 FOUND NEAR HOUSES, IN 
 
 Robin, 
 
 Cuckoo. 
 
 Chebec. 
 
 Kingbird. 
 
 Catbird. 
 
 Goldfinch. 
 
 Cedar Bird. 
 
 Wood Thrush.* 
 
 Screech Owl. 
 
 Red-eyed Vireo.* 
 
 Yellow-throated Vireo. 
 
 House Sparrow. 
 
 Song Sparrow. 
 
 Barn Swallow. 
 
 Redstart. 
 
 Crow Blackbird. 
 
 Chimney Swift. 
 
 IN GROVES. 
 
 Sparrow Hawk. 
 
 BIRDS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 ORCHARDS, OR ALONG STREETS. 
 
 Oriole. 
 
 Phcebe. 
 
 Flicker. 
 
 Cowbird. 
 
 Bluebird. 
 
 Purple Finch. 
 
 Chickadee.* 
 
 House Wren. 
 
 Humming Bird. 
 
 Warbling Vireo. 
 
 Yellow Warbler. 
 
 Chipping Sparrow. 
 
 Cliff Swallow. 
 
 White-bellied Swallow. 
 
 Rose-breasted Grosbeak. 
 
 Downy Woodpecker. 
 
 IN OPEN WOODS. 
 
 Mourning Dove. 
 
 L-row. 
 
 Ovenbird. 
 
 Nuthatch. 
 
 Barred Owl. 
 
 Scarlet Tanager. 
 
 Sharp-shinned Hawk. 
 
 Black-throated Green Warbler 
 
 FOUND IN WOODS. 
 
 Grouse. 
 
 Blue Jay. 
 
 Wood Pewee. 
 
 Pine Warbler. 
 
 Whip-poor-will. 
 
 Black and White Creeper. 
 
 ♦ Found also ir wood's. 
 
 PiiP 
 
208 
 
 Bobolink. 
 Bay-winged Bunting. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 FOUND IN MEADOWS. 
 
 Meadowlark. 
 Savanna Sparrow. 
 
 FOUND IN BUSHV PASTURES. 
 
 Chewink. 
 Brown Thrasher. 
 Night Hawk. 
 Chestnut-sided Warbler. 
 
 Quail. 
 
 Indigo Bird. 
 Field Sparrow. 
 
 FOUND IN SWAMPY PI.ACKS. 
 
 Veery. 
 Wood Duck. 
 Marsh Hawk. 
 Red-winged Blackbird. 
 
 Bittern. 
 Green Heron. 
 Swamp Sparrow. 
 Maryland Yellow-throat. 
 
 Kingfisher. 
 Spotted Sandpiper, 
 
 FOUND ON RIVER OR LAKE SHORES. 
 
 Bank Swallow. 
 
 FOUND SOUTH AND WEST OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 Cardinal Grosbeak. 
 Carolina Wren. 
 
 Red-headed Woodpecker. 
 Turkey Buzzard. 
 
 'luli 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 COMMON WINTER BIRDS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 209 
 
 Grouse. 
 
 Kinglet. 
 
 Chickadee. 
 
 Screech Owl. 
 
 Go'.dfinch. 
 
 Tree Sparrow. 
 
 Red-shouldered Hawk. 
 
 Crow. 
 Blue Jay. 
 Nuthatch. 
 Butcher Bird. 
 Purple Finch. 
 Brown Creeper, 
 Downy Woodpecker. 
 
 IN SOUTHERN NEW ENGLAND, ESPECULLV NEAR THE SEA. 
 
 Robin. Flicker, 
 
 S"°*bird. Song Sparrow. 
 
 Meadow Lark. 
 
 Redpoll. 
 Snowflake, 
 Red Crossbill, 
 
 OCCASIO^AL WINTER VISITORS, 
 
 Cedar Bird. 
 Snowy Owl. 
 Pine Grosbeak. 
 
 It 
 
 m 
 
 \ 
 
2IO 
 
 A/TEND/X. 
 
 BIRDS IN WHICH THK I'WO SEXKS ARE ALIKE. 
 
 Gull. 
 
 Blue Jay. 
 
 Screech Owl. 
 
 Heron. 
 
 Song Sparrow. 
 
 Kingbird. 
 
 Crow. 
 
 Chipping Sparrow. 
 
 Meadow Lark. 
 
 Phcbbe. 
 
 Bank Swallow 
 
 Red-eyed Vireo. 
 
 Cuckoo. 
 
 Ovenbird. 
 
 Brown Thrasher 
 
 Catbird. 
 
 House Wren. 
 
 Nuthatch. 
 
 Swift. 
 
 Chickadee. 
 
 Brown Creeper. 
 
 Grouse. 
 
 Cedar Bird. 
 
 Wood Thrush. 
 
 Sandpiper. 
 
 
 
 BIRDS IN WHICH THE TWO SEXES ARE MARKEDLY UNLIKE. 
 
 Oriole. 
 Chewink. 
 Cowbird. 
 Tanager. 
 Purple Finch. 
 
 Bobolink. 
 Bluebird. 
 Goldfinch. 
 Indigo Bird. 
 Redstart. 
 
 Humming Bird. 
 Barn Swallow. 
 Red-winged Blackbird. 
 R ;se-breasted Grosbeak. 
 
 BIRDS IN WHICH THE TWO SEXES ARE SIMILAR, BUT 
 DISTINGUISHABLE. 
 
 Quail. 
 Hawks. 
 Yellow Warbler. 
 
 Flicker. 
 Kingfisher. 
 
 Crow Blackbird. 
 Downy Woodpecker. 
 
 SOME BRILLIANT MALES WHO CHANGE INTO PLAIN CLOTHES 
 
 IN THE FALL. 
 
 Bobolink. Goldfinch. Tanager. Indigo Bird. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 211 
 
 BIRDS ACCUSED OF DOING HARM IN FARM OR GARDEN. 
 
 These birds are still on trial. Perhaps you can form an 
 
 opinion about some of them from what you have read. 
 Large Hawks. Bobolink. 
 
 Screech Owl. Catbird. 
 
 Sapsucker. Cedar Bird. 
 
 Kingbird. Butcher Bird. 
 
 J*y- Crow Blackbird. 
 
 ^'■°*- Red-winged Blackbird, 
 
 ^o^'"- English Sparrow. 
 
 BIRDS UNDOUBTEDLY INJURIOUS. 
 
 Cooper's Hawk. Sharp-shinned Hawk. 
 
 BIRDS UNIVERSALLY CONSIDERED BENEFICIAL TO MAN. 
 
 Name of Bird. 
 
 Phoebe. 
 
 Oriole. 
 
 Cuckoo. 
 
 Kinglet. 
 
 Chickadee. 
 
 Brown Creeper. 
 
 Flicker. 
 
 Bluebird. 
 
 Nuthatch. 
 
 Swallows. 
 
 Warblers. 
 
 Red-eyed Vireo. 
 
 Meadow Lark. 
 
 Chipping Sparrow. 
 
 Rose-breasted Grosbeak 
 
 Downy Woodpecker. 
 
 Enemy Destroyed. 
 
 Gnats. 
 
 Beetles. 
 
 Tent Caterpillars. 
 
 Insects' Eggs. 
 
 Insects' Eggs. 
 
 Insects' Eggs. 
 
 Ants. 
 
 Grubs. 
 
 Grubs. 
 
 Flies. 
 
 Caterpillars. 
 
 Caterpillars. 
 
 Grasshoppers. 
 
 Currant Worms. 
 
 Potato Bugs. 
 
 Borers. 
 
IN DHX. 
 
 Albatross, 145-149, 177. 
 Audubon, 98. 
 
 Bills, 27, 28, 41, 79, 100. 102, 195-197. 
 
 Bird Language, 190-192. 
 
 Bird Music, 193, 194. 
 
 Bittern, 193, 194. 
 
 Bluebird, 15-17, 168. 
 
 Blue Jay, 56, 57, 164. 
 
 Bobolink, 1 17-120. 
 
 Bob White, 95-97- 
 
 Brown Creeper, 26, 27. 
 
 Brown Thrush, 184, 185. 
 
 Burrowing Owl, 35, 80. 
 
 Cardinal, 197. 
 
 Caro'ii.d Wren, 135. 
 
 Catbird, 75-78. 
 
 Cedar Bird, 37-39. «S7- 
 
 Cherry Bird, 38. 
 
 Chickadee, 26, 27, 32, 141, 163. 
 
 Chimney Swift, 93, 94, 173, rg7. 
 
 Chipping Sparrow, 52, 53, 60. 
 
 Cowbird, 14, 123-125. 
 
 Crossbill, 121, 122, 197. 
 
 Crow, 101. 
 
 Diagram of bird, 17. 
 
 Dove, 177. 
 
 Downy Woodpecker, 26, 41-43, 45. 
 
 Duck's Bill, 196. 
 
 Duck's Foot, 91. 
 
 Kagle, 140. 
 
 •'•ggs. SQ-'Jz- 
 
 Knemies, Birds', 162-168. 
 
 Knglish Sparrow, 24, 25, 50 
 
 Families, 1 69-171. 
 Feathers, 103-105, 172-178. 
 Fish Hawk, 80, 92, 140. 
 Flamingo, 195, 196. 
 Flicker, 44-46,93, 175. 
 Flight, 178, 179. 
 Food, 26-28, I0O-I02. 
 
 Golden-winged Woodpecker, 44. 
 
 Goldfinch, i, 2. 
 
 Grebe, 12S, 129. 
 
 Grouse, 21-23,93, 145-147. »74. '96- 
 
 Gull Dick, 29, 30. 
 
 Gypsy Birds, 121, 122. 
 
 Hawks, 186-189. 
 
 Heron, 180. 
 
 House Wren, 68-72. 
 
 Humming Bird, 105, 151-154. 
 
 Indigo Bird, 19, 20. 
 
 Islands, 142, 143. 
 
 Ivo'- hilled Woodpecker, 46. 
 
 Junco, 137. 
 
 Kingbird, 63-661 
 Kinglet, 26. 
 
IXDKX. 
 
 .21 
 
 Marsh Wren, 71, 72. 
 Migration, 18, 98, 115, 131-134, 
 
 Nest of 
 
 Bobolink, 130. 
 
 Chipping Sparrow, 52. 
 
 Eave Swallow, 80. 
 
 (ioldfinch, 2. 
 
 Humming Bird, 82, 154. 
 
 Kingbird, 65. 
 
 Oriole, 81. 
 
 Osprey, 80. 
 
 Phcebe, 4. 
 
 Robin, 8. 
 
 Song Sparrow, 52. 
 
 Tailor Bird, 83. 
 
 Woodpecker, 42. 
 
 Wren, 68, 70, 72. 
 
 Yellowbird, 14. 
 
 Yellow-throated Vireo, 106. 
 Nests, S9-6i, 79-83, 166, 167. 
 Night in Bird World, 54, 55. 
 Nuthatch, 26, 197. 
 
 Oriole, 11, 12, 81, 82. 
 Osprey, 79, 80, 140. 
 Ostrich, 92, 127, 178. 
 Ovenbird, 23, 146, 147, 155. 
 Owls, 31-35. 
 
 Burrowing, 35. 
 
 Screech, 34. 
 
 Snowy, 35. 
 
 Passports, Bird, 11 3-1 16. 
 Petition, Song Birds', 158-161. 
 Phoebe, 3-5, 98. 
 
 Quail, 95-97. 
 
 Redstart, 112, 124, 125, 150. 
 146. Red-winged Blackbird, 89, 90, 197. 
 Robin, 6-10, 164. 
 Robin " roosts," 9. 
 Rose-breasted Grosbeak, 1 54. 
 Ruff, 126, 127. 
 
 Sapsucker, 47, 48. 
 Scarlet Tanager, 36. 
 Screech Owl, 34. 
 Snowbird, 176. 
 Snowy Egret, 180-182. 
 Snowy Owl, 35. 
 SoTig Sparrow, 51, 52, 82, 92. 
 Sparrows, 24, 49-53, 175. 
 
 Chipping, 52, 53, 60. 
 
 English, 24, 25, 50. ■ 
 
 Song, 51, 52. 
 
 Tree, 27, 135-137. 
 Summer Warbler, 13, 14. 
 Summer Yellowbird, 13, 14. 
 Swallows, 68, 84-88. 
 
 Bam, 86-88, 99, 174, 177. 
 
 Eave, 80. 
 
 White-bellied, 68. 
 
 Taiior Bird, 83. 
 Thistlebird, i. 
 Toes, 91-94. 
 Tongue of 
 
 Humming Bird, 102. 
 
 Woodpecker, 43, 102. 
 Toucan, 28. 
 Tree Sparrow, 27, 135, 137. 
 
 Vireos, 124. 
 
 Red-eyed, 106. 
 Yellow-throated, 106-112. 
 
.V-. 
 
 ^ 
 
 214 
 
 JNDEX. 
 
 Warblers, 67. 
 
 WinRs, 49' 9' • '03> •7<J. 
 
 W inter. Hircl World in. ij IJQ 
 
 Wo.jd Duck, \y 
 
 Woodpeckers, 40-48, 194, 197. 
 
 Uowny, 26, 41-43. 45. 
 
 Flicker, 44-46. 
 
 f i>>Iden-winKe»l, 44. 
 
 Ivory billed, 4^' 
 
 Kttlheaded, W.. 
 
 W<i<idpecker <ntinued. 
 Yellow bellied, 47, 4S. 
 Wood Thrush. 183. 
 
 Y« iov scllitrd Woodpecker, 47. 
 \ ellow-throateii Vireo, \ (>-\\2. 
 Ydk'W-winged Woodpei <er, 47, 4S. 
 Youiig 111 lis, 61 
 
 ow ted. 46, fJO-