V .V 
 
 * 
 
 STOR1ES 
 
 ELIZABETH AND JOSEPH GRINME3J. 
 
 N 
 

 LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 Class 
 
LINNETS IN PEACH TREE 
 
WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. VOL. IX 
 
 STORIES OF 
 
 OUR WESTERN BIRDS 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIZABETH AND JOSEPH GRINNELL 
 
 AUTHORS OF "OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS," " BIRDS OF SONG AND STORY," ETC. 
 
 W. K. FISHER 
 
 OF STANFORD UNIVERSITY 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO 
 THE WHITAKER AND RAY COMPANY 
 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 1903 
 
< ^ 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY 
 THE WHITAKER AND RAY COMPANY 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IT is a matter of common notice that bird-life offers the most 
 attractive outdoor object of interest to the average schoolboy. 
 The almost human personality of birds, their varied form and 
 color, their ceaseless activity, their evasiveness, all conspire 
 to arouse an intense curiosity. And why should we not en- 
 courage this curiosity? If properly directed, it is certainly a 
 valuable and ready incentive, to be seized upon and harnessed 
 into the process of education. The keenness and accuracy of 
 observation cultivated by the overcoming of that very elusive- 
 ness so characteristic of birds, will remain long after the bird 
 itself is forgotten. It is a significant fact that many of our 
 greatest scientists and professional men admit their earliest 
 active interest to have been in bird-study, to which stage in 
 their mental development we may attribute a good part of that 
 training so invaluable in their later more serious lines of work. 
 In the following simple descriptives, my mother and I have 
 tried to help arouse and direct interest in bird-study among 
 school-children, as well as, possibly, older folks. It has been 
 our aim to present a fair amount of information, but diluted 
 with enough of the commonplace, so as not to balk the most 
 timid spirit of inquiry. We want the reader to finish each 
 chapter with a wish to find out more things for himself by 
 
 direct observation of the living bird. 
 
 JOSEPH GRINNELL. 
 STANFORD UNIVERSITY, CALIFORNIA, 
 February 9, 1903. 
 
 107590 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE LINNET 7 
 
 THE MOURNING DOVE 15 
 
 THE BLACK PHOEBE V . 21 
 
 WOODPECKERS . . . ' ..- ^ 31 
 
 THE CROW * v . . :': V -^> . ...",',/;.. . . 41 
 
 THE WESTERN ROBIN . . - - ..... . . . 45 
 
 THE SONG-SPARROW . . ... ... . . . . .. . 53 
 
 THE BELTED KINGFISHER . \ .60 
 
 THE CALIFORNIA JAY . . 6 ? 
 
 AUDUBON'S W T ARBLER . ......... .... 75 
 
 THE MOCKING-BIRD . .... . . ... ... . 84 
 
 THE AMERICAN COOT ........ ..... 93 
 
 KILLDEER PLOVER . . . . '. . . . ; ....... 97 
 
 THE WESTERN GULL . . . . .... .,-... . . 103 
 
 DIFFERENT SPARROWS . 109 
 
 THE BANK-SWALLOW 117 
 
 THE CLIFF-SWALLOW . - . ". 121 
 
 THE CEDAR WAXWINO . . '. . . . , .... 125 
 
 THE ROAD-RUNNER . . . . . . . r . . . . . .130 
 
 OUR WESTERN WEENS 134 
 
 THE SHRIKE, OR BUTCHER-BIRD ...... .... 141 
 
 THE BROWN PELICAN ...,,. 147 
 
 THE ARKANSAS GOLDFINCH 153 
 
 THE TOWHEES 159 
 
 THE BURROWING OWL 168 
 
 THE ANNA HUMMING-BIRD 173 
 
 THE BUSH-TIT , . . . 181 
 
 OUR WEST COAST THRUSHES 189 
 
 5 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LINNET'S NEST .. . . . . . 11 
 
 THE MOURNING DOVE 17 
 
 THE BLACK PHCEBE 22 
 
 YOUNG PHCEBE 24 
 
 THE CALIFORNIA WOODPECKER 32 
 
 THE FLICKER 38 
 
 THE WESTERN ROBIN . 46 
 
 SONG-SPARROWS 52 
 
 THE BELTED KINGFISHER 61 
 
 THE CALIFORNIA JAY .68 
 
 AUDUBON'S WARBLER . 74 
 
 YOUNG YELLOW WARBLER 81 
 
 MOCKING-BIRD 85 
 
 YOUNG MOCKING-BIRD 88 
 
 COOT, OR MUD-HEN 94 
 
 KlLLDEERS ..... 98 S 
 
 GULLS WAITING TO BE FED 102 
 
 THE FOX-SPARROW 110 
 
 WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW Ill 
 
 YOUNG CHIPPING SPARROWS .... 113 
 
 THE ROAD-RUNNER 131 
 
 VIGORS WREN 137 
 
 THE SHRIKE, OR BUTCHER-BIRD 142 
 
 THE ARKANSAS GOLDFINCH 152 
 
 THE BROWN OR CALIFORNIA TOWHEE ... .... 162 
 
 YOUNG TOWHEE 165 
 
 THE BURROWING OWL 169 
 
 YOUNG BUSH-TIT 182 
 
 BUSH-TIT'S NEST . , 185 
 
 THE VARIED THRUSH . . 192 
 
 6 
 
. 
 
 THE LINNET. 
 
 HE linnets are our nearest neigh- 
 bors. The only reason why they 
 do not live in the house with us 
 is because they are shut out by 
 
 Jsfjjjjir^^ the screens. We love them. We 
 ^J invite them to stay with us. We plant 
 many things on purpose for them. 
 We feed them at the garden-table. 
 
 But many people do not love them. The pretty 
 birds are persecuted in ways we do not care to 
 describe. They are shot, poisoned, stoned, hated 
 more than any other birds in the Southwest. And 
 for what reason? Why, 
 farmers say they " eat their 
 fruit-buds in the spring, 
 and what fruit there is left 
 in summer-time." 
 
 Well, it 's true that lin- 
 nets do eat some fruit- 
 buds. But the whole truth 
 is, they never take half as 
 many as they ought. It 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 What is adobe ? 
 
 Adobe houses. 
 
 Spanish colonization of 
 California. 
 
 Uses of birds in milli- 
 nery. 
 
 Wanton destruction of 
 birds for millinery 
 trade. 
 
 Herons and aigrettes. 
 
 Fruit-drying industry. 
 
8 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 would be better for the trees and better for the 
 markets if fewer buds were allowed to " set." 
 
 In southern California, this year, many peach 
 orchards have been left to drop their fruit on the 
 ground. There were too many peaches to the 
 tree, and the same with the apricots. The fruit 
 was small. Five dollars a ton, and sometimes 
 three dollars, was the price offered. It did not 
 pay the growers to market the fruit. Had there 
 been only a few dozen peaches or apricots on a 
 tree, these few would have brought good returns. 
 So we read in the farmers' papers this advice: 
 "Thin out your fruit in the spring!" The ordi- 
 nary farmer does not think it pays him to hire a 
 man at two dollars a day to pick the fruit from 
 the overladen branches. So the apricot and 
 peach orchards are left to their own way. This 
 way is to ripen bushels to the tree, and these are 
 little things the markets do not want. The less 
 fruit on a tree, the larger and finer it is sure to be 
 when ripe. The linnets would do the "thinning 
 out" for the farmers, if they were not persecuted 
 so. The birds would take the buds, and so pay 
 the farmer for what fruit they might claim in 
 summer. But the farmer "hates the sight of a 
 linnet," and if he sees a dozen of them in a peach 
 tree, in the spring, or any other time, he picks up 
 
THE LINNET. 9 
 
 stones, and calls the dogs, and sets his OWii boys 
 after the poor birds, and sometimes does worse 
 things. 
 
 In some parts of California the Russian thistle 
 is making its way into the fields and gardens. 
 The farmers are frightened. They are holding 
 up their hands, and crying, "What shall we do? 
 What shall we do?" The linnets, standing 
 close-by, are making answer, "We will do! We 
 will do!" The farmers hear them, and throw 
 more stones at them. They do not understand 
 the linnets' language. 
 
 You may imagine this is what they are saying: 
 "We must have seeds for food more than half of 
 the whole year. We have always lived on seeds. 
 Before the people came and set out orchards, we 
 ate nothing but seeds and small wild fruits. If 
 you will let us live and have a little of your fruit 
 in summer, we will eat up all the thistle-seeds as 
 fast as they ripen. And we will go on eating all 
 the weed-seeds, as we have always done. We will 
 be partners, you and we, and do each other good 
 turns." 
 
 In fall arid winter you may take long walks into 
 the country and see for yourselves what the lin- 
 nets are doing. You will find them in flocks in 
 weed-patches, swinging on the stems, chatting 
 
10 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 about their work, shelling the seeds from big and 
 little plants, and picking up what have fallen to 
 the ground. Happy-go-lucky birds they are when 
 they are out of the farmer's reach. And their 
 songs are very sweet. The linnets are among our 
 very finest singers. Pleasant of voice, they never 
 scold, nor " scrap" with other birds. They love 
 our homes. 
 
 Before we brought fruit trees to California, and 
 so began to hate the linnets, the Mexicans were 
 very kind to these birds. Early travelers tell us 
 they nested on window-shelves, under cornices, in 
 the tiles of the roofs, on any little break in the 
 adobe house walls, and even on the picket fences. 
 The native people were fond of them, and not 
 a child harmed them. They were called the 
 "adobe-bird," because they loved to be around 
 the adobe houses. 
 
 In the cities of California, the linnets build in 
 shade-trees along the streets. But they are shy, 
 the male keeping well out of sight. Their nests 
 are robbed and the old birds persecuted, even 
 though there is no fruit for them to steal. 
 
 If the city children knew all the fun there is in 
 taming the linnets, they would not miss it for the 
 world. 
 
 We will tell you a little of what we have done. 
 
THE LINNET. 
 
 11 
 
 We have lived in a California city for many years. 
 Our grounds are large enough to grow all the 
 common fruits. We have invited the linnets to 
 stay with us, summer and winter. There are a 
 dozen nests under the eaves, as many in trees and 
 
 LINNET S NEST. 
 
 shrubs, and no end of nesting-material placed 
 within sight and reach of the birds. We nail 
 cigar-boxes on the sides of the barn and wood- 
 shed, and berry-baskets in the trees and upper 
 balconies. Linnets nest everywhere, and they 
 sing the year round for us. 
 
 They will build nests "to order," of almost any 
 
12 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 sort of material we give them, and invite us to 
 watch how they do it. They bring all the other 
 birds to the grounds, so we have as many as 
 thirty-five varieties in the garden in the course of 
 a few weeks. 
 
 Don't they eat our fruit? Of course they do. 
 They are welcome to their share. And we can 
 truthfully say they take no more than their own 
 share. We have little tricks we play for them. 
 We sow them a lettuce-bed, plant berry-vines, 
 place cull oranges cut in halves about the garden, 
 and always have the table set for them. And 
 they do not eat us out of house and home! Lin- 
 nets make so much noise about their meals, peo- 
 ple think they eat more than they really do. If 
 they would keep still, the farmer would not know 
 they are in his fruit-trees, nor would he miss 
 what they take. It is their constant chatter that 
 gives them away. But we like their chatter! It 
 would be a dreary place for us without the linnets. 
 There are plenty of birds and other people who 
 do not sing. These are always sad or cross. 
 They do not cheer the world any. Did you ever 
 notice that the people who hate linnets are cross 
 people? They turn sour, like wilted peaches. 
 
 If you would be happy as linnets the whole 
 time, be comrades of the linnets. Learn what 
 
THE LINNET. 13 
 
 there is good to say about the birds, of whatever 
 sort, and tell it at home and abroad. Do not 
 covet what the birds eat. Cover up your share of 
 the berries in the garden with mosquito-netting, 
 or stand guard at the strawberry-bed when the lin- 
 nets and sparrows are talking about " berry-time." 
 You can get up with the birds, and have the best 
 time in the day before sun-up. While you are 
 keeping off the birds, you can learn what there is 
 to know about the strawberry-plants. See the 
 little baby strawberry-runners! They are chil- 
 dren of the old plants. They are tied to their 
 mother's apron-string until they are able to get 
 their own living. 0, it is a good thing for lin- 
 nets, and boys arid girls, to be alive in California! 
 They might go to school together. There is no 
 bird so fitted to be about the schoolhouse as the 
 linnet. Suppose the children of the lower grades 
 spent half an hour a day watching them? And 
 suppose there was a lettuce-bed or a little straw- 
 berry-patch under the window on purpose for 
 both to study? It would be as good for the chil- 
 dren as playing marbles. An owl's nest in the 
 belfry, and a lettuce-bed under the window! Ah! 
 these would make a kindergarten indeed. 
 
 The wisest men and women and the smallest 
 children are taking more interest in birds than 
 
14 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 ever before. Bird-books for reading are found in 
 nearly all our schools in America. People are 
 beginning to understand that birds were made 
 for something better than to kill for sport, or to 
 eat, or to wear in horrible shapes on bonnets. 
 
 Everybody is wanting to find out something 
 new about our birds. Professors from our uni- 
 versities are going to the far-off corners of the 
 world, to the islands, to the polar and the torrid 
 regions, to study birds. They want to find out 
 all there is to know about their ways, their nest- 
 ing habits, their plumage. The school children 
 of the West could be a great help to the scientific 
 world by learning new things about our common 
 birds. Take the linnets, for instance. How many 
 sorts of weed-seeds do they eat? It would give 
 the boys and girls many a long tramp to find this 
 out, and they should make notes of what they see, 
 in a little note-book carried in the pocket. They 
 could bring home specimens of all the seeds, and 
 the botany teacher could name them. And by 
 and by even the farmers would change their 
 minds about the linnets, all on account of what 
 the children have found out. And the linnets 
 will be loved, instead of hated, as certain spar- 
 rows in the New England States are now loved 
 for what they are doing for man, where, years 
 ago, they were despised and driven away. 
 
THE MOURNING DOVE. 
 
 IKE all the pigeon family, the mourn- 
 ing dove has a very small head, 
 set on broad shoulders. Any 
 child would recognize it at a 
 glance. As for its song, its 
 name describes it, a sad 
 coo-oo, very low, or quite 
 loud and strong. It is sometimes, a sweet note, 
 with less of the sadness. But it is true that the 
 voice of the mourning dove never " cheers a per- 
 son up," like that of the flicker and the robin. 
 
 The nesting season of this dove is from Feb- 
 ruary to September. The nest itself is a flat 
 structure, with no attempt on the part of the 
 builders to show skill or beauty. Just a few sticks 
 and straws, and it is done. It may be on the 
 ground, or in low bushes, or higher in the trees. 
 And the eggs are only two, 
 of a spotless white. 
 
 Both parent birds feed 
 the young by regurgitating 
 the food they have them- 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 Tame pigeons. 
 Game seasons. 
 Object of game laws. 
 Game-preserves. 
 
 15 
 
16 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 selves eaten and partly digested. You will seldom 
 see mourning doves in compact flocks, like the 
 blackbirds and finches. They are most often in 
 pairs, or in groups of four or six. They are very 
 fearless during the season in which they are pro- 
 tected by law, and are sometimes seen with the 
 hens in the barn-yards, or in stubble-fields close 
 to the farm-house. They are ground-birds, and 
 get their living by what they pick up, seeds 
 and grains, and perhaps some fruits like grapes 
 and berries. 
 
 A pair of mourning doves are true and faithful 
 to each other> and are said to be mated for life. 
 But the life of any dove in the West may be very 
 short indeed. From August 1st to February 1st 
 they are hunted and shot without mercy. 
 
 During the summer, they were so happy and so 
 tame! They would come to drink at fountains 
 and streams right in your sight, and often fly 
 past you, so near you could have touched them. 
 But one morning there came a sudden fright to 
 the trustful little doves; and before they knew 
 what was happening, a dozen shots were in the 
 air, and as many fluttering birds fell dead. Mates 
 were separated, parents and children were lost to 
 one another, and those who escaped on that 
 morning were hunted the next day. It does n't 
 
THE MOURNING DOVE. 17 
 
 take very long to "thin out" the mourning do'ves 
 in the hunting season, so we cease to see them 
 about our homes or in the open fields and on the 
 mesas. 
 
 They and the quail retire farther and farther 
 away, and learn to keep very still and out of 
 
 THE MOURNING DOVE. 
 
 sight. They grow to be very alert and wary, 
 seeming to recognize the sound of a shotgun from 
 a long distance. And well they know what the 
 loud report may mean! It is a sad time of the 
 year, and nobody seems to get any pleasure out of 
 all the killing, save the hunters, and they call it 
 "sport." 
 
 We have heard of several attempts to domesti- 
 cate the mourning doves, but they are said to be 
 
 W.S.K. VOL. 9 2 
 
18 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 usually afraid, and to refuse to be tamed, even 
 when they are petted and fed for a long while. 
 
 There was something very wonderful happened 
 to us a year ago. We were in the garden, talking 
 about the thrushes, and the phcebes, and the lin- 
 nets, when there came the whirr of wings, and a 
 mourning dove alighted in a pear tree close to 
 where we were standing. We looked at one 
 another in wonder, when the bird flew straight to 
 one of us and alighted on his shoulder. From 
 that day on, and for nearly a year, that mourning 
 dove was our household pet. It went in and out 
 on our heads or shoulders, slept on the picture- 
 frames or the curtain-poles, or on the cupboard 
 doors. It ate only bird-seed which the canary 
 left when it flew away, and a very few bread 
 crumbs. We knew it to be a female, because it 
 lacked the shining tints and velvety spots of the 
 male. 
 
 It went away one day, but returned after sev- 
 eral weeks, and seemed glad to be back again. 
 We learned to love it very much. And strangers 
 wondered, when they came to see us. The first 
 thing a visitor would know, when seated, was a 
 flutter from the next room, and the dove alighted 
 on his or her hat. (This is the only bird on a 
 lady's hat which we have ever enjoyed looking at; 
 
THE MOURNING DOVE. 19 
 
 and the only one we have ever seen which had a 
 natural look.) 
 
 If the visitor were a gentleman, the dove flew 
 straight to his bare head and peeped over his 
 forehead, as if to see what color his eyes were. 
 But Dovie always preferred ladies and girls; and 
 children she loved, flying back and forth from 
 one to another as if delighted to see them. In 
 spring she began to peep into the closets and over 
 the shelves, and in the baskets and hats and 
 paper bags. All the time she would "coo-oo" 
 low to herself, and sometimes fly to our shoulders 
 and rub her pretty head on our cheeks and caress 
 our faces with her beak. 
 
 One day one of the family was making ginger- 
 cookies, and went to the closet for the spices. 
 There, on top of the spice-box, was a handful of 
 twine, and in the middle of the twine a white egg. 
 
 After this, during the summer, Dovie made 
 seven nests and laid seven eggs. She never laid 
 more than one egg in the same place. And the 
 nests were light and loose, just as the nests of the 
 mourning dove are made in the wilds. No at- 
 tempt at building up the sides, or at soft linings. 
 Sometimes she took only bits of white cloth and 
 strings, and twice she went to the work-basket 
 and selected pretty bits of lace and baby ribbon. 
 
20 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 This particularly nice nest she made on top of the 
 piano in the parlor, under the breasts of a couple 
 of stuffed white ptarmigan. 
 
 She made one nest on the library shelf, one in 
 the crown of an old hat on the back screen porch, 
 one on the shelf in the clothes-closet, and one be- 
 tween two pegs where clothes were hanging. 
 There happened to be a dress sleeve caught aslant 
 of the two pegs, and on this she made her nest 
 and laid her egg. 
 
 The whole story of our Dovie would make sev- 
 eral chapters. We have told enough about her to 
 make you wish that you had a wild dove come to 
 you and live in your house for a whole year. 
 When you are out in the fields or foothills, and 
 see the doves, please call, "Dovie, Dovie," and 
 perhaps our pet will come to you. But do not 
 shoot her! Indeed, no hunter could have the 
 heart to shoot her, for if she saw him in time, she 
 would fly straight to his shoulder and say, 
 "Coo-oo, coo-oo." 
 
THE BLACK PHCEBE. 
 
 TS name is always Phoebe, old 
 or young, male or female. 
 And the bird named itself. 
 For fear we might forget, 
 and call it Susan, or Maggie, 
 or Mary, or Tom or Charles, 
 it keeps saying, "Phoebe," 
 over and over, the whole year. 
 
 Each bird calls its mate Phoebe, and the par- 
 ents call all their young ones Phoebe; and they 
 all together cry " Phoebe " when they are hungry. 
 You hear it from the barn or house roof, from 
 low weed-stalks, from the top of the garden hy- 
 drant, from the wood-pile, anywhere from any 
 lookout point. The plaintive note comes from 
 the clothes-line, where the bird balances, tilting 
 up and down until it can 
 catch sight of that insect 
 again. 
 
 People who are not 
 cheerful by nature do not 
 like the phoebe's note. 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 The honey industry. 
 Life-history of bees. 
 Social and solitary In- 
 sects. 
 Structure of stings. 
 
 21 
 
w 
 
 M 
 
 ti 
 
 S 
 M 
 
THE BLACK PHCEBE. 23 
 
 But merry folks, who like to laugh at anything, 
 will tell you they love to hear it, especially on a 
 foggy morning. 
 
 There, sits the bird right before you, on the top 
 of the barn-door, which you left open! She is 
 turning her head to one side in the familiar way 
 she has. She ruffles her small crest, and looks 
 all over as if she had dressed for breakfast in a 
 hurry. Her habit of lifting her feathers gives 
 one the idea that she is a very careless bird, 
 always in poor dress. But it is not so! She is 
 tidy, even when she is on the edge of the puddle 
 for mud. She may have a beakful, 'but not a 
 speck is on her breast, or face, or wings. 
 
 We leave the garden hydrant dripping on pur- 
 pose for Phoebe, from March to August, as this is 
 her nesting-time ; and phoebe-birds must have 
 water at nesting-time. 
 
 She may bring off three broods during the 
 spring and summer. With four to a brood, that 
 would make twelve young phoebes a year for each 
 nest made. And yet phoebe-birds are not so very 
 common about our homes. We have but one or 
 two pairs with us, though we tempt them to come 
 by all the ways we know. 
 
 The phoebes build under the eaves, if they can 
 find the least shelf for the first load of mud. 
 
24 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 With too small foundations, these nests usually 
 fall by their own weight. 
 
 You may see the phcebes peeping about under 
 all the cornices, almost any day in the year. To 
 be sure, their main errand is for food; but they 
 
 YOUNG PHCEBE. 
 
 take notes about the good nesting-nooks, and re- 
 member when the time comes. 
 
 We nail cigar-boxes under the barn eaves for 
 the phoebes. We have a pair which have nested 
 in one box five times. It is under the projecting 
 gable of a low stable roof, on the north side. 
 They seldom choose the south or west. They like 
 
THE BLACK PHCEBE. 25 
 
 shade and coolness. The young would die in the 
 hot south sunshine, and the mud nest would 
 crack with the sun directly on it. 
 
 The edges of our box gave Phoebe a footing 
 while she was making the nest and caring for the 
 young ones. When they were feathered, they 
 leaned over the side of the box and cried, 
 " Phoebe, Phoebe," instead of " Mamma, mamma." 
 No other young- birds we know can speak so 
 plainly. 
 
 As soon as they could fly, the mother brought 
 all four of them to the rose-trellis by the beehives, 
 where they cried in concert, " Phoebe, Phoebe," 
 as if they were talking to the bees. But the bees 
 paid no heed until they were obliged to. It was 
 drone-time, and the big bumming fellows were 
 filling the air. 
 
 What are drones? They are the males of the 
 common honey-bee. They are larger than the 
 worker-bees, very lazy, and fly only in the middle 
 of the day, when the weather is very warm. 
 They never bring a drop of nectar to the hive, 
 nor do they help at the work inside the house. 
 They just eat and eat, and get in the way of the 
 workers. You have heard a lazy boy called a 
 "drone"? Probably it is not because he eats so 
 much, "but because he does not help with the 
 home-work. 
 
26 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Well, the phoebes are very fond of these big 
 drones. Mother phoebe snatched one as it was 
 booming back to the hive. Any one, even a bird, 
 can tell by the sound when drones are in the air. 
 She brought it to the trellis and banged it against 
 the bar. Then she gave it to a young phoebe. 
 You should have seen the fun! Get yourself a 
 beehive, and you will soon have the phoebes about 
 your place. The little phoebe next to the mother 
 took the drone, and the next young phoebe 
 snatched at the other end of him. Each pulled 
 as hard as it could, and of course the drone came 
 in two somewhere. But the tail of the drone had 
 no sting, and so the fellow that got the head was 
 no better off than its brother, who got the tail. 
 Drones never do have a sting, and that is the 
 reason the mother phoebe likes to feed them to 
 her young ones. And she taught them early to 
 choose the drones, when near the hives. And 
 she was teaching them to sit still and watch. A 
 good lesson for anybody to learn ! 
 
 Phoebe does not catch insects while soaring on 
 the wing, as the swallows and swifts do. She sits 
 on the watch arid makes a dive or lunge through 
 the air, just as the kingfisher sits 011 his perch 
 and dives into the water for fish. 
 
 Sometimes the phoebes see a saw-bug or small 
 
THE BLACK PHCEBE. 27 
 
 beetle crawling on the ground, and they make a 
 dive for it, not walking or even standing on the 
 ground, but supporting themselves by their wings 
 while they snatch it. Their feet, like the feet of 
 the humming-birds, are made for perching, not 
 for walking or standing on flat surfaces. 
 
 Once our phoebe was late in relining her old 
 nest under our eaves in the box, and linnet laid 
 her own eggs in it. Phoebe came and told her, in 
 a very mournful voice, that the nest was hers; 
 that she had built it in the first place, and had 
 already occupied it four times. But linnet 
 would n't move out. She said she had "rented 
 the house for the season," and phcebe would have 
 to go somewhere else. At least, this is what we 
 supposed she was saying. 
 
 Phoebe pulled at linnet's shoulder and said 
 harsher notes to her. Then she called father 
 phoebe, and they both tried to get linnet out of 
 the nest. Linnet poked her beak out at them as 
 if to fight them, but cuddled down more firmly 
 into the nest. Then she called father linnet, and 
 he argued. And they all four argued. At last 
 the phcebes gave it up, and went off to a neigh- 
 bor's barn. But they watched their turn, and 
 one day, as soon as the young linnets had tum- 
 Med out of the nest, phcebe took her place, nor 
 
28 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 did she give it up when linnet asked her. Twice 
 has linnet had that nest, and five times has 
 phcebe had it. Each bird relines it before laying 
 her eggs. The swallow claimed it last summer, 
 as you will see in the swallow chapter. 
 
 The black phcebe is one of our most trustful 
 birds, and is resident all over California. It lives 
 on insect food, and so is a very good friend to the 
 farmer, and the housekeeper. It is up early for 
 the flies on the screens and under the spouting, 
 and sits up late for the insects that love the twi- 
 light. It has been seen to catch moths and lace- 
 wings by lamplight. 
 
 We have not seen the male assist at the nest- 
 building, but he is always close-by to hear the call 
 of his mate. He helps to feed the young and to 
 teach them how to fly. Should they fall in at- 
 tempting too long a flight for the first time, he 
 flies straight down to them and tells us exactly 
 where to find them. The young do not leave the 
 nest as early as other birdlings which are hatched 
 from nests in bushes and close trees. The phoeb.es 
 are usually high up, and can see nothing to tempt 
 them out of the nest. You may see them peeping 
 over in a half-frightened way. If they catch sight 
 of you, they will bob their heads down behind 
 the nest rim. If you climb to the nest and put 
 
THE BLACK PHOEBE. 29 
 
 up your hand, expecting to find out how young 
 phoebes would look and feel in the palm of your 
 hand, you will he disappointed. Out will fly all 
 four of them before you touch them. And it is 
 surprising what a long journey this first flight 
 usually is. They must be surprised themselves. 
 How did they know they had wings? But you 
 frightened them, and the wings of a scared bird 
 seem to grow in half a minute or less. 
 
 They have been seen far down in mine-shafts. 
 
 The phoebes do not nest in colonies, like the 
 swallows. We have not seen a phcebe's nest near 
 the nest of any of her phcebe friends. They like 
 to be alone. 
 
 There is a little boy in San Luis Rey, whom we 
 have not seen, but who writes us letters about the 
 birds he sees around his home. He is too young 
 to go to school, and writes in print. Once he 
 made the picture of a bird which he told us was 
 very tame about the house, but "loves to stay all 
 by himself," " very black, with a white waistcoat." 
 And would we " please tell him what it was" ? 
 
 Had he not told us a word about the "white 
 waistcoat," and the bird's habit of "sitting all 
 alone." we should have recognized the phcebe by 
 its picture drawn with pen and ink. The head 
 is large and slightly crested, and the long black 
 
30 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 wings droop well down. It is a splendid picture 
 of a phoebe. The little boy who could draw it at 
 seven years of age will some day make an Audu- 
 bon or a Wilson. 
 
 If children would more often make a picture 
 of the birds they see, what a fine photograph- 
 album they would have by and by! Learn the 
 expression of the whole body, how the head is 
 carried, how long the legs are, and what sort of 
 beak and feet the subject has. A note-book with 
 a picture on each page would be so interesting! 
 The picture would head the page, and beneath it 
 would be the written description, colors, habits, 
 food, and place of residence. Try it! 
 
WOODPECKERS. 
 
 hOULD the woodpecker tell his 
 own story, it would be worth 
 the hearing, and take him a 
 good while to tell it. 
 It would need no patience on our 
 
 part to listen, for no other bird has ways so drolly 
 
 interesting, no, not even the jay or the crow. 
 And he ought to be able to tell a good story, 
 
 with such a tongue as he has in his saucy head. 
 
 Not that he uses his tongue to talk or to sing 
 
 with; but he does stranger things with it. 
 
 If your eyes are sharp, and you are able to 
 
 stand quite still among the oaks, so nobody will 
 
 know you are about, you may chance to catch a 
 
 glimpse of woodpecker's 
 
 tongue. Not that he was 
 
 ever known to "put out 
 
 his tongue" for anybody 
 
 to see, not he ! He 
 
 thrusts it out suddenly, 
 
 and into crevices of bark, 
 
 and cracks anywhere, 
 
 31 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Wood-boring Insects. 
 
 Lumber industry. 
 
 Structure and use of 
 woodpeckers' tail- 
 feathers. 
 
 Acorn-storing habits of 
 woodpeckers. 
 
 Who was Audubon ? 
 
WOODPECKERS. 33 
 
 and little holes, for any dainty morsel of an insect 
 which may be hiding. 
 
 The bird will hardly give you time to notice 
 that the very tip of his tongue is barbed like an 
 arrow, or the spines of a cactus. These barbs are 
 placed on the tip of the woodpecker's tongue on 
 purpose to hold onto things with. 
 
 It is very interesting to watch the woodpecker 
 among the trees in quiet places, poking about 
 with his tongue in the haunts of the beetle folk 
 that would only be too glad to get out of his 
 reach. And they would get away in a hurry, 
 many a time, were it not for the barbs on the 
 rascal's tongue. These barbs seize right hold of 
 an insect and draw it out of its snug quarters. 
 You see, the barbs slant backwards towards the 
 throat of the bird, and so they brush whatever is 
 in their way straight into the open beak of the 
 woodpecker. 
 
 Should you say to the woodpecker, " Let me see 
 your tongue, if you please,, sir," and the bird 
 should put it out, you would notice that it pro- 
 jects as far beyond the tip of the beak as the 
 length of the beak itself; and you would wonder 
 what he does with it when he is done putting it 
 out. 
 
 If by any chance you should come upon a dead 
 
 W. S. E. VOL. 9 3 
 
34 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 woodpecker, you might ask the teacher to dissect 
 the head, so all the children in the room could 
 see exactly how the tongue works. You would 
 find that it is divided in the throat into a pair of 
 slender gristle bones. These bones pass clear 
 over the back of the skull, coining down in front 
 to beneath the nostrils. A narrow strip of 
 muscle goes along with them, to help them move 
 back and forth. So, when a woodpecker pleases, 
 he is able to stretch his tongue far beyond his 
 beak. 
 
 And the bird has use enough for such a tongue. 
 It does its best work in the dark. It is so sensi- 
 tive, we might almost conclude the bird smells 
 with it. If it finds an insect too small for the 
 barbs to get good hold of, the woodpecker wets the 
 tip of its tongue with saliva from its mouth. Of 
 course the insect sticks, and comes out of its 
 hiding-place, just as the woodpecker would have 
 it. It is on the same principle that you wet the 
 end of your finger to pick up a very small flat 
 seed. 
 
 The saliva of the woodpecker is made after a 
 sticky fashion; and the more the insect kicks 
 against the "tanglefoot" paste, the closer it sticks 
 to the tongue of the bird. 
 
 But the tongue would be of little service with- 
 
WOODPECKERS. 35 
 
 out the beak behind it. The beak is strong and 
 hard. It is hammer, and auger, and ax, and 
 wedge. 
 
 A few feet from the window where we are 
 writing is one of those great black walnut trees we 
 have mentioned before. This very minute a 
 woodpecker is hammering away with all his 
 might. His big head bobs up and down as if it 
 were a hammer-head driving a nail into the tree. 
 He is holding on by his toes, and partly bracing 
 himself by the tips of his pointed tail-feathers. 
 
 His toes are not like those of most birds. 
 There are two of them that point forward, and 
 two that point backward, or downward, when he 
 is on the tree-trunk. He has no fear of falling or 
 slipping. He might take a nap in the selfsame 
 position, were -we not going to open the door at 
 this particular moment. 
 
 We go out towards the tree silently and slowly. 
 Woodpecker observes us, and takes a hitch 
 around the trunk in a fashion of his own. He 
 would have us think he has gone away to the 
 woods. We wait! We know his tricks! Now 
 his big round head appears slyly from behind the 
 tree, and he takes a hurried look our way. Now 
 he takes another hitch, and so we follow him 
 quite around the tree. He stops to hammer be- 
 
36 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 tween spells, and this gives us time to walk closer. 
 Our great American bird student, Audubon, tells 
 this story of the woodpecker as he knew the 
 bird:- 
 
 "When alighted on a fence-stake by the road 
 or in a field, and one approaches them, they 
 gradually move sidewise out of sight, peeping now 
 and then to discover your intention. When you 
 are quite close and opposite, the birds will lie still 
 until- you have passed, when they hop to the top 
 of the stake and rattle upon it with their bill, as if 
 well pleased with their trick. Should you ap- 
 proach within arm's-length, which you may often 
 do, the woodpecker flies to the next stake, bends 
 his head to peep, and rattles again, as if to invite 
 you to go on with the game. He alights on the 
 roof of the house, goes along it, beats the shingles, 
 utters a cry, and dives down into your garden to 
 help himself to your best strawberries." 
 
 When our woodpecker flies, he looks as if he 
 wears a white gown, with a black cloak thrown 
 over his shoulders, and a crimson cap on his 
 head. As for his eyes, they are white or pink, 
 and they look so droll, something like the eyes of 
 the blackbirds on the lawn. 
 
 Now he is running up and down and all around 
 a pepper tree in the front garden. We should 
 
WOODPECKERS. 37 
 
 say that he runs up, and backs down the tree; for 
 he does not run head down, as the creeper and 
 some of its relations do. 
 
 He is making little round holes in the bark of 
 the pepper tree. He has already made this tree 
 look very oddly marked, as if it were done on 
 purpose to show us what a fine wood-carver he is. 
 Some of the holes are in rows, and others scat- 
 tered or in imperfect rings. Many of them were 
 made some time ago, and are full of white sap, 
 now dried into white gum or resin. Woodpecker 
 picks this gum out, but he has better manners 
 than to chew it in company. Indeed, he never 
 does chew it at all. We suppose it melts or soft- 
 ens after it is swallowed, and digests. 
 
 Some of the little holes in the bark are old and 
 black, and the bird finds nothing in them. He 
 simply peeps into them as he goes around, 
 making fresh holes, and taking gum from others. 
 He may imagine it was himself that stored the 
 white gum in the holes, as he is known to store 
 other things. The truth is, he simply bored the 
 hole, and the tree secreted the gum for him. 
 First it was juice, and then it congealed into wax. 
 You can taste it for yourself. You will wonder 
 what woodpecker wants of such gum as that. 
 
 Some woodpeckers are thrifty. They have a 
 
38 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 way of " saving something for a rainy day," which 
 other people would do well to imitate. One kind 
 of woodpecker, called the " flicker," was seen to 
 drop acorns into a hole in the roof of an old barn. 
 As often as he dropped the nut in, he peeped down 
 to see it, but it was out of sight. Usually, he can 
 
 THE FLICKER. 
 
 see what he is hiding, and judge if it is properly 
 done. Not seeing his acorn, he went on dropping 
 more into the hole, as if he were bent on filling it 
 to the brim. But it was more of an undertaking 
 than he supposed. He gave it up after a few days. 
 It would have taken more acorns than a hundred 
 woodpeckers could find to fill that empty old 
 barn. That was a good joke! 
 
 Woodpeckers make their nests at the end of 
 
WOODPECKERS. 39 
 
 long, deep holes in tree trunks. A boy sees a 
 hole far up the side of an old tree, and he thinks 
 "now is his 1 chance." Hasn't he "wished he 
 could find a woodpecker's nest" for many a day? 
 After a while, after breaking his suspenders, and 
 tearing his clothes, and getting smut from last 
 year's forest fires all over himself, he reaches the 
 hole. It is much deeper than he supposed. His 
 arm seems shorter than it ought to be, and he 
 tries the other arm. Should he reach the bottom 
 of one nest out of half a dozen that he is lucky 
 enough to find, he may wish he had n't ; for 
 snakes very often make their homes in such places 
 after they have been deserted by their original 
 owners. Possibly the bird has told the boy ex- 
 actly where to find the nest, by dropping a pile of 
 chips at the foot. "Woodpeckers and carpenter- 
 bees have a way of scattering their chips about at 
 the base of the tree they are working in. Thus 
 are these "workmen known by their chips," as 
 says the old adage. 
 
 The eggs of the woodpecker are from four to 
 six. They are white and glossy, like the china 
 eggs used for nest-eggs in a poultry -yard. 
 
 Besides insects under leaves, under bark, and 
 in decayed wood, some woodpeckers catch moths 
 arid flies on the wing almost as well as the true 
 fly-catchers. 
 
40 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 In fruit and nut time they "live high," and 
 this is when the farmer wishes there were n't any 
 woodpeckers, and he sets his boys to "shooing" 
 the birds away. 
 
 If the boys surprise a woodpecker in the or- 
 chard at a late apple tree, he will plunge his beak 
 into a sample and fly off to cover with it, as much 
 as to say, " I '11 have one out of your hundreds, 
 any way! Follow me and get it! " 
 
 Woodpecker knows a corn-field from a marsh 
 meadow or an orange orchard; and he loves to 
 strip down the corn-husks. He listened outside, 
 clinging to the tall stalk, and he heard the fat 
 worm gnawing its own breakfast inside. In 
 taking the worm, he incidentally tastes of the 
 milky, sweet juice of the corn, and smacks his 
 mouth for more. The farmer thinks he comes 
 for the corn, when in truth he is after the worms, 
 that are there before him. But woodpecker and 
 Mr. Farmer have a misunderstanding about the 
 matter. Woodpecker is waiting, with many other 
 birds, for the boys to tell the farmers they are 
 more good than harm. 
 
THE CROW. 
 
 HEREVER the crow "caws," 
 there is trouble. He may not 
 make the trouble himself, but 
 other people will. The farmer 
 :: ^^^a r ^ sees him at work or play in the 
 ^ ~^^- field, "and shoots at him. The 
 crow usually flies off, mumbling 
 something about " only hunting for grubs ! Did 
 n't mean to pull up the corn too." 
 
 The crow is a relative of the blue jay, and has 
 many of the habits of the jay. The jay wears a 
 prettier coat than the crow, and perhaps it is 
 on this account that he is not so commonly 
 despised. Crow has a hard life of it, let him 
 live where he may. Next to the linnet, our 
 farmers hate him. All farmers everywhere hate 
 him, and so unlucky crow keeps as well out of 
 sight as he can. 
 
 No need of telling any 
 one that the crow is 
 black. You would as soon 
 look for a red and blue 
 
 41 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 Scarecrows. 
 Corn-planting. 
 Life-history of wire- 
 worms and cut- worms. 
 
42 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 stovepipe as for a crow of any other color than 
 black. 
 
 Perhaps it is because the crow is black, and he 
 knows it, that he shuns the open country as much 
 as he can. He loves best the dark woods. Here 
 he is not so easily seen. He has learned to be 
 wary. All his forefathers and foremothers have 
 been despised, and the instinct to keep out of 
 reach is born in him. Especially does he keep 
 at long range when a hunter is in sight. 
 
 But whatever may be said against the crows, 
 they have a virtue which should commend them 
 to Western people. It is said that a pair of 
 crows, once mated, never separate as long as they 
 live. They take each other "for better or for 
 worse." And if left undisturbed, they use the 
 same nesting-site year after year. 
 
 To be sure, it is not much of a nest, only a few 
 sticks laid up loosely on the branch of a tree. 
 The eggs are four to six, greenish, dotted with 
 browns. In the low lands the nesting-season is 
 in April and May. 
 
 Though the crows do not nest in our gardens, 
 they are known to visit our farm-yards and fields 
 when they are hungry, like any tramp. They are 
 seen to follow hunters when they are out camp- 
 ing, like the jay, for what crumbs and scraps they 
 
THE CROW. 43 
 
 may find. They are accused of taking eggs from 
 the nests of smaller birds and flying off with 
 them, to eat them at their leisure. That is no 
 more than we all do, is it ? Do not we all hunt 
 eggs, and think we have fine luck if we chance 
 upon a hatful in the mow ? Crow can take but 
 one at a time, since he wears no hat. 
 
 Crows are really useful birds, and the farmers 
 should not despise them so. They take thou- 
 sands of insects, that are worse enemies to the 
 farmer than the crows themselves. Wonder if 
 the farmers will believe this! The boys might 
 watch and see if this is true. The boys might 
 form boys' farmers' clubs on purpose to report 
 for the birds who are unable to speak for them- 
 selves. It would be great fun, as well as a useful 
 work for the interests of agriculture. 
 
 Perhaps you will not see the crows in large 
 flocks, but oftener in pairs, or in autumn, in fami- 
 lies of five or six. They seem to be holding con- 
 ferences together at times, sitting on bare limbs 
 of trees and chattering in their own dialect. 
 Tamed crows make interesting pets. There was 
 one in our family once, for a while; but on ac- 
 count of his habit of hiding grandmother's spec- 
 tacles, and sister's thimbles, and father's pennies, 
 he wa's excused from living with us very long. 
 
44 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 He had a sly way of hunting through coats and 
 vests that happened to be left in his sight. He 
 knew how to find the pockets, and stole what hap- 
 pened to he in them. Cunning fellow! and a 
 thief as well! 
 
THE WESTERN ROBIN. 
 
 XWAYS the robin is the robin, 
 for you know the bird by its 
 red breast, unless it happen to 
 be very young, when the breast 
 is speckled. The robin is a 
 little wanderer, but no tramp; 
 *"* he works for his living wher- 
 ever he goes, and so does his whole family. 
 
 They come south in large flocks in winter-time, 
 going back into the mountains to the north of us 
 when spring comes, to nest and raise their young. 
 The nest of the robin is the same on whichever 
 side of the Rockies you may find it, in the 
 crotch of a tree, made of sticks and mud, lined 
 with hairs. And the eggs are ever the same little 
 greenish-blue gems. They may be four, and 
 they may be five. 
 
 Just as our first rains of 
 winter are dripping from 
 the tree boughs, there 
 comes a familiar cry from 
 somebody, " The robins 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Shade-trees and ever- 
 greens. 
 
 Value of angleworms. 
 
 (See DARWIN'S Vegetable 
 Mould and Earth- Worms.) 
 
 45 
 
IP 
 
 THE WESTERN ROBIN. 
 
THE WESTERN ROBIN. 47 
 
 have come! The robins have come! " and we run 
 to see. There they are in the pepper trees. 
 
 Our pepper trees seem to ripen their clusters of 
 red berries on purpose for the robins (and the 
 waxwings), and these birds never leave us until 
 they have stripped the boughs. They swallow 
 the fruit whole, and throw up the bare, hard seeds 
 after the sweet pulp has digested. You can hear 
 the patter of the seeds on roof and sidewalk. 
 
 Our little friend from San Diego writes that the 
 robins and waxwings put pepper-seeds in the 
 water-troughs. He says, " The birds must bring 
 them a good ways, as there are no pepper trees 
 near the troughs." If he watches this winter, he 
 will notice that just before the robins come to 
 drink, they are in the pepper trees, and of course, 
 when they drink, they spit out the seeds, as they 
 have no use for them. 
 
 One would think they might stop long enough 
 to eat their meals properly, arid reject the kernels 
 in the first place; but if you try tasting the 
 pepper-berries for yourselves, you will, see that 
 the meat is on the outside of the shell, instead of 
 being within the shell, like a nut. And the sweet 
 meat sticks to the pepper-seed, so the bird must 
 swallow it to soak it off. There is always a good 
 reason for what birds are doing, if one can only 
 get at it. 
 
48 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Everywhere the robin goes he carries his 
 cheerful song with him, and you may sometimes 
 imagine a flock are holding a low conversation 
 with each other. Their red breasts and black 
 heads make our lawns very beautiful of a Jan- 
 uary morning, before the angleworms have 
 gone back into the ground. Up all night, and 
 out to get a breath of air, these earthworms have 
 left little roadways all over the top of the ground, 
 especially if it happened to rain in the night. 
 Angleworms are like water-birds; they like a 
 little of the water, but too much of it would 
 drown them. Robins seem to know all about 
 this, so they, too, are out bright and early to look 
 over the situation. 
 
 Always, in any country, the robin and the 
 angleworm are bosom friends. We do not know 
 another bird on such intimate terms with the 
 bare, smooth angleworms. The mockers will not 
 touch them. 
 
 Robins are supposed to listen to the worms 
 when they are about their business below the 
 lawn, and the poor little fellows are snapped up 
 before they see daylight. If indeed they do see 
 anything! However, an earthworm has some 
 privileges the robin has not, be his breast ever so 
 red. 
 
THE WESTERN ROBIN. 49 
 
 If a robin snatches at a worm, and the worm 
 resists, as who would riot? the robin and the 
 worm part company somewhere. Usually it is 
 in the middle of the worm. Robin swallows his 
 share, and the worm's own share of himself dis- 
 appears deep in the ground, out of sight arid 
 hearing. By and by his wounds heal, and he is 
 a good fat worm again, as long as any other 
 worm, arid as good eating. 
 
 Should robin lose both pieces of a worm that 
 is bitten in two, there will be two worms in due 
 time, able to come out on a wet night and look 
 around. Should the two meet, they will not 
 recognize each other as having been just one 
 worm some time back. Robin will eat them both 
 in good time', if they don't watch out. 
 
 But robin has his turn at bad luck. Chip- 
 munk, who loves fresh eggs for breakfast better 
 than he loves anything else in the world, keeps 
 one eye on a pair of robins at nesting-time. He 
 sees them getting mud and sticks, and he laughs 
 in his sleeve. He knows what they are getting 
 mud and sticks for. Arid he knows just when 
 the eggs are all laid. Some bright morning, 
 when robins' backs are turned, the eggs will dis- 
 appear. 
 
 This little red rascal with a striped back loves 
 
 w. s, K. VOL. 9 4 
 
50 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 young robins almost as well as fresh eggs, and in 
 his walks about the woods he listens. Chipmunk 
 gets very hungry, almost as hungry as a boy 
 when school is out, and who can blame him for 
 eating the first thing he comes across? 
 
 But chipmunk takes not all the robins, any 
 more than robin takes all the angleworms and 
 grasshoppers and garden fruits. Enough young 
 robins are left in the nests for another year; and 
 late in the fall and winter the old robins and the 
 old chipmunks may be seen talking over their 
 troubles while they sun themselves on a forest 
 log. 
 
 We place food all about our grounds for the 
 robins. They like bread and butter, and cake 
 and pie. Water sweetened with molasses is their 
 delight, when once they have found it out. 
 
 Birds are like other sensible people, they do 
 not jump at conclusions. If you put out a dish 
 of food for them which they have never seen be- 
 fore, they pass it by with a glance, or sample it 
 with great care. They want to be quite sure it is 
 good eating. And the birds watch one another 
 at table! If a robin sees a sparrow or a mocker 
 eating a new sort of food, it takes right hold itself, 
 as if it had been used to such a dish all its life. 
 
 It seems as though the same robins come back 
 
THE WESTERN ROBIN. 51 
 
 to our garden-table each winter, for they go 
 straight to the place where they ate their last 
 breakfast, as if they remembered. 
 
 Farmers think they " remember," too, and they 
 accuse the robins of stealing things. They do 
 not stop to think that every young robin is fed 
 its own weight in insects every day it lives. And 
 most of these insects are enemies of the farmers' 
 crops. 
 
SONG-SPARROWS. 
 
THE SONG-SPARROW. 
 
 OU would know the song-spar- 
 row by its voice anywhere, just 
 as you know the members of 
 your own family who speak 
 in the next room. They are 
 among our sweetest singers. True ? 
 the song is never long, but it is 
 hearty and full of cheer. You like to hear it on 
 a foggy morning or in the drip of the rain. If 
 something has troubled you, and you are too sad 
 to see any of your other friends, you welcome 
 the song-sparrow, and listen to what he has to 
 say. 
 
 He sings wherever the notion takes him, on 
 the ground, in a shrub, on a log spread out flat in 
 the sunshine, on the rim of the water-dish you so 
 kindly keep for him in- the garden. He sings at 
 his meals, between mouth- 
 fuls, before daylight, after 
 dark, at high noon, and 
 we have heard his note in 
 the night, as if, like many 
 
 63 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Pampas plumes : natives 
 of \vhat country? 
 
 Uses? 
 
54 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 another bird, he were talking in his sleep. Even 
 his chirp is not unmusical. ~ 
 
 While his mate is patiently sitting upon her 
 four or five speckled eggs, the singer seems never, 
 to quit his song. He remains near her, as if the 
 sound of his voice would cheer her up. And 
 when once the eggs have hatched, the two old 
 birds are seen always together, pecking in the 
 mulching beneath the trees, scratching in the 
 dead leaves, or hunting amid the foliage of low 
 shrubs. All the time they are hunting for food 
 for their little ones, they keep up that constant 
 chatter, as if it were the happiest thing in the 
 world to be obliged to scratch for a living. 
 Always their tails stick straight up, very much 
 like the tail of a wren. And they have a way of 
 jerking their tails in a sociable wa^y, as if it helped 
 on the conversation. 
 
 We have the song-sparrows always with us, in 
 summer and winter. You see them in pairs the 
 year round, not in flocks. They love the great 
 bunches of pampas-grass so common in the gar- 
 dens of California. As you walk past the waving 
 grasses, there is a rustle and a chirp, and out flies 
 a song-sparrow. And they love the closely 
 clipped hedges as well. We have found more 
 nests in the pampas-grass and the hedges, than 
 
THE SONG-SPARROW. 55 
 
 anywhere else. It is dark and sheltered here, 
 and the birds have a way of creeping into places 
 nobody else would think of. And their nests are 
 always dark in color, suiting the shadows where 
 they are placed. The base is of grasses or little 
 twigs, but the inside is lined very thickly with 
 black horsehair. We have got into the habit of 
 picking up the combings when the horse is 
 groomed, all the year round, and tying it about 
 low tree-limbs or sticking it in the cracks of the 
 woodshed. Song-sparrow finds it in due time. 
 We have had light bay horses, but combings from 
 these the sparrows never choose. They leave the 
 red hairs for the linnets, who build where the sun 
 shines, more than in the shadows. Light colors 
 are not so readily seen in the bright light as in 
 darker places^ And it would never do for the 
 song-sparrows to build their nests in plain sight. 
 They place them too low. So they have their 
 own way of hiding them. Sometimes they nest 
 in our bamboo thickets. When the young are 
 half-fledged, they slip out of the nest and slide 
 down the smooth bamboo stalks to the close 
 growth below, where they are safe from cats and 
 other enemies. 
 
 The way they have of slipping out of the nest 
 before they are able to fly gets them into many 
 
56 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 troubles. We have found a baby song-sparrow 
 hanging to the nest by one toe, quite unable to 
 help itself out of the difficulty. Horsehair makes 
 good stout ropes, and can be depended upon to 
 hold onto when the bird gets its toes tangled up in 
 it. This does not often happen. Once, when it 
 did happen, the old birds fed the young one until 
 it was grown, the poor prisoner not being able to 
 get away. We saw the parents taking food to the 
 bamboo long after we had seen the young ones 
 fly out. By careful search we found the prisoned 
 bird and cut the hair that held it. 
 
 The sparrows eat almost anything, from tender 
 shoots of plants and soft buds to insects of many 
 sorts, and even to cooked food. We always keep 
 something out for them. We sometimes think 
 they have the sense of smell, for they will find a 
 slice of bread and butter, hidden anywhere in the 
 garden, almost as soon as we are out of their way. 
 
 No need of always making crumbs for the 
 birds; they like good fat slices as well as anybody 
 does. And their strong beaks seem made on 
 purpose for breaking up crusts. Our farmers 
 make a mistake sometimes when they think the 
 sparrows are eating up their grain. They are 
 more often hunting the weevils that eat holes in 
 the grain, and other insects that like the nutty 
 
THE SONG-SPARROW. 57 
 
 taste of wheat and barley. When we get into a 
 habit of thinking evil of anybody, it is hard to 
 quit. Farmers have fallen into the habit of 
 thinking evil of the sparrows and of calling them 
 hard names. But the birds keep on doing a good 
 turn for those same farmers, and waiting until 
 they are better understood. 
 
 A person who spends his time finding out 
 things about birds watched a pair of sparrows a 
 whole day, just to be sure they are useful birds. 
 He counted carefully, and discovered that the old 
 birds fed exactly forty grubs an hour to the 
 young ones in the nest. Now, what are grubs, 
 that sparrows should hunt forty of them an hour 
 for baby-food? They are the young of beetles. 
 We have many harmful beetles, that do much 
 mischief to our trees and vegetables. Their 
 young ones are wrapped up in little bundles, and 
 live for a while in the moist ground under the 
 trees, where the mulching is loose and rich. We 
 call these young beetles "grubs." It is these fat 
 little grubs the song-sparrows are after when you 
 see them scratching and pecking away in the 
 shade after you have irrigated the orchard. If 
 you watch closely, you will see the birds pick up 
 more than a mouthful, and the little insects will 
 drop out of the corners of the birds' beaks. 
 
58 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Song-sparrows seem never to know when they 
 have a beakful. We have seen them go on pick- 
 ing up the same grubs that have fallen out of 
 their mouths over and over again. And we laugh, 
 as who could help it! 
 
 Our song-sparrows nest two or three times, 
 from April to July. Then comes a sorry time for 
 the old birds. They begin their yearly molt. 
 They seem to know how droll they look, and keep 
 well out of sight in the bushes. When they ven- 
 ture out for food, you will notice how ragged 
 their feathers are, and how half-dressed they ap- 
 pear. Still, they chirp cheerily, as if sure of a 
 new suit in good time. And when the new suit 
 is all done, some time in September, it will be all 
 dots and dashes, like buttons, and lace edging, 
 and brown and white ribbons. 
 
 The song-sparrow seems fitted to be a school- 
 house-bird, because it is always on hand when 
 school keeps. A pile of tree-cuttings under the 
 window, and branches of any bush or shrub, 
 would make just the shelter they love. The spar- 
 rows do not slip under boards or behind boxes 
 and barrels when they are startled. They like 
 partial shelter like the twigs, so they may see out 
 between the sticks and foliage and look around 
 without being seen themselves. You might try 
 
THE SONG-SPARROW. 59 
 
 sowing lettuce-seeds in the loosened ground be- 
 fore you place the pile of twigs. You could 
 sprinkle through the boughs in summer and keep 
 the place moist, so the lettuce could grow. A 
 row of children could sit around this "sparrow's 
 corner" and study their ways. 
 
THE BELTED KINGFISHER. 
 
 HIS beautiful bird is called the 
 king of the fishers. It is resi- 
 dent in all California. It may 
 be seen around inland streams, 
 especially mill-races, and along 
 the sea-coast. Its head seems to be 
 much too large for its body. But 
 the kingfisher has use for its head, 
 as the woodpecker has good use for his. The 
 woodpecker's head is his hammer for driving his 
 beak into the trees. The head of the kingfisher 
 drives its beak into the water for the fish upon 
 which it lives. The bill of the kingfisher is its 
 pike, with which it captures its food. It is the 
 bird's spear, and it goes straight to the unlucky 
 fish sporting in the water. And the kingfisher's 
 
 eye is as sharp and strong 
 as its beak, for it is able 
 to see its food through 
 dark and muddy water, 
 as well as in the clearest 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 disgorge- 
 
 Reason for 
 
 ment. 
 
 Habits of fishes. 
 Cruelty of stringing flsh 
 
 alive. 
 
 streams. 
 
 60 
 
THE BELTED KINGFISHER. 61 
 
 In no other way can the kingfisher get a living 
 but by fishing. You may be out for a walk, with 
 eyes and ears open, and you will see the fisher 
 sitting silently on the limb of a tree by the edge 
 of the water. He does not stir a feather. He 
 
 THE BELTED KINGFISHER. 
 
 scarcely blinks his eyes. He might be a stuffed 
 bird set up on a bough. Suddenly, quicker than 
 your eye can follow, he darts straight into the 
 water, head foremost. 
 
 Now, if the king had a head like a thrush or a 
 warbler, he would make a failure at fishing. But 
 his strong, thick skull follows the tip of his beak 
 
62 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 wherever it goes, and when next you see him, a 
 fish lies crosswise in his mouth. The fish strug- 
 gles to get away. It has neither beak nor claws 
 to fight its own battles, and can only squirm help- 
 lessly. You are sorry for the fish, who has its 
 own good times, free in the water; but you know 
 the little blue king is very hungry, and must be 
 excused for getting his dinner in his own fashion. 
 
 Straight to the tree he just left flies the king, 
 and you notice the water runs off from his sleek 
 head and back. Never a bit wet gets the king- 
 fisher. His plumage is thick and well oiled. 
 
 Once on the tree, the fisherman beats his fish 
 against a branch, as the phoebe-bird and the 
 mocker beat the grasshopper and the butterfly. 
 We call it a " natural death " for both fish and 
 insect. The king is certainly a more merciful 
 fisher than the man who strings his fish and car- 
 ries them about until they die by slow degrees. 
 When the fish lies limp across his beak, the fisher 
 gives it a toss, and down it goes, whole, by way of 
 the bird's thick neck. Later, the bones will come 
 up in hard little pellets. 
 
 A kingfisher always manages to dive straight 
 down into the water, never at a slant. He may 
 be obliged to fly out a little way to do so, but he 
 comes down straight. We suppose this is to avoid 
 
THE BELTED KINGFISHER. 63 
 
 making a shadow on the water. Fish are quick 
 and shy. They are afraid of a shadow. You 
 may see this for yourselves by walking along the 
 bank where minnows are sunning themselves in 
 the clear water. If you are between the fish and 
 the sun, your shadow will frighten the fish, and 
 they will scurry under the nearest rock. If you 
 approach from the other bank, you do not disturb 
 them. 
 
 If the kingfisher is a king, then his wife must 
 be a queen, though she goes by her mate's name, 
 just as a pair of phoebes are each known by the 
 name of Phoebe. 
 
 Both birds take a hand at the nest-building, or 
 rather at the nest-digging. They select a suit- 
 able place on the face of a clay or sandy bank, 
 and dig with their beaks. Here they make good 
 use of their large, heavy heads again. As they 
 dig, they push the loose earth out and down be- 
 hind them. If you have the good luck to come 
 011 a pair at work, you will see the dirt rattling 
 down the cliff side. One bird digs until it is 
 tired, and then its mate lends a hand, or we 
 should say a beak. In this way a tunnel six or 
 eight feet long is made in the earth wall. Just 
 how long, it is hard to say. It is safe to say it is 
 some longer than a boy's arm, as the boy will find 
 
64 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 out should he attempt to measure it with the in- 
 tention to steal the eggs or young ones. The boy 
 will hardly reach the nest-chamber, but he will 
 go far enough to wish he had n't tried. King- 
 fishers often line their tunnels and the nest- 
 chambers with bones and things they have swal- 
 lowed, which their stomachs have no use for. Of 
 course, these things decay, and make a very un- 
 pleasant odor, as well as disagreeable stuff to 
 handle. 
 
 The kingfishers dig their tunnels sloping up- 
 ward, so the rain from above, soaking down 
 through the soil, will run out and not drown the 
 young birds. When the tunnel is long enough, 
 the mother lays as many eggs as the space at the 
 end will hold, there may be six or eight, and 
 here the birdlings are hatched, quite naked. 
 They are fed on the best fish to be caught, and 
 grow rapidly. In a few days they get their first 
 coats of feathers. Most swimming and diving 
 birds have a coat of down all their lives, under 
 their outside feathers. It keeps them warm. 
 
 Kingfishers are said to keep the same nesting- 
 place for years, where they are not disturbed. Of 
 course, they must have a house-cleaning at times, 
 else the tunnels would get filled with litter. As 
 to this, we need not bother ourselves, for the king- 
 fishers know their own business. 
 
THE BELTED KINGFISHER. 65 
 
 Should the young birds be taken from the dark, 
 snug nest, they will creep into any hole, as the 
 baby woodpeckers do, up your sleeve, into your 
 shoes, under a board, or into a crack. However, 
 it is no easy matter to get the young. The old 
 birds will tumble along the ground, and make be- 
 lieve they are drowning in the edge of the water, 
 until they have taken you far from the nest, when 
 they will suddenly fly away with that loud, rat- 
 tling scream of theirs. This loud scream is the 
 only song of the kingfishers, even in their court- 
 ing days. They probably think it is musical. 
 
 They are said to be fond of slow, solemn music. 
 Sailors make it for them, the birds sitting in the 
 ship's rigging, looking gravely down on the deck 
 and listening. Sailors and fishermen tame the 
 birds by tossing fish to them. The kingfishers 
 return at the same hour each day, either to the 
 sea-beach or the boat's side, just as our garden- 
 birds return for their meals to the table we set for 
 them. 
 
 In some parts of England, the country people 
 have a strange sort of weather-cock in their houses. 
 They skin a kingfisher and stuff the skin with 
 spices, leaving it to dry in the sun. Then they 
 tie it by its beak to the rafter overhead, in their 
 humble homes, so it can. turn freely about. They 
 
 W.S. R. VOL. 9 5 
 
DO WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 say the breast of the bird always turns to meet the 
 wind. Of course, any bird stuffed and dried, and 
 hung by its beak to the rafter, would turn breast 
 to the wind. It is on the same principle that 
 your windmill set up on the woodshed turns face 
 to the wind. 
 
THE CALIFORNIA JAY. 
 
 VERYBODY is acquainted with 
 the blue jay, and a jay of a fel- 
 low he is. When you meet a 
 man that is sly, cunning, inquis- 
 itive about matters that do not 
 concern him, that man is called 
 a "jay." He is like the blue jay. 
 
 This bird is neither shrike, nor crow, nor wood- 
 pecker, and yet he is like each of them in many 
 ways. But he is more like himself than anybody 
 else. In spite of all we shall have to say against 
 him, we are very fond of him. Let anybody 
 who lives on the edge of the woods take to study- 
 ing these strange birds, and they will get both 
 profit and pleasure. And the more one finds out 
 about the jay, the more will he learn about some 
 other birds and little crea- 
 
 t ureg REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 The voice of the blue Camplngr ^ 
 
 Methods of hunting 
 
 jay is often soft and musi- game. 
 
 Cal, though he has the Necessity for keeping 
 
 quiet. 
 
 name of being harsh of I 
 

 - - 
 
 V " 
 
 V ,:.: 
 
{ UNIVERSITY } 
 
 V OF / 
 
 THE CALIFORNIA JAY. 69 
 
 tone. The fact is, he can be both harsh and ten- 
 der, as the mood strikes him. He may shriek 
 like a hawk, or whine like a little hurt bird. He 
 loves to mimic all the other birds in distress, and 
 often sets up quite a panic among them. 
 
 On account of his voice, the blue jay is not 
 liked by the hunters. The moment the hunter 
 comes in sight, blue jay gives the alarm. It is of 
 no use for the hunter to think he can slip along 
 through the trees and not be heard or seen. Jay 
 has a sharp eye and ear. He is the policeman, 
 and the fire-bell, and the signal-whistle, and the 
 alarm clock, and the " call to arms." A lone man 
 with a gun is creeping through the brush. Jay 
 gives a cry of "Look out there! Danger ahead 
 and all around!" Instantly the towhees, and 
 road-runners, and quail slip under the bushes and 
 lie as still as mice; while the finches, and wrens, 
 and warblers seek the cover of thick-topped trees. 
 
 No one in sight but the blue jay, who sits on 
 his tree and looks innocently at the hunter! Of 
 course, the hunter takes a good aim at the telltale, 
 but he does n't hit him once in a dozen times. 
 Blue jay knows the muzzle of a gun from the butt 
 of it, and which way the two point; and he is up 
 and off before the hunter can pull the trigger. 
 Back goes the disappointed hunter to camp, with 
 
70 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 no bird for breakfast, so he sits down to canned 
 codfish or chipped beef. Ten to one, the jay is 
 there before him, hidden in the tree above his 
 head, and waiting for the crumbs. Blue jays are 
 very fond of the company of hunters. There are 
 scraps of food always about the camp. 
 
 It is a fact that when in camp the average 
 hunter does not shoot at the jay. He likes to 
 have the bird about in the lonely woods for com- 
 pany. These curious birds are seen to slip under 
 the flap of the tent and carry off crackers, or 
 meat, or cheese. And one jay was seen to steal 
 the mush from the kettle while it was cooking, 
 nor did it seem to burn its mouth. Sometimes 
 they take things they have no use for, and hide 
 them, as if from pure mischief. 
 
 It may not be all in kindness to the birds that the 
 jay warns them of an intruder. The fact is, he 
 likes to have the smaller birds about him to sup- 
 ply his needs. Jay likes eggs, and how could his 
 market be supplied without the birds? No one 
 knows just how many eggs the jay eats for his 
 breakfast, unless it be himself. Probably he de- 
 stroys as many as he eats. The helpless spurred 
 towhee stands by and lifts its beautiful wings and 
 pleads with blue jay to leave "just one"; but to 
 no purpose. When he is done, he flies away, 
 
THE CALIFORNIA JAY. 71 
 
 leaving the pretty fragments all over the ground. 
 You may see them when you are taking a walk in 
 the woods, and wonder how they came there. 
 
 In justice to blue jay, we should say that he is 
 no worse than the rest of us who like birds' eggs 
 for breakfast. The difference is, we take eggs 
 from the nest of a big tame bird we call "hen," 
 and cook them. Jay takes his eggs from smaller 
 birds, and eats them uncooked. 
 
 The birds that have been robbed usually have 
 time to make another nest, and lay more eggs be- 
 fore winter; and they have better luck, let us 
 hope. Most of our birds do nest several times in 
 a season to make up for losses, you see. Sly little 
 chipmunk evens up matters with the jay when he 
 comes across a jay's nest in a tree. He, too, likes 
 eggs for breakfast. 
 
 When nesting season is over, and there are no 
 more eggs for eating, chipmunk, and gray squir- 
 rel, and blue jay turn farmers for the public good. 
 These three friends of the Golden State plant 
 more seeds in a year than a hundred men could 
 plant in twice the time. And they do not ask a 
 penny of wages for their trouble. They simply 
 want a good time when the fruit and grain are 
 ripe. It is as if they say to our farmers, " If you 
 will let us have some of your crops, just our 
 
72 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 little share, you know, we will see that the 
 mountains that were burned bare last year are 
 all replanted." And they do set to work in good 
 earnest. 
 
 Two blue jays have been seen to dig holes and 
 plant, firmly and well, fifty acorns and other for- 
 est nuts in less than one hour. 
 
 Blue jay watches from his tree when chipmunk 
 and squirrel are doing the planting, and as soon 
 as their backs are turned, he scampers to the 
 place and digs the seeds and nuts all up. Then 
 he plants them over again to his own liking, in 
 another place. In this way do our birds and lit- 
 tle animals keep the forest-ground plowed and 
 raked and planted, and we should thank them, 
 one and all. 
 
 Blue jay does a good turn for the farmer in eat- 
 ing as many grasshoppers as he can stow away. 
 When he has had his fill, he spends whole days 
 chugging more grasshoppers into holes and cracks 
 for his future use. We suppose it is for his future 
 use! But it is doubtful if he ever see his savings 
 again. It is more from his natural love of hiding 
 things, that he stores away anything. Surely, the 
 nuts and seeds planted by him are never half 
 eaten. 
 
 True, he might have need of them, were there 
 
THE CALIFORNIA JAY. 73 
 
 long seasons in California when food is scarce. 
 But our wild birds may always find enough in 
 their travels, if not in one place, in another. If 
 there are no seeds on the trees, there are buds. 
 And buds are as good as seeds to the birds. 
 
AUDUBON'S WARBLER. 
 
 OMETIMES this beautiful bird is 
 called the Western yellowrump, 
 on account of the bright yellow 
 patch just above the tail. You 
 will notice it when the bird 
 is flying. Like many another 
 songster, Audubon's warbler 
 must be observed both in flight and at rest, would 
 you be certain as to its true colors.- And the time 
 of year makes a little difference. In the spring, 
 the yellows and blacks are clearer and brighter in 
 the male. It is one of the largest of all the war- 
 bler family, and we have it everywhere in Califor- 
 nia in winter-time. 
 
 It is fearless, coining and going with its cheer- 
 ful chirp, making the 
 dullest day full of sun- 
 beams. It is up before 
 you, and while you are at 
 breakfast, looks for its own 
 meal on the wire screen 
 outside your window. 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 Hibernation of insects. 
 Scale insects on fruit- 
 trees. 
 
 Spraying and poisons. 
 Lady-bugs. 
 Mallow "clieeses/' 
 
 75 
 
76 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 Yesterday it was wanner, and the house-flies 
 thought spring had come, and they forgot to go 
 to bed in the woodshed or barn loft. So the war- 
 blers catch them napping on a cold morning on 
 the house-screens. The flies are so chilled, they 
 do not feel the cold nor the snap of the bird's 
 beaks. 
 
 This very morning, a couple of warblers are 
 snatching flies from the windows, holding to the 
 wire with one foot, while they stop to look about 
 them. Bang they go to another wire screen! 
 We sometimes leave the window up in the after- 
 noon on purpose for the flies to feel the warmth 
 from the inside. So we tempt them to remain all 
 night. Warblers cannot live without meat. 
 
 People are often puzzled when they see the 
 warblers flying against the screens. We are 
 often asked, "What is the name of those little 
 birds that try so hard to get in the window every 
 morning? " 
 
 Sometimes our cold spell lasts a long while, 
 and the flies are numb in their hiding-places. 
 Then warbler has his wits about him, and shows 
 you what a good hunter he is. There are loose 
 shingles on the roofs, and shrunken timbers 
 about the gables. Here is just where spiders, and 
 flies, and moths are hiding themselves, intending 
 
77 
 
 to come out when the weather gets warmer. And 
 there are eggs too, spiders' eggs, done up in 
 nice packages, waiting for the warm days of 
 spring to hatch them out. Warbler darts along, 
 at home always on his clinging toes, and peeps 
 into every secret nook, pecking with his sharp 
 beak, and bringing out the hideaways against 
 their will. 
 
 The tin spouting under the eaves is his great- 
 est delight. Leaves, and summer dust, and litter 
 from everywhere have blown into the roof-gut- 
 ters, and have not yet been washed out by the 
 rains. Indeed, no rain is able to wash them 
 quite away; it simply packs the litter into a nice 
 warm bed for insects that like to be covered up 
 this way. Nature is very kind and motherly! 
 She covers up her children. Warbler, thinking 
 only of his appetite, goes along, now on foot and 
 now on wing, arid chirps while he finds out 
 things. 
 
 When the eaves, and spouting, and window- 
 screens have been inquired into, away goes the 
 investigator to the orchard. Of course we left 
 those yellow persimmons and rosy apples on the 
 top boughs on purpose for the birds. Warbler 
 spies them, and clings in his usual fashion, with 
 one set of toes, while he looks at the landscape 
 
78 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 around him. He bites again and again, nor does 
 the last taste pucker his mouth. He knows better 
 than to take puckery persimmon rind. To be 
 sure, he did tear off a bit at first, but if you were 
 watching, you would see him toss it away, and 
 peck out the soft ripe inner part, exactly as you 
 do yourself. Birds do not eat fruit rinds. Their 
 beaks are made on purpose to tear holes in tough 
 skins, as well as to crack seeds and hard-shelled 
 beetles. 
 
 You sometimes wonder why the birds do not 
 finish eating a fig or a peach or a persimmon be- 
 fore they bite another. The truth is, they do eat 
 their fill at first and fly away. No sooner are 
 their backs turned, than along come the honey- 
 bees, who fly in California the whole year. Now, 
 the bee cannot tear open the skin of any fruit. 
 Its tongue is made to sip with, not to dig or bite. 
 So the bees smell the juice of the fruit the birds 
 have left, and take possession, sipping all around 
 the edges, as you may see. When the birds re- 
 turn to the tree, they pick a fresh fruit, and in a 
 moment they leave that one for the bees. You 
 will not see birds and bees eating the same peach 
 or fig at the same time. 
 
 When warbler is done with his persimmon, he 
 flies to the alfalfa-patch and swings on the winter 
 
AUDUBON'S WARBLER. 79 
 
 seed-sterns. The weeds have grown since last 
 fall's mowing, and gone to nothing but wrinkles 
 and empty seed-pods. The seed-pods are gaping 
 open, making snug little hiding-places for insects. 
 
 Warbler turns somersaults, pecking into these 
 tiny rifts and wrinkles for the insects. 
 
 Then you may catch him eating the belated 
 "cheeses" of the mallow which every Californian 
 child has tasted for himself. From the cheeses 
 he goes to the banana stalks. The wilted edges 
 of last year's leaves are keeping insects warm, and 
 he hunts them out. He hunts in the narrow 
 leaves of the carnations for lice folk. And then 
 he flies to the tall blue-gum trees and makes a 
 supper on the tender white stamens of the blos- 
 soms. Audubon's warblers are fond of sweet pre- 
 serves from our table. We fed them many a 
 saucer of quince last winter, and there is more in 
 the cellar for this winter. Indeed, it is seldom 
 that a jar of preserves is opened at our house, that 
 a good portion is not set out for the birds. 
 
 Audubon's warblers are friends of the Cali- 
 fornian farmer. This very morning, we saw a 
 couple of them take the black scale from a pep- 
 per-bough that hung over the path, lifting the 
 dark shells very carefully to get at the point. 
 Under the black shells or scales are eggs, and 
 
80 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 young insects, and old ones, all of which are good 
 eating for warblers. We examined the branch 
 when the birds had taken their leave, and not a 
 single live scale was left. 
 
 If the birds of winter were better understood, 
 the ranchers of California would welcome them. 
 Many of the titmouses, as well as these warblers, 
 live occasionally upon the scales that infest the 
 orange trees. 
 
 Audubon's warblers are sometimes seen with 
 the blackbirds on the ground in corrals and barn- 
 yards. The blackbirds disturb grubs and other 
 good things which the warblers love to get hold 
 of. In fact, the warblers are always on the look- 
 out for things to be disturbed. An old house 
 was being torn down. The shingles and the 
 boarding were decayed, and they parted at the 
 touch of the workman's hammer. The hammer 
 dropped, and the workman went down the ladder 
 to get it. In his short absence, as if they had 
 been on the watch for the opportunity, the war- 
 blers took possession of the torn roof and feasted 
 on insects. The man stood on the lower rung of 
 the ladder and watched the hurried breakfast. 
 
 Though their feet are not formed for long 
 walks, these birds are often on the ground; 
 always, however, with wings atilt, ready to snatch 
 the nearest gnat in the air. 
 
AUDUBON S WARBLER. 
 
 81 
 
 They are commonly gentle among themselves; 
 but we have seen them "scrap" in the early 
 morning. They would whirl on wing, grapple, 
 and fall. Once on the ground, they closed in 
 with beak and claw until exhausted. And there 
 
 YOUNG YELLOW WARBLER. 
 
 they lay, panting, limp on their backs, looidng as 
 angry as a pair of little bantams; only bantams 
 never do turn over on their backs. Just as we 
 were sure we had them, away they flew to the 
 cornice, where the*y preened their ruffled coats 
 and looked as if the climate did n't agree with 
 them. 
 
 We have this beautiful bird in California from 
 September to April, when it goes north to nest. 
 
 W. S. K. VOL. 9 6 
 
82 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 It does not fear to build near homes, though it 
 frequently chooses a site far from habitations. 
 The nest is large and firmly made, usually set on 
 the branch of a tree six or ten feet from the 
 ground. It is said to be very handsome, with its 
 twigs and everlasting-weed, and hairs and root- 
 lets. The eggs are usually four, greenish white, 
 with dots and dashes of red, brown, or lavender. 
 The old birds are said to share the habit of many 
 parent birds, in dragging themselves along the 
 ground and making believe they are wounded 
 when the nest is approached. After all, it may 
 be but little loss to us that these warblers do not 
 live with us the year round, as we now have them 
 in winter, when many other birds have left us. 
 And they are among the most pleasing of all the 
 birds. Their habits are an interesting study. 
 What we owe to their sharp little black beaks and 
 toes, nobody can quite tell. Without these birds, 
 our best trees might be ruined by the beetle folk 
 which live between the bark and the wood, bur- 
 rowing long tunnels in which to have a good time 
 of their own. Note how warbler runs up and 
 down, peeping under the loose bark, clinging to 
 dead little stems, and " pecking at nothing," as 
 far as we may see. But he knows his own trade 
 full well, and his ear is as sharp as his eye. He 
 
AUDUBON'S WARBLER. 83 
 
 can hear a beetle sawing away at its business be- 
 neath the tree bark as easily as you hear a knock 
 on your door. As to the song of Audubon's war- 
 bler, it is short and pleasing, though rather weak. 
 Perhaps the bird is too eager to snatch flies in 
 midair, to quite finish any song it begins. 
 
THE MOCKING-BIRD. 
 
 HE MOCKING-BIRD is called 
 the prince of Californian birds. 
 He is rather lordly, and some 
 think him a tyrant. He scolds 
 when he has to, but more to hear his 
 own voice than to harm any one. He 
 likes to "look cross" at the other birds and see 
 them dodge into the bushes. He does n't usually 
 u mean anything" by it; for they come out of their 
 hiding-places and eat from the same tree or bush 
 or garden-table with that selfsame mocker that 
 scolded them. 
 
 As soon as his little fit of temper is over, away 
 flies the mocker to the 
 chimney top and makes 
 apologies in his sweetest 
 notes to all the birds he 
 scolded so. And if a dog 
 or cat or hawk puts in an 
 appearance, he is the first 
 to give the alarm, following 
 the enemy, without fear for 
 
 84 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Cats as enemies of young 
 birds. 
 
 How cats catch their 
 prey. 
 
 "Why lizards drop their 
 tails when caught. 
 
 " Glass-snakes." 
 
 Horned toads. 
 
 Climate as affecting dis- 
 tribution of animals. 
 
THE MOCKING-BIRD. 85 
 
 his own safety. Dogs and cats sometimes make 
 believe they do not care for the mocker, but really 
 they do hate him more than any bird. He is 
 more than a match for them. 
 
 We know of a pet house-cat whose back was 
 made very sore by repeated attacks of the mock- 
 ers whose nest was in the vine above the door. 
 
 MOCKING-BIRD. 
 
 If the cat ventured out by daylight, though ever 
 so slyly, the parent mockers flew at him with such 
 cunning rage, that he sought the first cover in 
 sight. One bird attacked the cat on one side, 
 while its mate slipped up on the other and gave 
 a pull at the fur. In due time, the cat, with a 
 
86 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 very sore back, concluded it was no match for the 
 mockers, and was satisfied to lick its milk under 
 the kitchen-table with just a glance out of doors. 
 
 You will notice that most dogs run in a cow- 
 ardly fashion from a mocker, as if four feet and a 
 wide-open mouth were no match for a pair of 
 wings and a beak that can close very suddenly 
 over a pinch of hair. 
 
 We have had our own hair pulled many a time 
 by the mockers, and it hurts. The birds have a 
 way of slipping up from behind one, giving the 
 hair a tweak, and dodging out of reach. They 
 never do attack an intruder from before. 
 
 Perhaps it is on account of their watchfulness 
 about the grounds, that other birds put up with 
 so much scolding from the mockers. They seem 
 to love their company, and are sure to nest in any 
 garden where the mockers live. The young of 
 other birds are not molested nor scolded by the 
 mockers, even in their Grossest moods, and for 
 this reason, if for no other, we love them. To be 
 sure, if a linnet brings her young ones to the 
 garden-table before mother mocker has fed her 
 own little ones as much gingerbread as they can 
 swallow, mocker says, "Go away!" in pretty loud 
 tones. But she never harms her neighbors' chil- 
 dren. 
 
THE MOCKING-BIRD. 87 
 
 In the spring you may track the mockers to 
 any bush or tree in which they are building their 
 nest. Not by the print of their feet in mud, by 
 any means, for mockers do not walk in the mud, 
 nor have anything to do with mud at nesting- 
 time, like the robins and swallows. We track them 
 by the white twine they drop from their beaks as 
 they go to the nest. If they get a piece too long, 
 it tangles in the shrubbery, and is left there. 
 The mocker's nest is begun with sticks or coarse 
 straws and finished with twine or soft roots and 
 grasses. We place strings all about for them in 
 our garden, which they learn to expect. But we 
 cannot induce them to take colored twine. They 
 will use only white, just as the towhee will use 
 only white rags. The reason for this is explained 
 in the chapter on the towhee. 
 
 Two pairs of mockers have nested in our 
 grounds for several years. They are with us 
 summer and winter; in winter, because we do not 
 forget to set the garden-table. 
 
 Young mockers will not remain in the nest 
 longer than they can see over the brim. They 
 climb out, and drop in a helpless way to the 
 ground. Then they begin to cry, and that tells 
 all the cats and bad boys and the good little 
 girls in the neighborhood. The cats catch what 
 
88 
 
 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 they deserve if we see them in our garden ; as 
 for the boys, we try to teach them better, or take 
 up their attention some w T ay until the good little 
 
 YOUNG MOCKING-BIRD. 
 
 girls have a chance to pick up the crying young 
 birds. 
 
 Young birds can be trusted to the girls and 
 some boys. You can place them up in a tangled 
 shrub, never back in the nest, for they will tum- 
 ble right out again. The best way is to keep an 
 eye on the little things by day, and put them out 
 of reach at night, in your own house perhaps. 
 
 Young mockers get their feathers very early, 
 and are soon able to keep out of harm's way. 
 
THE MOCKING-BIRD. 89 
 
 However, more are lost every year than live to 
 grow up. 
 
 Some people grudge the mockers the berries 
 they eat, but we plant a whole row on purpose for 
 them and other birds. Raspberries are good food 
 for young birds, and a pair of our mockers bring 
 up their children on them every spring. It may 
 not put money in our pockets to plant a row of 
 berries for the birds, but it puts food in the birds' 
 mouths and makes a sociable time. One can but 
 laugh to see the parent birds fly up and bring 
 down the tip of a swaying branch of berries and 
 hold it while the little birds peck off the fruit. 
 While one laughs at the birds, one may get the 
 idea that money in one's pocket is no better than 
 a kind thought in one's mind. 
 
 We are well paid for these little attentions to 
 the mocker's family. We are treated to free con- 
 certs almost every night in the year. By day, he 
 sings, as well, but he spends some of his time 
 in listening to the other birds, so he may surprise 
 them with a rehearsal of their own songs at mid- 
 night. 
 
 The song of the mocking-bird is a mimic of all 
 the sweet songs he hears, but he does not forget 
 to go over the droll sounds which have little 
 music in them. The chickens and turkeys may 
 
90 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 wake you crying in the treetop, and you may 
 catch the sound of a squeaking wheelbarrow, or 
 the postman's whistle, or even a young rooster 
 just learning his first crow. A bird in our gar- 
 den has learned to mimic the graphophone very 
 well, giving the metallic ring. 
 
 Of course, this nightly serenade annoys ner- 
 vous people who want to sleep, and they say 
 harsh things about the bird, behind his back. 
 But mocker goes on with his songs, just as if 
 everybody spoke well of him. If he thinks about 
 the matter at all, he may conclude that a person 
 might as well go on with his duty and pleasure 
 without stopping to care what other folks think of 
 him. 
 
 The food of the mocking-birds is mostly in- 
 sects. They are expert fly-catchers, and will take 
 a butterfly on the wing or a grasshopper on the 
 jump quicker than a wink. They hunt for grubs 
 under the trees, and for fruit in the trees. They 
 get up early in the morning before our great, 
 striped Jerusalem crickets have gone back into 
 their holes. It is of no use for cricket to turn 
 over on his back when he sees a mocker coming 
 along; he may strike out his six legs and toes in 
 a very savage manner, after the custom of sand- 
 crickets, but he cannot frighten the mocker. 
 
THE MOCKING-BIRD. 91 
 
 Mocking-birds are fond of crickets' claws. They 
 are also fond of lizards' tails. Indeed, lizards 
 grow several new tails during the summer on 
 purpose for the mockers to eat. Lizard is chased 
 by a bird, and runs under the nearest log, forget- 
 ting to take his tail in after him. The tip of that 
 nice tail just sticking from under the log is all 
 the cunning bird was after, anyway, and off it 
 goes into its beak. Not that mocker pulls it off. 
 O no! The lizard lets go of its tail when it feels 
 a pinch, as if to say, "Take it if you want it." 
 Lizard does n't mind the loss, and in the course 
 of a month his new tail-tip will be ready for 
 another supper for the mocker or the robin. 
 
 Our little friend from San Diego writes that the 
 mockers watch for the new milk to be brought in 
 at night, arid he sets a cupful up on a post for 
 them. They drink it with as much relish as a 
 kitten. We have also fed them milk, but they 
 like it best with sugar in it. All the birds we 
 feed have a " sweet tooth." The way to any bird's 
 heart is by his little stomach, and any child or 
 person may have the mockers near the house if 
 they will but feed them well. To be sure, our 
 mocking-birds are not seen around San Francisco 
 Bay, for reasons of their own, which we do not 
 understand. Birds are much like people who 
 
92 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 prefer certain parts of the country to live in. 
 And they do not always explain their reasons. 
 They leave many things for us to find out. Who 
 will find out the reason why mocking-birds do 
 not like to live around San Francisco Bay? But 
 everywhere in the southern and interior parts of 
 the state they are common. 
 
THE AMERICAN COOT. 
 
 |EW people call this interesting 
 bird by its correct name. It 
 has been dubbed "mud-hen" 
 for so long, that we forget it 
 has another and better name to 
 answer to. However, it seems to 
 have earned the name for itself 
 by its preference for muddy places. Another 
 name by which the bird is known is crow-duck. 
 It is nearly as black as a crow when seen in the 
 shadows of a swamp, and it swims like a duck 
 when on a pond. But you may see the difference 
 between a mud-hen and a duck by looking at the 
 feet of both. The coot is not web-footed in the 
 same fashion as the duck and the goose. Each 
 toe is separately webbed. Little short scallops of 
 web run around the whole length of each long toe. 
 This is sufficient web to 
 aid the bird in swimming, 
 but does not prevent its 
 being a good walker as 
 well. 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 Canvasback duck. 
 Wild ducks as game. 
 Feet of swimming birds. 
 Other marsh-birds. 
 
94 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Web-footed birds cannot 
 run rapidly; they "just 
 waddle," as you know well 
 enough by watching the 
 ducks in your yard. But the 
 mud-hen runs like a partridge, 
 and she takes to her legs in 
 preference to flying or swimming, COOT, OR MUD-HEN. 
 if you surprise her in the marshes, where she 
 loves to spend her time. The marsh is her 
 home, her children's nursery, her "native land." 
 
 On our coast, the coot nests in April and May. 
 The nests are usually floating rafts in the reeds 
 or on the water's edge. 
 
 Sometimes large settlements of coots take up a 
 low, boggy marsh and rear their families. The 
 bottom of the nest is of reeds and sticks, which 
 mother coot breaks with her beak and lays criss- 
 cross. The platform or bottom of the raft-nest is 
 strong and thick. As the work goes on, the nest 
 is hollowed into shape, and the reeds and grasses 
 are woven snugly together. Sometimes a nest is 
 placed in the protection of reeds or willow-stems, 
 so that it must remain in one place, like any 
 bird's nest. Sometimes it is placed on the water 
 and moored or fastened to long reeds or tules 
 bent over. In this case the young coots are born 
 
THE AMERICAN COOT. 95 
 
 in a house-boat. " When the wind blows, the 
 cradle will rock," and rise and fall, with mother 
 coot sitting calmly on her treasure. Once a nest 
 was seen to break from its moorings and float off 
 with mother mud-hen still on it. It was. as if she 
 had no other thought than to stay with her chil- 
 dren. And of children she has aplenty! She lays 
 as many eggs as your own biddy hen lays in the 
 hay-mow. The eggs are shaped like hen's eggs, 
 but are muddy white, dotted or splashed with 
 brown. As soon as the young are hatched, they 
 are ready for a swim, and away they go with the 
 mother, leaving the house-boat to take care of 
 itself, and to tell the boys exactly where to find 
 next year's coots. The young are very beautiful 
 in their thick coats of black down penciled with 
 bright orange. Their beaks are red, tipped with 
 black. They soon learn to hunt on their own ac- 
 count for slugs and snails, and to catch little 
 skaters and water-spiders in the margin of the 
 marsh. It is this habit of finding the most of 
 their food in mud and fresh- water marsh-ground 
 that has given the coot the popular name of mud- 
 hen. No matter if it is a rooster, we call it mud- 
 hen, exactly as we call the phcebe-bird "Phoebe," 
 be it male or female, old or young. 
 
 Should you get very hungry out hunting, and 
 
96 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 come across a good fat mud-hen, you need not be 
 afraid to cook it for supper. Still, most people 
 prefer other birds for eating. A hunter who 
 brought in a brace of coots would wish they were 
 duck; though, at times, when it eats mostly 
 watercress and wild celery, a mud-hen is declared 
 to be "just as good as canvasback," 
 
KILLDEER PLOVER. 
 
 HESE birds named themselves, 
 as many other birds have done, 
 by their loud call of " Killdeer, 
 killd eer ! " Would they keep still, 
 and not talk about themselves so 
 much, they would escape many 
 a hunter's game-bag. But "Killdeer, killdeer!" 
 comes from all around, and so the birds give them- 
 selves away. Game-birds should learn a lesson of 
 the hunters, who do not keep calling to one an- 
 other all the time. 
 
 This plove^r is fond of fresh water, and is not 
 seen on the sea-coast with its cousins, the snowy 
 plovers. It loves damp meadows and inland ponds 
 and marshes. The killdeer 
 has long, slender legs which 
 carry it through the marsh- 
 grass or the alfalfa-fields. 
 They look very droll, as if 
 they were " holding up 
 their skirts " for fear of 
 wetting them in the dew. 
 
 w. S.R. VOL. 97 97 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Feet and legs of -wading 
 birds. 
 
 Precocious young of 
 some birds. 
 
 Feigning lameness in 
 nesting-time. 
 
 Alfalfa raising and cur- 
 ing. 
 

KTLLDEER PLOVER. 99 
 
 If you find their feeding-grounds, and sit per- 
 fectly still in the early morning, you may have 
 the killdeer come very close to you. One could 
 watch them a long while every day, and not grow 
 tired. You will not see them in large flocks, but 
 in family groups or pairs. 
 
 The food of this plover is small animals, such 
 as snails, and slugs, and water-bugs, and worms, 
 in fact, any little insect or other animal that 
 lives in moist ground. They have a queer way 
 of listening with their beaks when the creatures 
 they wish to eat are underground. Little nerves 
 run down into the tip of the bill, so that it is sen- 
 sitive. When a killdeer wants to find out if a 
 worm is anywhere within hearing, it rests its 
 beak lightly on the ground, as if listening. It is 
 able to follow the sound it hears, and the beak 
 goes straight to the worm or insect. 
 
 If the bird is uncertain as to any food being in 
 the ground beneath her, she has an original way 
 of stamping her foot as hard as she can, when 
 up comes the object she is after. On this ac- 
 count, certain plovers are sometimes called 
 "stampers." Why any creature -comes up to the 
 surface of the ground when killdeer stamps its 
 foot, nobody knows. Perhaps it is from the wish 
 to be hospitable, as when a person answers a 
 knock at the door. 
 
100 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 The nest of the killdeer is very simple. It is 
 only a little depression in the ground, like a sau- 
 cer. 
 
 These birds like old driftwood and shore rub- 
 bish. There are many insects which killdeers 
 love to hunt in old wood of any kind. 
 
 The eggs are three, creamy white, dotted with 
 brown. The very day they are out of the shell, 
 the young birds are ready for a run along the 
 watercourses or the irrigating-ditches. They are 
 covered with thick down, the color of the ground, 
 so it is not easy for a person to catch sight of 
 them. If you come near one of them, it will 
 spread itself flat on the ground and keep still. 
 Suddenly, you may see the old mother killdeer a 
 rod away. She seems to be having a "fit" of 
 some sort. She flutters and drags her wings on 
 the ground, or holds one wing above her back, as 
 if in distress. She also cries and pants as if 
 wounded. 
 
 No one can find it in his heart to harm a 
 wounded bird, so, of course, you will stoop to 
 "pick up the poor thing," thinking you may be 
 "able to do something for her" when off she 
 goes. Then you laugh at yourself ! And you 
 wander back to the place where you first saw her, 
 and you hunt the ground all over for the young 
 
KILLDEER PLOVER. 101 
 
 killdeer which you are sure must be " somewhere 
 round." The best thing to do is to sit down and 
 keep as still as a mouse. After a while you may 
 see the little bird spring up from your very feet 
 and scamper off. 
 
 Our farmers like to have the killdeer live near- 
 by, especially if there be alfalfa-fields. After these 
 fields have been irrigated, these bird farm-hands 
 attend to their business of thinning out the insects 
 and snails. Why should not killdeer be fond of 
 snails, when they are considered a great dainty by 
 some of our own people in Europe and some parts 
 of America? 
 
 On account of this mention of our friends the 
 snails, you will probably take a second look at the 
 next one you see. 
 
THE WESTERN GULL. 
 
 is our common Calif ornian 
 gull, our own familiar bird, which 
 the law says " you shall not kill ! " 
 just as it says "you shall not kill 
 the turkey-buzzard." 
 
 The two birds are similar in 
 one respect: they are public bene- 
 factors. They seldom catch and kill their own 
 food. Because it is their business to "clean up 
 after other folks," they are protected at all times 
 of the 'year. 
 
 Our sea-gulls are always on the watch for a 
 "job in the cleaning-up business." But you must 
 not think for a moment that they are doing this 
 work for our sakes, or because they care a straw 
 whether or not any place 
 looks tidy. They are think- 
 ing of their own hunger, 
 and the quickest way of 
 satisfying it after their 
 own fashion. When the 
 sea goes away from the 
 
 103 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Scavengers. 
 Ocean breakers. 
 Fish-seining. 
 Oily feathers of water- 
 birds. 
 Oil-sacs and preening. 
 
104 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 beach in the morning, it always leaves its crumbs 
 on the shore, little shell-fish, and broken bits of 
 anything, including, now and then, fragments of 
 somebody's lunch, tossed the evening before into 
 the water. 
 
 So, the early morning is your best time to 
 watch the gulls. Go and sit stock-still by a boat 
 or heap of sand, and you will not be noticed by 
 the birds. Along will come the gulls before it is 
 broad daylight, to pick up their breakfast. They 
 are beautiful and graceful on the white sands, 
 pecking as they go, now and then flying out into 
 the surf to snatch some tidbit that is being 
 washed away. 
 
 The gulls are always spotlessly clean, their 
 lovely white heads glistening with the sea-water 
 bath. They like to perch on the little boats an- 
 chored in the bay. 
 
 You toss them a piece of bread, and they watch 
 for another. Gulls have learned that nobody 
 harms them; and they are tame, expecting food 
 of strangers. They are said to be very fond of 
 cheese, and have been known to return day after 
 day to a place where they have received this 
 choice morsel. 
 
 Where farms come close down to the sea, the 
 gulls are known to follow the plow, and to snatch 
 
THE WESTERN GULL. 105 
 
 the worms from the furrow close to the plowman's 
 heels. This is one of the few birds our farmers 
 have no dislike for. 
 
 They are not birds of long flight, but always 
 may be seen along shore and in harbors. They 
 love to visit ships and dine with the ship's crew. 
 Sailors are very fond of them when in port, and 
 entice the confiding birds as visitors. 
 
 Gulls seem very fond of the society of fisher- 
 men, on account of what their nets contain. 
 They watch for the return of the boats at day- 
 break, walking impatiently up and down the 
 sand, and flying out to meet them when the boats 
 come in sight. 
 
 When the fishermen drag out their nets from 
 the boat's bottom, and begin to dress their catch 
 for the markets, it is then you should watch the 
 gulls! They will snatch food almost from the 
 hands of the men, and by the time the fish is all 
 cleaned, the parts to be thrown away have dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 We stood on the beach at sunrise and tossed 
 bits of fish to the gulls. They had already break- 
 fasted and were sluggish from overeating; but the 
 sight of further supplies made them wish they 
 had room for more. 
 
 One great, handsome bird came near and 
 
106 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 watched the bit of fish as we tossed it out. It fell 
 on the sand. The gull pushed it out into the 
 water, but kept an. eye on it. Just as it was 
 going out with the tide, the gull ran in and 
 brought it back. It dropped it on the sand and 
 then pushed it down so the fingers of the tide 
 could just reach it. Then the bird ran in after it 
 again. The bird kept up this apparent sport for 
 a long while, and others joined the play. They 
 accepted several pieces of fish which we gave 
 them, and amused themselves until the morsels 
 were worn and torn into little shreds. This sport 
 of the gulls was very interesting, and since then 
 we have often given them scraps of food to play 
 with. 
 
 It is only when the fishermen bring in their 
 night's catch, however, that gulls seem to have 
 more than enough of anything to eat. 
 
 Of course, gull-flesh is not very good for eating; 
 still, some of the sea-beach people who live far 
 from market do use the birds for food, and de- 
 clare the meat "better than nothing." It has the 
 blending of fish-and-flesh flavor, not to one's 
 liking. 
 
 Our Western gull nests on the Santa Barbara 
 and Farallone islands, and at Catalina they have 
 taken possession of a large rock in the surf, 
 
THE WESTERN GULL. 107 
 
 which nobody else cares for. It is called Gull 
 Rock. 
 
 The eggs are three, placed on the bare rock or 
 ground. Parent gulls have a shrill, harsh cry at 
 nesting-time. This cry is answered by a whine 
 from the young ones. Young gulls do not get 
 their full plumage until they are two or three 
 years of age, but are dusky brown all over. On 
 this account, when you are watching a number of 
 gulls on the beach, you may think some of them 
 are another sort of bird. 
 
 Notice how lightly the gulls swim on the water! 
 Almost the whole bird is in sight, while many 
 other water-fowl swim with only the neck above 
 the surface. This is because their feathers are 
 very thick and the body very small. Really, gulls 
 are more than half plumage. This makes them 
 so light of weight, they sit, just touching the 
 water, riding in their own boat. 
 
 It is a pretty sight to see the gulls floating 
 around the pier close to the bobbing buoys. 
 They are watching for the cracker you are eating, 
 ready to snatch it when you drop it; and no 
 doubt they are watching the fish beneath them, 
 having a good time of their own, just out of reach 
 of the gulls, who are no divers. 
 
 Should an honest old pelican happen along on 
 
108 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 its way home, with a fish hanging out of its 
 mouth, and accidentally pass a gull, the gull 
 would most likely steal the fish. Old pelican 
 would have to go fishing again. But that is his 
 business. It is gull's business to get fish wher- 
 ever fish may be found out of deep water. 
 
DIFFERENT SPARROWS. 
 
 IHE fox -sparrow, the white- 
 crowned sparrow, and the 
 golden-crowned sparrow are win- 
 ter visitants in California. They 
 appear early in October, and leave 
 us in April, or earlier. 
 1^ The fox-sparrow is so named 
 on account of its foxy-red upper 
 plumage. It is a very beautiful bird, and comes 
 now and then to our garden-table with the other 
 sparrows; but it is more shy. Some winters we 
 see but two or three. It has a shorter and stouter 
 bill than the other sparrows, and larger, stronger 
 feet. It nests far north in Alaska, or in our high- 
 est mountains. Its habits are much like those of 
 all its comrade sparrows. 
 The song is very sweet, 
 and, once heard, will not 
 be forgotten. We never 
 see the young birds of the 
 fox-sparrows nor of the 
 crowned sparrows. They 
 
 109 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Migration of birds. 
 
 Origin of English spar- 
 row. 
 
 Introduction of animals 
 Into new countries. 
 
 Rabbits in Australia. 
 
110 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 are born and grow up in the far north, and are in 
 full plumage when we first see them. 
 
 The golden-crowns are not so numerous as the 
 white-crowns, but always we have a few of them. 
 
 THE FOX-SPARROW. 
 
 They do not sing so constantly with us as the 
 white-crowns. 
 
 The fox-sparrow and the golden-crowns do not 
 appear in large flocks, as do the white-crowns. 
 
 Of all the winter sparrows that come to us, we 
 love the white-crowns best. Some autumn morn- 
 ing in the garden, before the sun is well out of 
 his bed, we hear a sweet song, just five or six 
 
DIFFERENT SPARROWS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 notes, and we cry, "The white-crowns are here!" 
 But there is only one. The main flock is on the 
 way. 
 
 With most of our migratory birds, single individ- 
 
 WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. 
 
 uals appear ahead of the rest, for what purpose 
 we do not know. You will notice this with the 
 sparrows, and orioles, and bluebirds, and robins. 
 
 Perhaps it is two or three days before the first 
 flock of white-crowns are seen. Then there is a 
 sudden, glad song everywhere, and you feel like 
 staying out of school just to look and listen. It 
 would seem as if these birds are glad the long 
 
112 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 journey is over and they are home again for the 
 winter. 
 
 This year (1902) the white-crowns arrived in 
 southern California, September 25th. The scout 
 who came on ahead went straight to the garden- 
 table, as if he knew he would find it ready set. 
 And so he did. We were looking for him! 
 Always the white-crowns are fearless, and may be 
 seen on our door-steps. If you leave the door 
 open in the morning, they will come in. They 
 will look you in the face and sing. They are 
 said to sing all night in Alaska. Here, of course, 
 we never hear their best songs. 
 
 The crowned sparrows make their nests in the 
 frosty grass in the far north, a few inches above 
 the eternal ice on the cold meadows. Even there 
 insect food is abundant, though the warm sun of 
 summer does not thaw the ground many inches 
 beneath the surface. Beetles and other insects 
 wake up like their Eskimo neighbors, and come 
 out to see the daylight. It is then that the spar- 
 rows get them. Besides the insects, there are 
 fruits and seeds for sparrow-food. Last year's 
 cranberries are just thawing out of the mossy 
 meadows when the sparrows arrive from Cali- 
 fornia some time in April or May. These berries 
 are all the sweeter for their long winter under the 
 
DIFFERENT SPARROWS. 113 
 
 snow. Sparrows take their fill, and no doubt get 
 their faces stained with the red juices, just as they 
 stain their yellow lips with the molasses we set 
 out on the table for them here. 
 
 YOUNG CHIPPING SPARROWS. 
 
 Yes, we feed black molasses to our sparrows, 
 and it is a droll sight to see them try to eat it at 
 first. They cannot pick it up like crumbs, nor 
 drink it like water. But they soon learn how to 
 eat it in their own fashion. It sticks to their 
 beaks and faces until they have dipped their 
 heads in the water-dish. 
 
 Sparrows have a way of washing their faces after 
 meals, as any one may see. Watch and see them 
 
 W.S. R. VOL. 9 8 
 
114 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 dip first the beak and the face and whole head in 
 the water and shake it off until all the table is 
 well sprinkled. 
 
 You cannot enjoy the winter sparrows without 
 a garden -table. A schoolhouse window -shelf 
 would do for them, placed high out of reach, but 
 in sight from the inside. But there is danger of 
 our turning the schoolhouse into an aviary if we 
 go on. Better place the table in the grounds, and 
 respect the rights of the birds to that particular 
 corner. 
 
 There is one sparrow that has not yet come 
 farther south in California than Fresno. We do 
 not want to see him. Still, should he come, we 
 will try to make the best of it. It will be of no 
 use to object to his company! It will do no good 
 to start out to "kill him off!" When he comes, 
 he will come to stay. That is the English spar- 
 row. 
 
 Scarcely any one had a good word to say for 
 the English sparrows, until it was discovered that 
 they were fond of the seventeen-year locusts. 
 Then the farmers began to praise them. Their 
 good appetites were talked about as if they were 
 virtues, and the boys quit robbing their nests. 
 But the locusts were soon gone, and the farmers 
 have forgotten what they owe the sparrows. So 
 the birds are persecuted again. 
 
OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY j 
 
 V OF y 
 
 ^^^UJFORN'- 
 DIFFERENT SPARROWS. 115 
 
 It does no good to any one for a person to 
 "hate" any bird. Hate makes the heart hard, 
 and before you know it, you will be hating other 
 birds than the English sparrow. To make the 
 best of a bad bargain, and to turn the little Eng- 
 lish sparrow to some account in the world, let us 
 "eat him all up." In this way we should come 
 to love him in spite of ourselves. But by no 
 cruel methods, mind! Give him a quick short cut 
 to the Land of Nowhere, and all will be well. We 
 are something like sparrows ourselves; we think 
 we must have our meat! And sparrow, roasted, 
 broiled, or stewed, is a dish for a king. It is just 
 the diet for sick people and babies. Little chil- 
 dren who do not take kindly to other food thrive 
 on sparrow broth and eggs. 
 
 Sparrow's eggs! Why, you can coax a sparrow- 
 hen to lay right along, just like any biddy-hen in 
 the barn-yard. 
 
 You must quit scaring the birds to the high 
 roof gables and out-of-reach places. Place straws 
 about the balconies and door and window sills, 
 and watch what happens. The sparrows will take 
 to egg-laying for all summer long, and stay right 
 in one place. You can gather the eggs every 
 day, always leaving a nest-egg, and the mother 
 bird will supply the home market. You can 
 
116 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 easily see that by this method there will be very 
 few young birds, and the sparrows will become 
 more domesticated year by year. 
 
 The custom of driving them into distant and 
 high places to nest is all wrong. We had a friend 
 in the East who made a beautiful portiere, or cur- 
 tain, for her parlor, of English sparrow's eggs. 
 They were blown, and strung on silk cord. 
 
 The children of the city streets who have so 
 little space for home, and see the dark side of 
 every-day life, could get both profit and pleasure 
 from the sparrows. City hospitals could convert 
 their high window-ledges into little farm-yards 
 for the benefit and pleasure of the sick. One 
 could have eggs for breakfast by just opening the 
 window. Foundling hospitals could be supplied 
 with the most nourishing food for the little or- 
 phans. It would be better for school children to 
 see that such provisions are made, than to be 
 stoning the sparrows for nothing but hate. 
 
 " Since man must live, man must eat," and we 
 may eat the English sparrows. But see that we 
 do it with a thought of their good qualities, and 
 a regret that they are not better neighbors to 
 other birds. 
 
THE BANK-SWALLOW. 
 
 HE air is their home, as the water 
 is the home of the fishes. True, 
 you may now and then surprise 
 them in the act of taking a sun- 
 bath on the beach; and if you are 
 quick enough and still enough, you 
 may see them helping themselves 
 to the sand-flies and hoppers, and such folk, that 
 are out for the selfsame purpose of taking a sun- 
 bath. You will not see the swallows running after 
 these things, but they snatch them while lying on 
 the sand. Excepting when taking this sun-bath, 
 it is doubtful if the bank-swallows are ever seen 
 011 the ground. 
 
 The flight of these birds of the air is extremely 
 rapid. They can keep well abreast of a fast ex- 
 press train; and no won- 
 der the common people 
 used to tell curious stories 
 of the way they spend the 
 winter. Not being able to 
 see the swallows in their 
 
 117 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 Hibernation of animals. 
 Why most insect-eating 
 
 birds migrate. 
 How cliffs and high 
 banks are formed. 
 
118 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 flight, so high and so fast, it was told of them that 
 they spent the winter under the ice, at the bottom 
 of ponds and streams, with the snapping turtle 
 and the eels. Again, it was rumored that they 
 crept into rat-holes or away down to the bottom 
 of hollow trees, where they hibernated like the 
 bears, and slept the winter away. 
 
 It is well known now that swallows migrate to 
 a warmer clime at the approach of winter. As 
 they travel they do not stop for meals. They 
 feast upon such delicacies as come in their airy 
 way. The beak of the swallow is a scoop made 
 on purpose to catch flies; and so these insects, 
 that are having a good time in the upper air, 
 never know what brings them so suddenly to the 
 end of their career. 
 
 At nesting-time you may see the bank-swallows 
 soaring-above the steep banks, selecting a suitable 
 location for their summer work. Flying slowly 
 beneath the crest of the bank, they tap the earth 
 to ascertain the best spot to commence in. Down 
 tumble little stones and sand, splashing right 
 into the surf, or dropping on the heads of stroll- 
 ers along the beach. Supporting themselves by 
 their wings, they dig with their claws straight 
 into the bank, at a slightly upward slant, like the 
 kingfishers. When the tunnel is two or three 
 
THE BANK-SWALLOW. 119 
 
 feet in length, they make a little chamber in 
 which to lay their eggs. 
 
 When a swallow is approaching its hole in the 
 bank, you will notice it folds its wings and darts 
 right in without so much as touching foot on its 
 own door-step. At the end of the passageway in 
 the little nursery-chamber, just out of reach of a 
 boy's arm, the little swallows grow, and gradually 
 learn to run down the long lane and peep out of 
 the door. It is now that the crow, the hungry 
 rascal that he is, is observed to keep strict watch. 
 Many a child swallow is met at the open door 
 with a very tragic ending of its short life. 
 
 Perhaps you think the young swallows stand a 
 good chance of tumbling off from their door-steps 
 into the river. But such a catastrophe never 
 occurs. A baby swallow's wings are developed 
 very soon, and the little bird is much at home in 
 the air on his first flight, as any one may see by 
 watching a colony of nesting-holes, only you 
 would have some difficulty in recognizing the 
 young from their parents, for they look just alike. 
 
 The twittering of the swallows is musical, 
 though they have no real song. They are a bless- 
 ing to all mankind, for they never take our fruit 
 or grain, living entirely upon insect-life, and of 
 course taking many harmful species. 
 
120 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Once a hungry hunter, who had found bad luck 
 in place of game, came upon a colony of swallows, 
 and thought he would breakfast on swallow fry, 
 or stew, or pie. 
 
 He shot a number, and thought they looked 
 good eating, lying limp in his hand, suggestive of 
 blackbird or sparrow or quail on toast. The 
 breakfast smelled all right, cooking in the camp- 
 skillet, and the hunter smacked his lips after the 
 manner of hunters when they are hungry. Alas! 
 at the first mouthful he turned the contents of 
 the frying-pan into the fire. The taste of the 
 flesh resembled that of the turkey-buzzard, as 
 near as his imagination could help him out. 
 What else could a person expect of a bird which 
 eats only insects? As well cook a crow or a blue 
 
 jay- 
 
THE CLIFF-SWALLOW. 
 
 HILE the bank-swallow is too 
 shy to be often seen about our 
 homes, the cliff-swallow is fond 
 of human company. It is as 
 ^ % v* fond of our large cities as of 
 
 our country homes. It was 
 never known to do an injury to any one. It is 
 the true friend of our horses and other stock, eat- 
 ing large numbers of the flies that torture them. 
 And they eat, also, the insects that sting our fruit 
 trees. They are kind and loving to each other 
 and tenderly care for their own family. If any of 
 their folks are in trouble, they all lend a hand. 
 
 The note of the cliff-swallow is a genial sound, 
 pleasant to hear at nesting-time. While they 
 are chatting as they fly, you can hear their bills 
 snapping up the insects in their way. 
 
 In the old days, before we built houses in every 
 part of the land, the cliff- 
 swallows made their bottle- 
 shaped nests on the. sides 
 of rocks; but they now pre- 
 
 REFEREXCE TOPICS. 
 How bricks are made. 
 Clay-modeling. 
 
 121 
 
122 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 fer the house-eaves which we offer them. Some- 
 times they build under bridges. 
 
 It is a pretty sight when you come upon the 
 swallows fluttering above the mud-puddles after a 
 rain, or following the water-wagon about the 
 streets for the leakage that collects in little un- 
 even places of the road. See how they work up 
 the mud into pellets, partly swallowing as many 
 as they can carry at one load. By looking closely 
 at the nests, you see they are just a collection 
 of these little pellets of dried mud. It is really 
 artistic skill in clay-modeling. It is supposed 
 that the early natives of our Western coast, watch- 
 ing the swallows and phoebes at their nest-build- 
 ing, got the idea of making mud into bricks and 
 so building adobe houses. 
 
 You will notice that some of the nests have 
 little balconies or verandas on the sides. Now, it 
 was supposed the birds made these on purpose 
 for a resting-place when coming to the nest, or 
 for the young to find safe footing on; but we have 
 watched the swallows a long time, and are sure 
 these little verandas are never made on purpose. 
 As the nest progresses, now and then a layer or 
 bunch of pellets weakens and falls. Sometimes 
 these fall to the ground, and often they only tip 
 over and adhere to the rest of the nest in that 
 
THE CLIFF-SWALLOW. 123 
 
 shape. The old birds continue building above 
 the broken bits, and when the nest is finished, it 
 has the appearance of an adobe with porches. 
 
 When a colony of swallows has taken posses- 
 sion of a barn-loft, or the side of a barn, under the 
 eaves, it seems as though all take a hand in the 
 building, no particular pair at any certain nest. 
 But when nearly finished, a single female takes 
 possession and lays her eggs. 
 
 We have not seen the eggs left alone for a single 
 moment. When either bird is off the nest, the 
 mate takes its place. If a colony be disturbed, 
 all the birds fly anxiously about, snapping their 
 beaks and begging to be left in peace. The swal- 
 lows took possession of a phcebe's nest, last year, 
 under our barn-eaves. In this same nest the 
 linnets had -reared two broods. 
 
 Some people object to having swallows about 
 their homes, but we love them. A little fresh 
 paint will make the side of a stable look as good 
 as new, and one can endure the untidy appear- 
 ance for just a few weeks for the fun there is in 
 watching the birds. Nothing is more interest- 
 ing on a warm day than to lie on one's back on 
 the hay-mow and watch the swallows. Lacking 
 the hay-mow, one can lie in a hammock or on the 
 grass and watch a colony on the north side of the 
 
124 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 barn. The birds soon come to know you will not 
 harm them, and pay no attention to you, even 
 though you are very close to them. 
 
 There is a harmless superstition among the 
 country people in some parts of the world, that 
 " if you are good to the swallows, the lightning 
 will never strike your barn." 
 
 A good story is told of a farmer who thought to 
 frighten the swallows away from his barn by 
 hanging a dead owl to the rafter, where it swung 
 in the wind. What should they do, but place the 
 very first pellet of mud they brought in right on 
 the head of the owl! And they kept on with the 
 nest until one egg was laid, when nest, egg, and 
 old bird swung in the wind. The farmer thought 
 it such a curiosity, that he took the stuffed owl 
 with the nest on its head and gave it to a great 
 museum, so that other people could admire it. 
 Then he put a sea-shell in its place in the barn, 
 swinging it by strings put through little holes he 
 had drilled in the edges of the shell, and tied it to 
 the same rafter. The swallows built another nest 
 right in the shell and brought out their brood. 
 What interesting things a person can find out who 
 loves the birds and has the patience to study 
 them! 
 
THE CEDAR WAXWING. 
 
 E is really a waxwing, wherever 
 he goes, but he has other 
 names. When he is dining 
 on cherries, he is the cherry- 
 bird. When he is breakfast- 
 ing on cedar-berries, he is the 
 cedar-bird. The fact is, when 
 a waxwing is at the farmer's fruit, his wax tips 
 are forgotten or overlooked. These wax tips are 
 a puzzle to men who study birds all their lives. 
 They are not wax, for they do not melt in the sun 
 nor crack in the frost. But they look just like 
 wax. Thin waxen tips are on the wing-quills. 
 The yellow band on the end of the tail, and the 
 red on the wings, distinguish these birds from all 
 others. No one knows the 
 use of these waxen tips, 
 so we conclude they are 
 for ornament only. They 
 shine when the bird is fly- 
 ing, or when it is atilt in 
 the trees. 
 
 125 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 How wild plant seeds 
 
 are scattered. 
 Pepper trees. 
 How mistletoe grows. 
 Camels on the desert. 
 Birds injured by wires. 
 
126 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Unlike the orioles, the waxwings always come 
 to us in flocks, usually with the robins in winter. 
 They appear suddenly in the pepper trees or the 
 sycamores. Pepper-berries and mistletoe-berries 
 make a midwinter feast for the waxwings. The 
 waxwings share the robins' ways of throwing up 
 the seeds after a meal on these berries. Pepper 
 trees are seen growing in distant mountain 
 washes, where never any man planted the seeds. 
 This is the work of the waxwings. 
 
 The robins and waxwings seem firm friends, 
 and wander about together, as merry as can be. 
 The real cause of their friendship lies in the food 
 which they share together. Their tastes are 
 similar. 
 
 Waxwings are birds of long flight. There is a 
 common belief that the waxwing gathers a supply 
 of food in its lunch-basket or crop, and carries it 
 on long journeys, digesting it at need, as the 
 camel is known to carry a supply of water for its 
 desert journey. This may be only a story, as we 
 are not certain about it. 
 
 We manage to have food ready for the winter 
 birds in our grounds. If we give the raspberries 
 a late summer watering, they will bear berries in 
 midwinter, not a large crop, to be sure, but 
 enough for the waxwings. It is great fun to see 
 
THE CEDAR WAXWING. 127 
 
 the birds chatter about those berries, and bend 
 the canes to the ground, where they hold them 
 until the stem is robbed of all the ripe fruit. 
 
 Always a fearless bird, the waxwings learn to 
 be very tame with us, where they are sure of kind 
 treatment and plenty to eat. We suppose our 
 readers will begin to think we do little else but 
 feed the birds, and you may more than suspect 
 that we are eaten out of house and home by the 
 feathered visitors. The truth is, it takes only an 
 idle moment to place food in the way of the birds; 
 and it does n't take so very much food as you 
 may imagine to satisfy all our friends. In return, 
 we have song, and a good many things to think 
 about, better than idle thought. 
 
 The waxwings' language is an endless chatter 
 about the things they see on their journeys. 
 True, the farmers are not particularly fond of 
 them or their chatter. Would they take the time 
 to find out, they would know that the waxwings 
 eat only many harmful worms, moths, and flies 
 during two or three months in the year. As they 
 are always hungry, it takes a good many cater- 
 pillars to each meal. Though, come to think of 
 it, a waxwing does n't have regular meals. Most 
 of its time seems to be meal-time. 
 
 Probably our robins and waxwings nest in the 
 
128 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 same localities farther north. As mates, the wax- 
 wings are very much attached to each other. 
 Once a bird was taken captive, and its mate re- 
 fused to leave it, allowing itself to be caught, that 
 it might be with the one it loved so much. A 
 young one fell from its nest in a storm, and was 
 taken into the house to be cared for until it should 
 recover. The parent birds fed it between the 
 cage-bars, as we have known the mockers and 
 orioles to do. 
 
 You may know if a waxwing is happy or miser- 
 able by the way it wears its crest. If happy and 
 free, it lifts this beautiful black crest, and if in 
 confinement or otherwise unhappy, it keeps it 
 depressed. 
 
 Waxwings nest in trees or bushes. The eggs 
 are four to six, slate or olive color splashed with 
 browns. The parent birds do not tell a stranger 
 where the nest is placed, as so many of our birds 
 do, but are said to keep very quiet, scarely whis- 
 pering to each other during the whole period of 
 nesting. 
 
 We have taken wounded waxwings into the 
 house in winter and nursed them until well again 
 and able to fly away with their folks. Waxwings 
 fly swiftly, and are so busy admiring the country, 
 perhaps, that they do not see our telegraph wires 
 
THE CEDAR WAXWING. 129 
 
 until they fly straight against them. The shock 
 stuns them, and they fall. We pick them up, and 
 by keeping them a few days, they recover. Dur- 
 ing this short time we have had them grow to be 
 very tame, taking food from our hands. When 
 given their freedom, they send us a parting glance 
 and are up and away. 
 
 W. S. R. VOL. 9 9 
 
THE ROAD-RUNNER. 
 
 IS name describes his character. 
 And he has several other names, 
 which describe him equally as 
 well as " road-runner." He is 
 called ground-cuckoo, chaparral- 
 cock, and snake-killer. He will 
 answer to either name if you have the luck to find 
 him at home in some desolate arroyo through 
 which a narrow road winds among the stones and 
 cacti. 
 
 Probably the bird will see you before you catch 
 sight of it, and take to its legs. You think you 
 will catch up with it, and you will run at the top 
 of your speed. As well try to overtake an ostrich. 
 Were you on a good saddle-horse, you would make 
 little better pace. As it runs on ahead of you, the 
 
 strange bird keeps a keen 
 eye behind him. Nature 
 has left a spot bare of feath- 
 ers all around the road- 
 runner's eyes on purpose 
 that it may see behind it. 
 
 REFEREXCE TOPICS. 
 
 How arroyos 
 
 formed. 
 Habits of lizards, 
 
 where they live. 
 How ostriches run. 
 
 and 
 
 130 
 
THE ROAD-RUNNER. 131 
 
 If you are close enough to him, you will notice 
 that his wings are very short indeed. What need 
 has he of wings, with such legs? And his feet! 
 They are large and strong enough to run all day. 
 But notice his tail particularly. It is very long. 
 
 L 
 
 THE ROAD-RUNNER. 
 
 As the bird runs he holds his tail straight out 
 behind, not touching the ground with the tip of 
 it, very much as his neighbor fox holds his brush 
 when he is on the run. If you stop suddenly 
 and hide in the bushes, road-runner thinks you 
 are gone for good, and he concludes to slow up. 
 It is now that he makes use of his long tail. Up 
 it goes like a sail in the wind, and so, maybe, 
 helps its owner to come to a sudden standstill. 
 
132 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Road-runner wears a beautiful crest on his 
 head, and as he stands on tiptoe a few rods ahead 
 of you in that desolate canon road, you think him 
 the finest bird you have ever seen. You would 
 rather catch him than get home in time for 
 supper. But it takes a genius to catch a road- 
 runner. They have been caught, however, and 
 tamed. In homes that are built on the road-run- 
 ner's border-land, the bird has been seen in 
 chicken-houses, hunting spiders among the roosts. 
 It eats like a chicken and nests like a hen, and 
 lays nearly as many white eggs. 
 
 There is no telling how many eggs a hen road- 
 runner does lay for a setting, for in the same nest 
 are found fresh eggs and young birds just ready 
 for their first run. The nests are coarse, like 
 biddy hen's, in low bushes just above the ground. 
 What cares mother road-runner if a snake makes 
 up its mind to pay her a visit, and ask how it 
 fares with her large family? She is a match for 
 any snake, and stops not to ask questions when 
 one is in her path. As for lizards, they are her 
 delight. She comes upon one of these numerous 
 neighbors of hers basking in the sun on an arroyo 
 rock and that identical lizard is never seen any 
 more. The road-runner's long, strong beak was 
 formed on purpose to capture snakes and lizards, 
 
ROAD-RUNNER. 133 
 
 and to pry up stones under which snails and in- 
 sects may be in hiding. But the bird takes fruit 
 as well as meat, and frequents corners where the 
 wild grape grows. 
 
 These strange birds are growing more and more 
 scarce each year as we encroach on their hunting- 
 grounds; and unless we teach them' to trust us, 
 none will be left by and by. Perhaps it would be 
 well to place some of their eggs under our hens, 
 to hatch out with the chickens. They are. said to 
 take kindly to the habits of our domestic fowls. 
 A few running with our barn-yard flocks on the 
 edge of the mountain washes might induce the 
 wild road-runners to come and live with us. As 
 they are good layers, we might develop a new 
 breed of fowls! Only the eggs are small, and the 
 birds themselves not pleasant-tasting. 
 
OUR WESTERN WRENS. 
 
 TRANGERS who come to California 
 often say, " Why don't you have 
 the wrens here? " 
 
 We do have some twelve or 
 fifteen sorts of wrens, all with 
 the familiar features of the wren 
 family, chunky little body, 
 stick-up tails, stout long toes, slightly curved beak. 
 But none of our wrens has yet learned to nest 
 about our homes, like the common Eastern wren. 
 Strangers coming here look out of their windows 
 or stand on the balcony, and seeing no wrens 
 
 about the garden, conclude 
 we do not have this confid- 
 ing little bird. 
 
 If one would see our 
 Western wrens, he must go 
 to the wooded foothills, or 
 canons, or into the dreary 
 arroyos and washes. 
 
 Many common birds 
 that now nest and live 
 
 134 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Effects on animal life of 
 cutting down forests 
 and cultivating wild 
 lands. 
 
 Structure of cactus ; 
 reasons for spines and 
 dense cuticle. 
 
 Rattlesnakes, their poi- 
 son-fangs and rattles. 
 
 Tule-marshes. 
 
 Eskimo Igloos. 
 
OUR WESTERN WRENS. 135 
 
 near human dwellings have learned to do so more 
 from necessity than from choice. We have culti- 
 vated the meadows and hills, and cut down the 
 forests, and cleared out the marshes, until the birds 
 which once lived in these places were driven away. 
 They were obliged to make our acquaintance and 
 live with us, or be crowded into the sea or to the 
 bleak mountains. 
 
 Our wrens have still their native wilds in the 
 West, but by and by, when we have cultivated all 
 the land, they will, no doubt, come and live with 
 us and change their habits to suit. We shall 
 have them in our woodsheds and balconies, and 
 they will accept the little boxes we shall put up 
 for their nests. Now and then we do see some of 
 the wrens in our garden, in winter-time, searching 
 about the tree's and shrubbery with their cousins 
 the titmice and chicadees and bush-tits. It seems 
 as if they are looking the ground over to see how 
 they will like it when the time comes for them to 
 stay. We shall all be glad to see them, with their 
 lively ways and pretty songs. 
 
 Perhaps the most interesting wren we have 
 with us all the year round, in parts of the South- 
 west, is the cactus-wren. It is so named on ac- 
 count of its preference for the dry, desert-like 
 arroyos and washes, where hardly any plant grows 
 
136 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 save the bristly cactus. Here, with the rattle- 
 snakes for companions, and plenty of tiny insects 
 for food, the cactus-wren builds its nest and rears 
 its family. It is well known that rattlesnakes are 
 fond of young birds before they are out of the 
 nest. Of course, after it is out of the nest and on 
 the wing, any bird is more than a match for a 
 snake. 
 
 Snake sees the parent wrens flitting about the 
 brush after the insects, and he thinks to himself 
 " There are no trees for you to build in, little birds; 
 I will watch and see where you put your eggs." 
 But the wrens trouble not themselves about snake 
 and his breakfast. Nature has told them just how 
 to keep their young from so sly an enemy. 
 
 Some time in March or April you may take a 
 walk out into the mountain washes where the 
 cactus grows, and watch for the wrens. If you 
 keep still under cover of a scrub-oak or a big 
 rock, you may see how the work is done, and how 
 mother wren manages to get ahead of snake. 
 
 The nesting-material is grass and slender sticks 
 and plant fibers. These are woven into a pouch 
 not unlike a bush-tit's nest laid on its side. The 
 nest is secured to the fork or branch of the low 
 cactus. It is thickly lined with feathers. Then 
 a long passageway like the entrance to an Es- 
 
OUR WESTERN WRENS. 137 
 
 kimo's igloo is made to the nest, of the same grass 
 and fiber. Wrens everywhere like shelter and 
 hidden nooks. 
 
 Snake, no doubt, sees all this work going on, 
 and he basks in the warm sun and thinks about it. 
 Let him try to crawl up to poke his sly head into 
 mother wren's affairs, and he will be sorry he at- 
 tempted it. Cactus thorns and stickers seem made 
 on purpose to keep snakes out of wrens' nests. 
 And the rattlers find this out sooner or later. 
 
 In this nice, warm, safe nest, four or five little 
 wrens are hatched, and grow up ready to take 
 care of themselves before snake has shed his skin 
 half a dozen times. 
 
 Like many of our birds, the cactus-wren man- 
 ages to have the outside of her nest of one uni- 
 form color. ' We sometimes find them made of a 
 delicate red weed that grows 
 all over the barren hillsides 
 and washes. 
 
 The Vigors wren is 
 resident in the West, 
 north and south. You 
 will find it in the 
 foothills and on the 
 brushy mountain sides 
 in summer, where it VIGORS WREN. 
 
138 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 nests in holes in trees, or in the ground. In win- 
 ter it comes down to the valleys and mesas. They 
 love the vicinity of half-decayed logs and thick 
 undergrowth, where loose rubbish makes a good 
 feeding-ground. The eggs are five or six, mottled 
 white. They nest in April and May. 
 
 The song of the Vigors wren is very sweet and 
 varied. On this account this bird is sometimes 
 called the mocking-wren. But it is always their 
 own songs they are singing. In winter-time they 
 are very tame, allowing one to almost touch them, 
 merely keeping at arm's-length away. This habit 
 of being so fearless in winter-time is shared by 
 many of our wrens and titmice. They are intent 
 upon getting their food. This food consisting of 
 very small insects, the bird's eye is supposed to be 
 adjusted to short focus to see these insects, and 
 are not suited to more distant and larger objects. 
 
 The Parkman wren is another of our resident 
 birds. But it comes in sight more commonly in 
 summer than in winter. On this account it is 
 often called the summer wood-wren. It nests in 
 hollow trees, anywhere from five to forty feet 
 above the ground. As usual with the wrens, the 
 nest is built of bark and fiber and grasses, with 
 plenty of twigs for a basis, and the lining is 
 thickly made of feathers. The nest is deep, with 
 
OUR WESTERN WRENS. 139 
 
 narrow entrance, so that it seems almost impos- 
 sible that the old bird can squeeze herself into it. 
 Of course it is not easy for the little birds to 
 get out, as they must, in some cases, climb many 
 feet. It is supposed that the old birds help the 
 young in getting out into the world when it is 
 time. They may "boost" from behind, as the 
 bluebirds are said to do, or they may build a 
 ladder or foot-rest of twigs. If our mockers and 
 towhees and other birds in the gardens would 
 make such provision for keeping the young at 
 home until they are ready to fly, there would not 
 be so many falling out of the nest " before they 
 are ripe." The eggs of the Parkman wren are 
 five to nine, of a pinkish white color. Dr. Park- 
 man, for whom the bird was named, found a nest 
 in an old horse's skull that had been placed on 
 top of a fence. 
 
 These wrens are said to be even now changing 
 their habits to those of the Eastern house- wren; 
 for they have been known to accept cigar-boxes 
 nailed in a tree, and may even come to a house or 
 barn in which snug little holes offer attractive 
 nesting-places. 
 
 The wren family is so large in California, it 
 would take a whole book to describe them and 
 their ways. Children who care to study birds for 
 
140 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 what pleasure and information they can get, will 
 find the wrens very interesting. Especially if 
 you live in secluded spots, in the foothills, or near 
 marshes, you may have the wrens for company 
 the year round. There is the tule-wren, which 
 loves the swampy regions. You may find their 
 globe-shaped nests in May, fastened among the 
 upright stalks of rank grass or tules. They love 
 to feed in damp weed-patches. But don't mis- 
 take the wrens for their relatives the titmice and 
 warblers. 
 
THE SHRIKE, OR BUTCHER-BIRD. 
 
 E have a warm place in our 
 hearts for the shrike. He is 
 not so cruel as most people 
 suppose. He is very beautiful 
 in shape and color. At first glance, 
 one might take him for the mocker. 
 But you can easily see the difference. The throat 
 of the shrike and the tips of all his tail-feathers 
 are white. A dark stripe runs from the corners of 
 his mouth through the eye and back on the neck. 
 This stripe is called a "black bridle." 
 
 It is not a noisy bird, though it is known to 
 scream harshly, once in a while. But it has an 
 occasional sweet song. It is not seen often in our 
 gardens. It seems to know that it is dreaded by 
 other birds, and ordinarily 
 keeps well away from them. 
 They have little need to be 
 so afraid of him, for he is 
 not the butcher they take 
 him for. To be sure, he 
 does eat up a little bird, 
 
 141 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 How cats catch their 
 prey. 
 
 Merciful killing of ani- 
 mals for food. 
 
 Animals that lay. up 
 stores for future use. 
 
 Insecticides. 
 
THE SHRIKE, OR BUTCHER-BIRD. 143 
 
 now and then, when he can get nothing else; and 
 he impales what he does not eat on some thorn. 
 Probably the other birds have caught him at 
 this naughty business a very few times, and " once 
 detected, always suspected." They have never 
 forgiven him. 
 
 So, perhaps, this butcher has come honestly 
 by his name. But it is not so very bad to be a 
 butcher ! Let us learn some lessons from his 
 merciful way of doing his work. The shrike kills 
 its victim by a blow, or by impaling it on a thorn. 
 In either case it is a quick death. Sometimes he 
 kills it before hanging it. If he does hang it on a 
 thorn before giving the fatal stroke, he impales it 
 by the back of the skull or neck. There is no 
 playing before killing, as with the common cat. 
 
 Why the shrike hangs its prey on thorns or 
 weed-stalks or barbed-wire fences, no one knows. 
 He seldom returns to eat it. You may find the 
 little ghosts of grasshoppers and crickets and mice 
 arid other creatures swinging in the wind as dry 
 as a bone. Indeed, they are often nothing but 
 dry bones with just enough skin to hold the bones 
 together. It is well known that tree-squirrels, 
 and jays, and woodpeckers do not return and eat 
 all the food they stow away in secret places. Per- 
 haps all these little creatures have a vague idea 
 
144 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 that there may be a famine, and they would do 
 well to save something. It is a good idea. 
 
 Butcher-birds have been seen to catch gophers, 
 and they are very partial to those great Jerusalem 
 crickets which eat holes in the farmers' pota- 
 toes. Most farmers are on friendly terms with 
 "Butchy." They have an idea that the bird eats 
 more or less linnets, and the average farmer can 
 endure the company of almost anything that 
 makes war on the linnets. The linnets could tell 
 him that not three times in a season does Butchy 
 molest a linnet. Butchy prefers a lizard any day. 
 And it is his greatest delight to chase butterflies. 
 Farmer sees Butchy darting across the garden! 
 The linnets fly to cover, and farmer chuckles. 
 Butchy wasn't after the birds at all, but that 
 great red-and-black butterfly the farmer did not 
 see. 
 
 When once any creature is picked up by the 
 butcher-bird, it is of no use for it to squirm. 
 Butchy is provided with a pretty good set of teeth 
 for a bird. The tip of the beak is notched. 
 These notches are called "teeth." They hold on 
 to a gopher, or a lizard, or a beetle with a tight 
 grip. However, should the butcher seize a lizard 
 by the tip of its tail, the bird would have tail, and 
 nothing <else a for its breakfast, as its cousin the 
 
THE SHRIKE, OR BUTCHER-BIRD. 145 
 
 mocker has when he seizes a lizard. In the case 
 of the mocker, he evidently wants nothing but the 
 tail, as he could n't possibly tear to pieces or 
 swallow a whole lizard. But the butcher wants 
 the whole lizard, and takes pains to catch it by 
 the back of the head, as you see must be the case 
 when you find it stuck on a thorn. 
 
 The feet of the butcher are fitted for perching, 
 more than for walking; but he is able to stand on 
 the ground very well while he is getting good 
 hold of a mouse or other animal. You will see 
 him mostly on the top of a tree or perched on a 
 telegraph wire, watching. He has a wonderful 
 eye, arid is so intent on the creature he is looking 
 for in the grass or bush below him, that you may 
 come close to him without the butcher turning 
 his head. Wait and study him a moment! See 
 how quickly he dives into the air and down to the 
 ground, just as the kingfisher dives into the 
 water. 
 
 The nest of the butcher is placed- in a shrub or 
 tree, in March or April. It is a very large, thick 
 nest. Sticks and grass and twine are so well 
 matted together with little weed-leaves, that you 
 might think it partly of mud, like the robin's 
 nest. In southern California we have found nests 
 made wholly of the white wild sage matted thick 
 
 W.S.JR. VOL. 9 ID 
 
146 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 and firm. Perhaps the butcher mother chooses 
 this sage to keep the mites from invading the 
 nest. You know, our birds must have a serious 
 time with the mites at nesting seasons. If the 
 swallows and phoebes and linnets who raise their 
 broods two or three times in the same nest would 
 learn a lesson from the butcher-bird they would 
 do well. A few pieces of wild sage or pennyroyal 
 woven in with the grass or mud would be a pro- 
 tection. 
 
 The eggs of the butcher are usually six, grayish 
 brown with darker markings. By this number of 
 eggs you might conclude that butchers are very 
 numerous in the West. But the truth is, they are 
 not often seen. Never in flocks! They are soli- 
 tary birds, always "keeping still" on the watch, 
 like a cat at a mouse-hole. 
 
 Of course, the shrikes are not common in our 
 garden, for the reason, we suppose, that the food 
 we provide for the other birds is not to Butchy's 
 liking. We seldom see a shrike in our grounds. 
 But we have tracked him! We found a little 
 mocker impaled on a cactus leaf, the thorn 
 stuck straight through the skull, at the base of 
 the brain. However, as we started out with say- 
 ing, we have a warm place in our hearts for 
 Butchy. He is n't so bad as he might be! 
 
THE BROWN PELICAN. 
 
 STRANGE bird is the pelican, and 
 quite worth one's while to know. 
 It measures three feet from the 
 tip of the beak to the tip of the 
 tail. The tail does n't amount 
 to much, but the wings, when 
 spread, measure from seven to nine feet. The 
 short, stout legs are set well back, so it would 
 seem little trouble for the great bird to stand up- 
 right like a man. The beak is several times as 
 long as the head. On the tip of the beak is a 
 sharp hook, which bends over the lower mandible 
 when the beak is closed. This curious beak sug- 
 gests a fish-hook, and such it really is. The busi- 
 ness of the pelican is to catch fish. That is the 
 reason we find it always along the sea-shore. 
 
 Could the pelican sing like a thrush, and were 
 its song in keeping with its size, we should have 
 deep, grand music indeed. 
 But no thrush is the peli- 
 can, and no song does it 
 sing. 
 
 REFERENCE TOPIC. 
 
 Food-pouches of gophers 
 and squirrels. 
 
 147 
 
148 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Along with his fish-hook the pelican always car- 
 ries with him a fish-basket. Nor was he ever 
 known to forget it, and leave it at home. This 
 fish-basket might be a traveling-bag or a reticule 
 sewed to the under lip. The beak opens and 
 closes like the clasp-handle of a satchel or valise. 
 This pouch, or bag, or Saratoga trunk, or what- 
 ever you may call it, holds, when well packed, 
 several quarts or pounds. It is capable of stretch- 
 ing almost indefinitely when necessary, and col- 
 lapsing when empty. 
 
 The brown pelican plunges into the water for 
 fish, like the kingfisher. The birds carry the fish 
 in their bag until it can hold no more, when they 
 fly to some convenient place on the shore, open 
 their basket and take a lunch. When fishing, the 
 pelican has an odd way of throwing the head 
 back, so the water may run out of the corners of 
 the mouth. It is inconvenient to carry as much 
 water as fish. When a brown pelican is off on a 
 fishing excursion, it flies above the water with its 
 head turned to one side, looking into the briny 
 deep with one eye, as you have seen a mocking- 
 bird or shrike do from its perch. It makes a droll 
 picture 
 
 The basket-throat of the pelican is not unlike 
 the pouch-cheek of a squirrel or a gopher. Each 
 
THE BROWN PELICAN. 149 
 
 pocket is stuffed full of good things to eat. The 
 squirrel and the gopher take nuts or pansy-roots, 
 as the case may be, and off they trudge to their 
 young ones. Pelican takes nothing but fish, and 
 flies with it. 
 
 It is said that a pelican never eats a fish until 
 it has been stored in its knapsack for some time. 
 When the knapsack is full, the pelican snatches 
 one more fish, and flies away with it across its 
 beak. 
 
 The hawk sometimes watches at the fishing- 
 places, and when the pelican goes home, follows 
 it. Suddenly, hawk swoops down with a great 
 flourish of alarm, and frightens poor pelican, so 
 that he opens his mouth to scream. Out drops 
 the fish, and hawk flies off with it, no doubt laugh- 
 ing, if hawks do laugh, at the good joke. And 
 maybe he tells the story to his friends around the 
 camp at night. 
 
 The pelicans nest on many of our Pacific coast 
 islands. The nests are placed on the ground in 
 the most retired spot, and made of a great mass 
 of seaweed and rubbish. Father pelican goes off 
 with his fish-basket to bring home the provisions, 
 while mother pelican is occupied with the nest 
 and eggs. There is a legend that the pelican 
 mother feeds her young with drops of blood from 
 
150 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 her own breast. This story is as true as legends 
 usually are; and you should always take a legend 
 with a pinch of salt. The truth is, the pelican 
 presses the food up out of her own full crop 
 with the tip of her great beak. At times a peli- 
 can's beak is tipped with red, so that a person 
 looking from a distance would think it a drop of 
 blood. 
 
 It looks as though a pelican would meet with 
 some difficulty in preening and cleaning itself 
 with such a great, ungainly beak as it has to work 
 with. But a pelican knows very well how to use 
 its feet to reach those parts the beak is unable to 
 meet. Imagine a pelican trying to preen the back 
 of its neck with its bill as other birds do. What 
 a droll sight! 
 
 When pelican is annoyed, it is said to have an 
 original way of opening its beak wide and slap- 
 ping it together. This makes a great noise, and 
 may well scare anybody who is easily frightened. 
 The pouch collapses when the beak suddenly 
 shuts, with a loud report, as when a paper bag is 
 blown out and then punched. 
 
 When a pelican has remained long standing in 
 the edge of the water, and feels cold and tired, it 
 has a way of walking up on shore, standing 
 straight like a man, and napping its wings as a 
 
THE BROWN PELICAN. 151 
 
 person slaps his arms to warm himself. The 
 pelican has rather a sad face when you look right 
 into it. And he has a way of standing still a long 
 while after meals, as if drowsy and stupid. 
 
 Any one with a summer vacation at the sea- 
 shore will find an interesting individual in the 
 brown pelican. 
 
THE AKKANSA8 GOLDFINCH. 
 
THE ARKANSAS GOLDFINCH. 
 
 'E often hear this bird called the 
 "wild canary." It does resem- 
 ble our caged canaries in size 
 and color and song. It is a 
 common bird about our homes 
 from April to late fall, and during this time nests, 
 now high, now low, in trees. In winter we miss 
 the finches for a while, on account of their taking 
 trips off to the seed-fields, especially to the sun- 
 flower-patches on the uplands and in the washes 
 of country roads. You may see them in large 
 flocks, feeding upon the brown seeds. They will 
 wait for you to approach them, when they will rise 
 with a whirr, only to settle down on the next 
 group of stalks. They look like the sunflowers, 
 yellow and dark, flitting 
 and flirting about. They 
 seem very happy swinging 
 on the stems and clinging 
 with both feet while they 
 peep under the chin of the 
 bending flower. 
 
 153 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Where tame canaries 
 come from ; how 
 raised and taught to 
 sing. 
 
 Sunflowers : mode of 
 growth and structure 
 of seeds. 
 
154 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Always the sunflowers are in blossom, and seed 
 at the same time, and the green of the leaves is 
 like the green of the canary's back. The gold- 
 finch might properly be called the sunflower-bird. 
 
 The black patch on the top of a male canary's 
 head makes one think of a skullcap pulled down 
 to the brows. And this bird with the black skull- 
 cap is the singer of the family. His song is not 
 prolonged, but it is very sweet while it lasts, 
 though some people think it too plaintive to 
 enjoy. The female has the same plaintive note, 
 especially at nesting-time. It is with the mother 
 canaries as with many other female birds who do 
 not make a common practice of singing, at 
 nesting-time they are heard to respond to their 
 mates and to twitter or sing low lullabies. We 
 are able to locate the nest by this call-note of the 
 female, which she utters almost constantly while 
 sitting. 
 
 The Arkansas goldfinch and his wife are never 
 far apart. They answer each other if separated 
 even for a few feet, and seem never to grow weary 
 of each other's company. 
 
 They love our orange and lemon orchards, the 
 loquat trees, the cypress hedges, the walnut 
 groves, and especially low-branching apple trees. 
 They build their beautiful nests in any of these, 
 
THE ARKANSAS GOLDFINCH. 155 
 
 sometimes as low as your elbow. The nests are 
 very carefully made. The wall is thickly matted, 
 composed of plant-down, fibers and lichens, and 
 bits of dried leaves. The nest is pressed into 
 shape by the mother's breast, she revolving in- 
 side the cup until it is perfectly round. Then 
 she lines it with horsehairs, threads, bits of 
 feathers, and spider-web. When completed, the 
 nest is about the size of an after-dinner teacup. 
 
 We like to tempt the goldfinches to build about 
 our grounds; so we place twine in short lengths 
 over a twig, and horsehairs and soft ravelings 
 from cloth. We pinch bits of furze from the 
 woolen rugs, and fur from the skins in the house, 
 and place these in sight of the birds. We tie 
 cotton batting in bunches to the bushes, and 
 stick pampas, plumes in the hedges. 
 
 We have known the goldfinches to accept each 
 of these tempting offers, especially the pampas 
 plumes, which they pull in little tufts and scatter 
 to the wind as they fly. We have tracked them 
 to the nest by these little tufts, and by the bits of 
 white cotton which they love best of anything for 
 lining their nests, in our grounds. When cotton 
 is used, horsehairs are mixed with it, so the 
 young birds may have something to cling to with 
 their toes. With most birds, this having strings 
 
156 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 and hairs to cling to is a necessary feature of the 
 nest-lining. 
 
 In early spring-nesting, it sometimes happens 
 that a storm of wind and rain batters the nests of 
 the finches, and so we protect them as best we 
 can. All the birds that live near us have learned 
 to trust us, and will often permit us to shelter 
 their nests with cloth or big hats, or an apron or 
 an umbrella. 
 
 One time we noticed the young ones were 
 growing so fast that two of them were crowded 
 out of the nest. This is not uncommon, as the 
 eggs are four to five in number and laid on five 
 different days. You see, by this arrangement the 
 first egg laid is hatched five days in advance of 
 the last egg. There is quite a difference between 
 a birdling five days old and one just out, as any 
 one may see if he be lucky enough to have the 
 nest of a goldfinch to watch. 
 
 Now, what should be done with two birdlings 
 that sat straight up on a twig near the nest they 
 had just been crowded out of, when a storm was 
 brewing? 
 
 It was easy enough for us to place a black cloth 
 over them, making a sort of tunnel of it, extend- 
 ing well back in the branches. The little things 
 backed far up the tunnel, where they were covered 
 
THE ARKANSAS GOLDFINCH. 157 
 
 warm and dry; and here they were fed by the 
 parent birds all through the storm, which lasted 
 a week. 
 
 The goldfinches feed their young as do the lin- 
 nets and hummers, both parents lending a hand, 
 or rather a beak, at the nursing. Long after a 
 brood has flown about the garden, they may be 
 seen coaxing for " more porridge," in baby gold- 
 finch voices already plaintive. 
 
 Though the male helps his mate in the feeding 
 of the young, we have not seen him assist in the 
 nest-building. But he does not desert her, like 
 the humming-bird. He flies constantly with her 
 to and from the nest, just behind her, sometimes 
 singing on a low branch, as if to encourage her 
 while she gathers material. 
 
 We often see the two hopping along by the 
 door-step, picking up fiber and threads shaken 
 from the house-rugs, the male close at the heels of 
 his mate, standing on tiptoe, as if keeping watch. 
 
 Besides the Arkansas goldfinch, which is the 
 most familiar of the finches, we have the willow- 
 goldfinch, seen mostly in the willow groves in the 
 river bottoms. We have enticed it to our grounds 
 in late fall by planting rows of tame sunflowers 
 in time for the seeds to ripen before the frost 
 comes. The willow-goldfinch is larger than the 
 
158 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Arkansas, and has more black on its wings and 
 tail, relieved by vivid golden yellow on the rest of 
 the body. It glistens in the bright colorings of 
 the orange and lemon trees as if the birds 
 belonged to the citrus family. 
 
 We have another member of the finch family, 
 called the Lawrence goldfinch. It resembles the 
 Arkansas, but the black skullcap extends down 
 over the whole face like a mask. It is sometimes 
 called the "masked finch." 
 
THE TOWHEES. 
 
 towhees are ground-birds. 
 You seldom see them flying 
 high or sitting on trees. Like 
 the thrashers and thrushes, 
 they must scratch for a living. 
 Their feet are formed on purpose 
 for their business. They are large and strong, the 
 toes spreading. Their beaks are strong and stoutly 
 made, adapted to turning over leaves and other 
 woodland litter, including the straw and chaff in 
 our farm-yards. 
 
 You will meet the spurred towhee in the foot- 
 hills and the arroyos, or in any of the retired 
 country places. They love low undergrowth and 
 shrubbery. If you happen to be out for a Satur- 
 day walk, you will hear a scratching in the brush, 
 or fallen boughs, or behind wild grape-vines, or 
 among the ferns of a canon 
 bank. The scratching is 
 so loud, and plain, and con- 
 tinued, you might mistake 
 it for that of one of your 
 
 159 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 Irrigation of orchards. 
 Dry and wet seasons. 
 
 The principle of pro- 
 tective coloration. 
 
160 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 own biddy hens. You stop and listen, and then 
 move softly towards the spot. There is the towhee, 
 scratching with both feet for insects in the litter! 
 The blackbird scratches like a hen, but the towhee 
 makes a quick hop-scratch with both feet at once. 
 
 Towhee does n't mind your presence, provided 
 you stand perfectly still ; and you may find its 
 nest and mate by observing the direction it takes 
 when its beak is filled with food. But you need 
 not expect to see it fly straight to its nest. 
 Towhees, along with many other birds, have a 
 way of flying in an opposite direction a few feet 
 or yards, and then, turning a sharp corner, fly to 
 the nest. Our garden brown towhees often de- 
 ceived us in this way until we came to understand 
 their little tricks. 
 
 In late summer-time, when the moisture has 
 dried out of the hills and canons and oak pastures, 
 the spurred towhees come to our grounds to 
 scratch in the mulching under the trees. 
 
 Our custom of irrigating and then mulching 
 our trees in midsummer encourages insect-life of 
 many sorts, and this, in turn, invites the birds, 
 which would never think of visiting us on any 
 other account. 
 
 We like to lie in a hammock beneath a fig tree 
 whose branches droop to the ground. It is a 
 
THE TOWHEES. 161 
 
 specially good place from which to study the 
 birds. One day last summer we heard a scratch- 
 ing in the leaves near-by, and knew by the vigor- 
 ous sound that it came from a spurred towhee. 
 We had not seen the bird in our grounds before. 
 So we watched, keeping perfectly still. The sound 
 drew nearer, arid then right beneath us appeared 
 this towhee, the very bird we expected. 
 
 Now, birds have a way of looking a strange ob- 
 ject in the face without blinking, as if they would 
 make sure of its nature! Spurred towhee stared 
 at us as if determined to look us out of counte- 
 nance, if we were living beings. But, seeing we 
 did not stir, it took our hammock and its contents 
 for a fallen tree, and remained near. It flew into 
 the boughs of the fig tree, within a few inches of 
 us, so that we had our best opportunity to admire 
 this beautiful bird. There is such a charm in 
 being near a live bird when it is all animation! 
 Its form suggests alertness and shy grace. And 
 its eye! O, you should seek the haunts of wild 
 birds, and make yourself a tree or rock for just 
 long enough to comprehend the beauty of a bird's 
 eye! 
 
 The brown towhee, or brown robin, as you 
 sometimes call it, lives in our grounds the whole 
 year. It is also found in the foothills and low 
 
 r.S. E. VOL. 9 11 
 
I V 
 
THE TOWHEES. 163 
 
 lands, just anywhere in all our land where there 
 is anything to scratch, or brush for cover. The 
 towhees love our wood-piles, and the tree trim- 
 mings that are left for a while in the ! orchards. 
 And they run about the door-steps, looking for 
 the contents of the crumb-pan, which we toss to 
 them. They would come in and help themselves 
 out of the cupboard with the children when they 
 come home from school, if they were allowed. 
 Towhees and sparrows wonder why people on 
 this happy Coast are bound to shut them out of 
 their houses with those wire door and window 
 screens ! But we must have our screens, you 
 know, so long as house-flies claim a right to come 
 in of cold evenings. So, towhee takes up its stand 
 on the steps, and sometimes we brush the birds 
 off suddenly when we open the door. 
 
 The towhee nests in our grounds, anywhere 
 from three or four feet in a shrub, to ten or twenty 
 feet in a tree. 
 
 They begin their family affairs by the first 
 week in March. The first intimation we have 
 that nesting has begun is the sight of a brown 
 bird running across the yard with a white rag in 
 its beak. Often the rag chosen is too heavy to fly 
 with, and the bird drags it along by slow degrees. 
 By hard work it is able to carry it to the nesting- 
 
164 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 site, where rags and twigs are placed alternately 
 or all mixed up for the nest foundation. 
 
 We do not know why towhees are so partial to 
 white rags. They will not accept red or blue, nor 
 any color, save white. We thought it would be a 
 good idea to make towhee build a Fourth of July 
 nest; so we furnished red, white, and blue strips 
 of cotton cloth. She took all of the white ones, 
 and stood on the wheelbarrow asking for more, 
 with her feathers all rumpled and her tail jerk- 
 ing. Then we thought we would outwit her by 
 tying bits of the red and blue to the white rags. 
 She took one or two to the nest, but declined the 
 remainder. Nor would she touch them even after 
 we refused her any more white ones. 
 
 We were glad, however, that we had coaxed her 
 to use two or three of the colors, as even so little 
 would give the celebration tone to the nest. 
 When we looked to see what the effect would be, 
 we were astonished at what she had done. That 
 shrewd little towhee had tucked the red and blue 
 out of sight, inside the nest, so that not a glint of 
 either color appeared from without. Now, this 
 was a queer notion of hers, was it not? and 
 proves that birds have an eye to color. We can 
 account for the towhee's choice of white in only 
 one way. The nests are built usually in thin 
 
THE TOWHEES. 165 
 
 shrubbery, and are easily seen through the foli- 
 age. Light is white, never red and blue, as it 
 shines in streaks, or glints through the leaves. 
 White rags in a nest are not noticed, since they 
 
 YOUMG TOWHEE. 
 
 are not different in tint from the rays of sun- 
 shine. 
 
 It must be from a sense of self-protection that 
 the bird chooses white. What other reason are 
 you able to give? Make it your spring duty to 
 observe the brown towhees at their nest-work, 
 and think out the reason for things. 
 
166 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 Do not the towhee, and the humming-bird, and 
 the song-sparrow, and many others, work on the 
 principle of making the nest to suit the color of 
 its settings? 
 
 We catch the towhees playing with the white 
 rags we place in sheltered nooks for them, the 
 whole year round. We have had them to build 
 almost entire nests of white. Once we stamped 
 our name on ever so many bits of cloth, and left 
 them in the birds' way. What happened you 
 may guess. Towhees from all around made nests 
 that belonged to us. The neighbors told us their 
 towhees had our name stuck in plain sight on 
 different nests, and wondered at the strange in- 
 cident. We said nothing, but it was understood 
 between us and the towhees. Once we induced a 
 towhee to lay a shred of news-paper in her new 
 nest with an advertisement of one of our bird- 
 books on it. We watched her with great satisfac- 
 tion while she made it secure with straws and 
 sticks. When she left the nest for more material, 
 we slipped up to see the effect of our book review 
 on the parlor-table, as it were, of one of the very 
 best birds it treated of. Imagine our surprise to 
 find an advertisement of a certain kind of soap in 
 plain sight, and nothing else. It had not oc- 
 curred to us to look on the opposite side of the 
 
THE TOWHEES. 167 
 
 paper before offering it to our little friend to line 
 her nest with. And there it remained all sum- 
 mer, as if towhee were purposely calling attention 
 to soap, instead of to our bird-book. 
 
 The towhees are our especial pets, and we see 
 to it that they have as much food as they want 
 from our table. Though they do not sing, we are 
 familiar with their call-note, or chirp, and think 
 it musical. They have a way of cracking their 
 bills or grinding them together when on the 
 ground, making a rattling sound not unlike that 
 made by a person who is in the habit of grinding 
 his teeth when asleep. 
 
THE BURROWING OWL. 
 
 HE little burrowing owls were 
 among the first folk you, met 011 
 your way to the Pacific Coast. After 
 crossing the Mississippi River, you 
 spent half your daytime w r atching 
 the little fellows and their com- 
 rades, the prairie-dogs. Not that these two ani- 
 mals really love each other, or live in the same 
 neighborhood for the sake of each other's com- 
 pany. The burrowing owls take up with the 
 prairie-dogs and the ground-squirrels on account 
 of the nice underground passages the latter make. 
 True, the owls are able to make roadways in the 
 earth for themselves, in a pinch, but they are lazy 
 by nature, and much prefer taking advantage of 
 
 another person's labor. 
 
 The burrowing owl has 
 other names than the one 
 so familiar in the books. 
 He is the " johnnie-owl," 
 the " billy -owl," the 
 "cuckoo owl," the "senti- 
 
 168 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Prairie-dog towns 
 the Great Plains. 
 
 ground- 
 
 Burrows of 
 squirrels. 
 
 Eyes of twilight birds 
 and animals. 
 
THE BURROWING OWL. 
 
 THE BURROWING OWL. 
 
 nel owl," the " how- 
 do-you-do owl," and 
 whatever else you 
 have a mind to call 
 him. Not that he 
 answers to either of 
 his names : he will 
 not so much as turn 
 his head if you shout 
 at the top of your voice. You may think him 
 sound asleep, or as deaf as a door-nail, until you 
 are sure you have him, when lo! off he goes on 
 his wings, or down the hole he runs on his yellow 
 legs. 
 
 Because its name is "owl" you may think it a 
 night-bird, but you are mistaken there. Burrow- 
 ing owls seem to love the warm, bright sunshine, 
 and are able to see by daylight nearly as well as 
 any other bird. But they are most active just at 
 dusk. 
 
 Like the young of the kingfisher, and the wood- 
 pecker, and the bank-swallow, young burrowing 
 owls have no use for eyes so long as they are in 
 the dark nurseries. 
 
 When they are quite well developed, and you 
 would think them old enough to go out into the 
 world on their own account, they may be seen 
 
170 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 peeping from their doorways in the early morn- 
 ing, backing down out of the light as soon as the 
 sunshine strikes them. 
 
 From a distance you could n't tell if it be a 
 prairie-dog or ground-squirrel or burrowing owl 
 that is sitting upright on a little mound of earth. 
 And when a prairie-dog barks and the how-do- 
 you-do owl sings in the same neighborhood, you 
 could n't tell which was which on short notice. 
 When you get close enough to see the stanch long 
 legs of the owl, you will recognize him. And 
 there are his eyes, big and round, staring at noth- 
 ing, as only the eyes of any owl, or of a cat, can 
 stare. 
 
 J^ No use for trees has this queer little bird, which 
 seems, in its habits, so like a rodent. It always 
 prefers the open country, with the foxes, and 
 squirrels, and badgers, and rattlesnakes. Some- 
 times they may be seen in big towns or settle- 
 pients, and again with just a neighbor or two, as 
 if one or two individuals had taken up a quarter- 
 Section of government land. You may anticipate 
 great fun in digging out a ground-owl, as you did 
 in the case of the kingfisher and the woodpecker, 
 but the chances are you will give it up before you 
 'have finished. Should you conclude to go on, you 
 would n't be sure of just how many white eggs 
 
THE BURROWING OWL. 171 
 
 you were to pocket when you got to the chamber 
 at the end of the tunnel, it might be six, and it 
 might be ten, and it might not be any at all, if the 
 rattlers had been there before you. 
 
 The ground-owl family have no fear of cold or 
 storm. They run far back to the extreme end of 
 their dwelling, and cuddle together until the 
 storm is past, waiting several days, if snowed 
 under, before digging their way to the light. 
 
 It is supposed that mice and lizards and insects 
 also see the storm coming, and take refuge in the 
 same chambers with the owls. On this account 
 do the owls have a good store of food for their 
 rainy day. The first lizard or mouse caught in 
 the act of tickling an owl's yellow feet is break- 
 fasted upon, without hesitation on the part of the 
 owl. Is he not a meat-eating animal by nature? 
 And the mice and lizards should learn a lesson by. 
 the example of their comrades, who never are 
 seen, after once entering a ground-owl's chamber. 
 
 Burrowing owls have been accused of loving 
 the company of the gophers and squirrels and 
 prairie-dogs for the purpose of eating up the 
 young ones. By a careful examination of their 
 stomachs it has been proved that ground-owls 
 live mainly upon mice and lizards and small in- 
 sects. As for rattlesnakes, if one of these ground 
 
172 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 terrors chance upon the doorway of a ground-owl, 
 and venture, by mistake, to enter, his fate is 
 probably in advance of him, for, it is said, he is 
 sure to be killed by the owl. 
 
 A curious life the ground-owl leads, never fly- 
 ing in the treetops, nor migrating to different 
 parts of the country to see what is going on in the 
 world. And yet we suppose he must be happy in 
 his own way, or, at least, is perfectly satisfied with 
 what has fallen to his lot. 
 
THE ANNA HUMMING-BIRD. 
 
 HEN your are near the shruu- 
 bery about your home, or in 
 the river bottoms and arroyos, 
 and you hear a humming or whiz- 
 zing sound, stand stock-still and 
 wait ! You will see a glint of lilac- 
 crimson and golden-green, with a 
 shimmer of dusky wings and that is the male 
 Anna hummer. 
 
 He may alight close to you, on a twig as small 
 as a hat-pin, and preen himself, and listen, and 
 doze off to sleep. Suddenly, he will open his eyes 
 at a sound you did not hear, turn his beautiful 
 head, and dart off into the sky. You may watch 
 him until he is the size of a fly far in the blue, 
 when, without notice, he 
 will dart down, and then 
 whirl in circles above your 
 head, and trip east and 
 west, zigzag, in mid-air, 
 and then disappear in the 
 bush. If you wait a while 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Sycamore trees and 
 leaves. 
 
 Construction of spider- 
 webs. 
 
 Habits of spiders. 
 Habits of opossums. 
 
 173 
 
174 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 longer, he will go through the same performance, 
 and you may catch sight of his lady-love sitting 
 demurely on a bough. It was for her he was show- 
 ing off so beautifully. She has no sparkling gems, 
 or scales on her head and throat, like her mate. 
 Just dull green she is, above, with whitish gray 
 beneath, but with the very same slender black 
 beak and feet and clear black eye. She is accus- 
 tomed to the antics of her lover, and pays little heed 
 to him. You will see her take a nap while he is 
 gone into the sky to turn somersaults on the down 
 trip. 
 
 These little birds, not more than three inches 
 and a half in length, are among our best and 
 dearest. They are fearless, especially if we avoid 
 sudden movements, and will not fly even though 
 we touch the twig on which they are sitting. 
 One may take a handful of flowers, nasturtiums 
 or verbenas, and walk slowly about the grounds 
 or sit quietly down, and the hummers will come 
 and sip the nectar, fanning one's face with their 
 gauzy wings. 
 
 At nesting-time the male is nowhere to be seen. 
 He has gone to the foothills, or somewhere else, 
 to study botany among the wild flowers. The 
 little mother bird does not care, and she goes on 
 alone with the family affairs. The nests are fre- 
 
THE ANNA HUMMING-BIRD. 175 
 
 quently very low, as near the ground as two or 
 three feet, but more commonly in a tree. They 
 like the sycamores by running streams. 
 
 If you examine a sycamore leaf, you will find 
 the under side covered with wool, as if it were a 
 sheep's back. This wool the hummer gathers to 
 weave into her nest. Besides this wool, she uses 
 spider-web and lichens, and furze from weeds. 
 When it is completed, the nest looks exactly like 
 the branch on which it is built, so that it takes a 
 sharp eye to discover a hummer's nest. 
 
 But sycamore leaves with wool on them are not 
 to be found in midwinter, when the hummers 
 first begin to nest. It is only in midsummer or 
 late spring that you find a nest made of wool. In 
 winter the hummer finds other material, and 
 always plenty of spider-web. Our cypress hedges 
 are Anna's storehouse for spider-web. You see 
 the little, transparent, glistening patches all over 
 the hedges on a foggy morning. Anna sees them, 
 too, and flies to one and all, gathering her beak- 
 ful without once standing on her feet. If the tiny 
 spiders see their enemy, they run back into their 
 parlors behind the outer leaves, and keep as still 
 as mice. Should they not run fast enough, hum- 
 mer will make a breakfast on them. 
 
 It used to be supposed that hummers eat 
 
176 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 nothing but nectar from flowers; but it is well 
 known now that humming-birds cannot live on 
 nectar alone. They must have insect-food. Gar- 
 den spiders, too small for other people to catch 
 sight of, are their special favorites. Little gnats 
 that dance about in the air, and which you can- 
 not see unless you stand in exactly the right 
 light, are hummer's supper. 
 
 If you make yourself known to the mother in 
 quiet ways, never stirring about quickly where 
 she is nesting, she will give you all her secrets. 
 It will pay you to watch, an hour at a time, with- 
 out speaking to any one. You will notice that as 
 soon as the nest is about as deep as a blue-gum 
 blossom cover, or an acorn saucer, the first egg 
 will belaid; next morning, another, and these 
 two are the proper number of eggs for any hum- 
 mer. Never any more. As she sits, you will see 
 the mother fly away to the hedges, often in the 
 warm hours of the day, and bring back web and 
 lichens. With these she builds the nest higher 
 and larger around the eggs until it is the right 
 size. In ten days you will see the young are 
 hatched in the nest by the way the mother stands 
 up and arranges something beneath her breast, 
 gently, with her beak. Do not be in haste to 
 look, but wait until she leaves it for a minute. 
 
THE ANNA HUMMING-BIRD. 177 
 
 Then peep in and say, "0! 0!" What you see 
 is not so very much bigger than a couple of capi- 
 tal O's. And they are black and bare. They 
 move the least bit. They may possibly make a 
 cry, that only the mother's ear can hear, for she 
 returns at once and settles down above her dar- 
 lings, not minding you right in front of her. She 
 has learned by this time that you would n't harm 
 the nest. You will keep on watching every min- 
 ute you can spare, and will notice that for a week 
 the little hummers are fed as often as every fifteen 
 or twenty minutes. After that, longer times be- 
 tween meals will answer. The mother places her 
 beak in the throat of the little ones, exactly as the 
 linnets and finches do, and gives the food, warm 
 from her own breast. At first the young are too 
 weak to lift their heads, and the mother is seen to 
 turn their beaks with her own, until they are in a 
 position to take their meal. But the young have 
 not much of a beak to begin with. You will 
 notice that they are only pointed lips. But they 
 grow, until in a week you think they look quite 
 like humming-birds' beaks. 
 
 There is something about these strange, slender, 
 black bills which you will never see for yourself, 
 and so you must be told. If you watch a hummer 
 on a bough, napping, you will see it yawn when 
 
 .R. VOL. 912 
 
178 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 it wakes, and put out its little black tongue be- 
 yond the beak. Now, the tongue and the beak 
 together make a very long spoon or tube which is 
 dipped into flower-cups. You wonder, while you 
 see the long tongue, what the bird does with it 
 when her mouth is shut. Sure, she curls it up 
 around the back of the skull when she is n't using 
 it. You have seen the tongue of some of the 
 moths curl up under the chin like a watch-spring 
 when they are not at their meals. 
 
 It would take pretty good eyes to see that the 
 tongue of the hummer is a double-barreled tube, 
 but such it really is. Should you offer honey to 
 the bird, she could not take it. It would be too 
 thick. Nectar is not honey. It is thin, like 
 water, but very sweet. 
 
 Once we found a boy with a little humming- 
 bird in his hand. He refused to tell us where he 
 obtained it, and so we could not give it back to its 
 mother. We mixed honey and milk together, 
 and fed it with a little eye-dropper, drop by drop. 
 Next day we placed it in the nest of a mother 
 hummer, and she adopted it, and brought it up 
 very tenderly, as if it were her own. 
 
 Humming-birds seem to be loved by the other 
 birds in our grounds. They are not disturbed 
 nor driven away. They nest with us every year, 
 
THE ANNA HUMMING-BIRD. 179 
 
 in midwinter. When it storms, we cover the 
 nests with parasols or cloth, and the mother seems 
 to understand. 
 
 It is said that a humming-bird can be fright- 
 ened to death if caught. We never try to catch 
 them in the garden. Once a male flew in at the 
 window, and persisted in flying about the ceiling. 
 We could only catch it with a broom, very gently. 
 When we took it up, it lay on its back as if dead. 
 We took it outdoors, and it opened one eye. 
 Then as quick as a flash it flew away. Some 
 birds, and many insects and animals, do " play 
 dead." It has been said that when a man is 
 attacked by wild animals like tigers, he is safe if 
 he, too, "plays 'possum." So the humming-bird 
 possesses the instinct of "playing 'possum" for 
 good reasons. But this is only when they have 
 not been tamed at all. Those birds which come 
 to know us in the garden allow us to touch them, 
 or even to break the twig on which they sit and 
 carry it away. But if we touch them, it is ever so 
 lightly. We do not grasp them. That would 
 make them afraid, and spoil the fun of having 
 them so trustful. 
 
 Humming-birds do not thrive in confinement. 
 They are never seen on the ground. At nesting- 
 time the mother comes to a pile of old, slacked 
 
180 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 lime and plaster, and eats it, supporting herself 
 by her wings. The tiny feet are unable to walk 
 or to stand on a flat surface. If window-boxes 
 are fitted to schoolroom windows, and nasturtiums 
 allowed to bloom in them, the humming-birds 
 will come and make themselves at home. City 
 houses can have these window-plants, and so the 
 beautiful hummers may be seen every day. We 
 have known them to drink from a saucer of 
 sweetened water placed in the window. 
 
THE BUSH-TIT. 
 
 IHE BUSH-TIT is the smallest 
 of all our birds, save the hum- 
 ming-birds. It is a familiar and 
 abundant bird on all our Coast. 
 In winter, the woods everywhere 
 are full of the tiny things, working 
 for their living from morning till 
 night. High and low, in bush and tree, far from 
 our homes, or right in our gardens and orchards, 
 you may see and hear these little tits. They keep 
 up a constant twittering, whether in pairs or 
 flocks. In ,winter, they may be found in groups 
 or family parties of a dozen to twenty. These 
 are probably not real flocks, as you see in migra- 
 tory birds, but a single year's family all together. 
 
 As from five to eight 
 little ones comprise a sin- 
 gle brood, and a pair of 
 bush-tits may nest three 
 times during the spring, 
 you can see that a single 
 season may result in quite 
 
 REFERENCE TOPICS. 
 
 Scale Insects on fruit 
 trees. How Injurious. 
 How destroyed. 
 
 Red, black, and cottony 
 cushion scales. 
 
 Value of birds and ants. 
 
 181 
 
182 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 a family party. And they have a way of keeping 
 together not seen with other birds. 
 
 In late winter and spring you see only pairs 
 together. They begin to talk of family affairs by 
 
 \ 
 
 YOUNG BUSH-TIT. 
 
 January and February, and may be seen hunting 
 nesting-sites, before the frost has left the ground 
 under the hedges. 
 
 The humming-bird builds the smallest nest 
 among the birds, and the bush-tit the largest, 
 compared with the size of the builder. We have 
 seen several of these swinging nests that measure 
 
THE BUSH-TIT. 183 
 
 twelve inches in length, after they are stretched 
 by wind and rain, longer than any oriole's nest 
 we know of. Both birds work at the nesting, 
 beginning early, while the weather is still wet and 
 cold, like the thrashers and hummers. 
 
 The bush-tits may select any site from the top 
 of any high tree to a low rose or other bush. 
 There is no knowing where you may find it! But 
 when once you have become familiar with the 
 twitter of the wee birds, you will know when you 
 are not far from their nest. Sometimes it is at 
 the tip of a swaying bough, and again it is con- 
 cealed in a thick bush, but it is always hung like 
 a pocket. 
 
 So far as we can make out, one site would be as 
 good as another, but the low conversation the 
 birds have over the matter convinces us that they 
 have some good reason for selecting a certain 
 spot. They must take into account wind and rain, 
 with an occasional flurry of snow, besides a hot 
 spell, especially in southern California. 
 
 We have seen the bush-tits build a good many 
 nests, and examined more, which we have found 
 in different places, and they all look alike. They 
 are exactly the same color on the outside, varying 
 a little in shade, a mixed drab, gray, and white. 
 The nest is composed of mosses, bits of dried 
 
184 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 weed-fiber, threads of plants, sycamore-leaf wool, 
 and soft bits of anything else. 
 
 The beak of the bush-tit is very small and 
 pointed, and could not carry large loads of any- 
 thing, like the mocker and the blackbird. So the 
 nest is put together in the smallest pieces, bit by 
 bit, making a sort of felt when it is finished, not 
 easily torn or broken. Thistle-blossom, and milk- 
 weed, and everlasting, with sage scraps, are hidden 
 away from last fall's harvest by the wind and 
 tucked into nooks for the bush-tits to find in the 
 spring. 
 
 The bush-tits are insect-eaters, and among 
 other foods which they like are the little spiders 
 about hedges and on the trunks of trees and in 
 cracks along the bark of dead wood. You have 
 seen little, round, flat coverings of these spiders' 
 eggs that stick on flat surfaces and are not 
 readily torn up. In their search after spiders and 
 fresh eggs for breakfast, the bush-tits tear these 
 little round egg-wrappers off, and use them in 
 their nests. All through the lichens and plant- 
 fiber we find these little round white disks. On 
 the outside of one nest we found fifteen of these 
 spider-cocoons fastened with threads from decayed 
 cactus stalks. 
 
 One would think the birds would use strings to 
 
THE BUSH-TIT. 
 
 185 
 
 fasten the nest in place, but they do not. It is 
 held by matting bits of anything together, not 
 woven, but pressed and lapped. It it not like the 
 oriole's nest, though the nest of the Baltimore 
 oriole resembles it, in a way. The oriole actually 
 weaves her nest of string or fiber. The bush-tit 
 makes a coarse, strong felt. You may under- 
 stand the difference by comparing a piece of old 
 wool-felt hat and woven-straw hat. And yet the 
 bush-tit's nest hangs to the tree as firmly as that 
 of an oriole. We have not known a storm to 
 tear one of them away. It may become stretched 
 and blown out of 
 shape, but a nestful 
 of young bush-tits in 
 a March storm is as 
 safe as though placed 
 under the barn-eaves. 
 The nest begins 
 with a round, bulging 
 upper end. After an 
 inch or two, it nar- 
 rows into a smaller 
 neck, like a bottle, 
 and then widens into 
 the long pocket. On 
 the side of the long BUSH-TIT'S NEST. 
 
186 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 pocket a round doorway is made, just large enough 
 for one bird to pass in and out. We have seen a 
 doorway in the top, as well, and in one single 
 nest there were three doors. But this is not 
 common. Just one door is the rule, and that one 
 is placed on the south side of the nest, probably 
 so our northeast storms will not drive in. 
 
 At the bottom of the pocket, on a soft lining of 
 wool or plant-down, the eggs are placed. The 
 young remain in the nest until full-feathered, and 
 when they come out they are exactly the same 
 color as, and but a little smaller than, their 
 parents. In our garden they remain about the 
 home-tree for several weeks, like the humming- 
 birds, sitting on a twig at night, snuggled all in a 
 row, like peas, with a parent bird on either side. 
 
 The bush-tits have built in the same pepper 
 tree in our grounds for years. They are fearless 
 of us, and accept bits of things we place in sight 
 for their nests. 
 
 We have brought in old nests from the foothills 
 and placed them in sight of the bush-tits, when 
 they would pull them to pieces and use every bit 
 in their new nest. Once we placed surgeon's 
 absorbent cotton in sight of the bush-tits, and it 
 made them fairly wild. They could carry more 
 of this cotton than of any material they had ever 
 
THE BUSH-TIT. 187 
 
 seen. Cotton sticks together, and does n't fall 
 apart like threads. The "bushies" worked long 
 and well at the cotton until they had as much 
 lining as outside to the nest. But a dreadful 
 thing happened ! Absorbent cotton takes up all 
 the water, you know, and holds it. Common 
 cotton will shed water. A storm came when the 
 eggs were ready to hatch, and drove right in at 
 the nest door. Of course it drowned all the little 
 bushies. There they lay in a puddle of water at 
 the bottom of the nest. We had not thought 
 of the rain when we put out the cotton! 
 
 The old birds tore the nest all to pieces, and 
 built it over again in another pepper tree; but 
 they would have nothing to do with the cotton. 
 They dropped it on the grass. Nor will they 
 touch another bit of white cotton, though we 
 place it all about for the birds every spring. 
 They have learned a lesson. 
 
 The bush-tits are very useful birds. Though 
 so small, they seem never to get enough to eat. 
 And you may see them at the scale on the orange 
 and other trees, as if it were their business to help 
 us get rid of it. If we had more bush-tits about 
 our homes, they would take all the scale that 
 annoys us so. We have seen them hunt in a 
 Japanese vine on the fence until they had taken 
 
188 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 every scale; and the olive trees are their favorite 
 hunting-grounds. Wherever the black scale is 
 found, there, also, is the dear little bush-tit with 
 its cheerful twitter. 
 
OUR WEST COAST THRUSHES. 
 
 yHE HERMIT THRUSH is a 
 
 winter visitant on this Coast. 
 It runs along under our win- 
 dow, through the dripping myrtle 
 and nasturtiums, by the first dawn 
 of the morning. Always there is one 
 bird alone, as if it were indeed a hermit, caring 
 nothing for the society of other people. It is the 
 most beautiful singer of any ground-bird we are 
 acquainted with. 
 
 The sparrows go in pairs or small "companies 
 over the selfsame ground near the house, but the 
 hermit is all by itself, with only its melody for 
 company. 
 
 We hear the song before it is quite daylight, 
 and run to the window to look. There is the 
 hermit, creeping along in the dusk, under the 
 plant leaves, after his breakfast of belated night- 
 insects. Many insects are | ^j^^ TOPICS . 
 fond of moist climates, 
 
 Climate (dry and wet), 
 
 and would die quickly in 
 the dry, warm noontide. 
 
 189 
 
 and its effects on 
 plants and animals. 
 
190 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 So they make home under the violet and pansy 
 leaves, and among the ferns we brought down 
 from the canons and planted under the north 
 window. Hermit knows their habits, and hunts 
 confidently. Why should he or other birds be 
 afraid in our grounds? They have learned that 
 we allow no cats or dogs on the place. We would 
 rather have one hermit thrush in winter under 
 our bedroom windows than the pick of all the 
 cats in the country. 
 
 You will notice that the beak of the thrushes 
 is unlike that of the sparrows. The thrush has a 
 long, pointed beak, but not so pointed as the 
 oriole's. It is exactly the proper shape to pick up 
 small insects, but it would be unable to crack 
 seeds or sew stitches of palm-fiber. We feed 
 crumbs to the hermit on the garden-table, and he 
 appears to enjoy them, especially if they be cookie 
 crumbs. He also likes berries which have been 
 left on the stems on purpose for our winter visi- 
 tors. 
 
 The hermit hides away in dark places by day- 
 time. It nests in the far mountains and forests of 
 the North, where it sings its best songs to the 
 deep, dark woods. 
 
 The russet-backed thrush so nearly resembles 
 the hermit, that it takes a keen eye to tell which 
 
OUR WEST COAST THRUSHES. 191 
 
 is which. But when summer has come, and our 
 winter visitor the hermit has gone away, we know 
 the bird we see is not the hermit, but the russet- 
 back. We do not see him at all, perhaps, for a 
 long while, but just at nightfall, when the other 
 birds have mostly gone to bed, there comes a 
 liquid note, like the drip of water, from the thick- 
 est shrubbery. We know it is the russet-back, 
 and we smile, and keep very still, so we may hear 
 more of that liquid song -drip. Like all the 
 thrushes, it is a ground-bird, getting its living by 
 tilling the soil, like the farmer that it is. You 
 might find it nesting in the moist willow regions, 
 or in the canons, where the little streams have 
 not been all turned into iron pipes for city uses. 
 
 The russet-back is a shy bird, not flying high 
 in plain sight, like the mockers and finches and 
 other birds. If you are out to find it, you would 
 better hunt in moist places, under the holly 
 bushes, where the loam is dark and rich. 
 
 The thrushes make similar nests everywhere. 
 They seldom use mud, like their relatives the 
 robins, but you might take it for granted they do, 
 by the appearance of the nest when it is done. 
 You must learn to examine closely, if you are a 
 bird-student, for differences that do not speak in 
 very loud tones. The nests of the thrushes are 
 
192 
 
 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 packed and felted together leaf by leaf, or grass 
 blade by grass blade, dead leaves and fiber, so 
 that the whole is as compact and snug as if dried 
 mud. They pack the material when it is wet, 
 and so it adheres firmly. Their nests never crack, 
 like mud nests, but seem a part of the damp, cool 
 nooks they are placed in. The eggs are greenish 
 blue, spotted with brown, and you may find four 
 or five. Leave them to the nest, and you may 
 have the fun of seeing russet-backed baby 
 thrushes before they have much else but skin on 
 their backs. 
 
 The varied thrush is quite different from either 
 the hermit or russet-back. It is as large as a 
 robin, and is often called the Oregon robin. But 
 with the varied thrush as with its relatives, you 
 
 must be up early to see 
 it. And you must be very 
 quiet. You will never 
 f see a varied thrush in 
 
 winter if you make any noise 
 or walk rapidly about. Like 
 the hermit and the russet-back, 
 it loves best to be alone, except 
 at nesting-time. The varied 
 thrushes come south in winter, 
 THE VABIED THRUSH, and we know they are here by 
 
OUR WEST COAST THRUSHES. 193 
 
 the vigorous scratching going on in the mulch- 
 ing under the trees. And it is such a striking 
 bird in colors, that it makes a pretty picture, con- 
 trasting with the orange and green of the citrus 
 orchards. 
 
 When the farmer or orchardist mulches his 
 trees just before the first rains, he little thinks he 
 is setting a table for visiting birds. But so he is. 
 All sorts of insects thrive in warm, loose litter, 
 and the thrushes wait until it is moist and well 
 packed before they come to scratch it over. 
 Mulch, especially barn-yard litter, makes a warm 
 nest for insect eggs and larvae, as you may find 
 out for yourself if you thrust your hand far down 
 beneath it some cold day in winter, where it has 
 been spread weeks before to enrich the trees. 
 You will find the earth beneath the mulching as 
 warm as on a spring day. It is here that varied 
 thrush finds its breakfast, and he often digs a long 
 while before he gets down to the warmest spot, 
 where his quest is sure to be rewarded. 
 
 The varied thrush spends the summer in 
 Alaska, nesting in the deep woods, in dark spruce 
 trees. The nest is felted with dead leaves and 
 fiber, like that of the russet-back, but also has a 
 mixture of mud, like the robin's. In that far 
 north home these thrushes lose their shy habits, 
 
 W. S.R. VOL. 913 
 
194 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 and forget to be hermits. They appear about the 
 last of May, and make the woods ring with their 
 musical note, even before the lakes and streams 
 have thawed. 
 
 On their arrival in Alaska, they find berries for 
 food just thawing out of the snow-drifts, cranber- 
 ries and blueberries. They have a gay time after 
 they arrive, before it is quite time to begin nest- 
 ing. They frolic in the woods, and chase one 
 another, and squeal, and have many a beak-to- 
 beak fight, though no one seems to be very much 
 hurt. 
 
 A pair of varied thrushes are said to return to 
 the same spot year after year in the cold north, 
 making a new nest each season, on top of the last 
 year's nest. 
 
 OF VHt 
 
 JWIVERSI 
 
 or 
 
IDENTIFICATION CHAPTER. 
 
 Western Gull (the common Sea-Gull). Legs rather long 
 and feet webbed; bill deep and strong; length, 2 feet; plu- 
 mage pure white, except for top of wings and middle back, 
 which are dark slaty blue, and part of the wing-feathers, which 
 are black; young mottled with drab or brown. Abundant 
 resident along the sea-coast and in San Francisco Bay. (See 
 page 103.) 
 
 Brown Pelican. Length, 4% feet; stretch of wings, 8% 
 feet ; bill, 13 inches long, with large, bare elastic pouch hang- 
 ing beneath ; head white, yellow-tinged ; rest of plumage gray- 
 ish. Common most of the year along our Western sea-coast 
 south of Puget Sound. (See page 147.) 
 
 American Coot, or Mud-Hen. Duck-like in appearance 
 and habits, but legs long, and toes "lobed" instead of com- 
 pletely webbed ; plumage sooty black, more slaty below, some- 
 times whitish ; bill conspicuously whitish, with an extension 
 running back onto the forehead; length, 14 inches; tail very 
 short. Abundant on ponds and marshy lakes everywhere. 
 (See page 93.) 
 
 Killdeer Plover .Legs long, three-toed ; length, 10) inches ; 
 back brownish ; lower parts white, except for two black bars 
 across the breast ; white patch on forehead between two other 
 black bands. Abundant resident on damp meadows and 
 around ponds. (See page 97.) 
 
 Mourning Dove (often called Turtle-Dove). Length, 12 
 195 
 
196 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 inches; tail, 6 inches, wedge-shaped, with pointed feathers 
 tipped conspicuously with white; back and under surface 
 brownish, changing into pinkish on the breast and gray on the 
 head. Abundant in spring, summer, and fall, almost every- 
 where in the West. (See page 15.) 
 
 Burro wing-Owl, or Ground-Owl. Rather small for an 
 owl; length, 10 inches; legs long and bare; plumage, above, 
 dull brown spotted with white, below, whitish barred with 
 brown. Common resident of prairie regions or uncultivated 
 fields. (See page 168.) 
 
 Road-Sinner. Large and pheasant-like; total length, 2 
 feet, of which the long tail takes up 12 inches ; wings short and 
 weak; head with a steel-blue crest; plumage, above, varied 
 with glossy dark blue, brownish and whitish; under parts 
 whitish, with breast narrowly black-streaked ; tail tipped with 
 white. Common resident of the warmer valleys and foothills 
 of the Southwest. (See page 130.) 
 
 Belted Kingfisher. Length, 12 inches; head with a tall 
 crest ; this and the rest of the upper surface slaty gray ; lower 
 parts white, except for a band of slaty blue across the breast ; 
 in the female there is also a belt of rufous brown, which also 
 tinges the sides. Locally resident along streams and sea-coast. 
 (See page 60.) 
 
 California Woodpecker. Length , 9> inches ; steely black, 
 except for white patch on wings, conspicuous in flight; white 
 band on forehead ; yellowish throat-patch ; bright red crown- 
 patch ; white rump ; and white belly. Common resident of 
 oak regions, and of forested country generally. (See page 31.) 
 
 Red-breasted Woodpecker, or Sapsucker. Length, 8% 
 inches ; whole head and breast dull red ; belly pale yellowish ; 
 
IDENTIFICATION CHAPTER. 197 
 
 back, wings, and tail black, marked with white. Sometimes a 
 common winter visitant to the valley regions, where it pecks 
 spirals of small holes around the trunks of alder, pepper, 
 peach, and other trees. (See page 31.) 
 
 Red-shafted Flicker. Length, 13 inches ; body in general 
 brownish or grayish, the back narrowly barred, the breast 
 polka-dotted with black ; under sides of wings and tail red, 
 this and the white rump-patch being conspicuous in flight; 
 male with bright red patches at sides of throat. Abundant 
 everywhere, especially in winter. (See page 38.) 
 
 Anna Humming-Bird (not the "Ruby-Throat," which is 
 found only west of the Rocky Mountains). Very small ; length, 
 4 inches or less ; bill long and slender ; wings narrow ; back 
 shiny green; female with lower surface plain, ashy, tinged 
 with green ; male with brilliant iridescent "gorget" (throat- 
 patch) and crown, of changeable ruby-red hues. Common 
 resident of the valleys west of the Sierras ; especially numerous 
 about flower-gardens. (See page 173.) 
 
 Black Phoe.be (often called Pewee). Length, 6} inches ; 
 bill shallow, but broad at base ; feet rather small ; whole body, 
 wings, and tail black, except for the lower surface from the 
 breast back, which is abruptly pure black. Common perma- 
 nent resident in the valleys of California ; oftenest met with 
 along streams, about barn-yards and stock-farms. (See page 
 21.) 
 
 California Ja^. Length, 11% inches; tail 5% inches; 
 wings, tail, and most of head blue ; line over eye, throat, and 
 rest of lower parts white. Abundant resident west of the high 
 Sierras. (See page 67.) 
 
 Common Crow. Length, 16 inches ; bill and feet stout ; 
 
198 WESTERN SERIES OP READERS. 
 
 plumage entirely jet black. Common coastwise, and locally 
 in the interior valleys west of the Sierras. (See page 41.) 
 
 Linnet, or House-Finch. Length, 5> inches; bill short 
 and very stout ; male with head, breast, and rump bright red ; 
 elsewhere streaked obscurely with grayish brown ; female and 
 young grayish brown all over, streaked dully with brown 
 beneath, but no red anywhere. Abundant permanent resi- 
 dent, except in the high mountains and northerly. (See 
 page?.) 
 
 Willow Goldfinch (often called Wild Canary). Length, 
 4% inches; male with crown, wings, and tail black, the latter 
 with white markings ; rest of plumage entirely bright yellow ; 
 female entirely greenish brown, tinged with yellow beneath. 
 Common in summer in willow groves and cultivated orchards 
 in moist localities. (See page 157.) 
 
 Arkansas or Green-backed Goldfinch (often called Wild 
 Canary). Smaller; length, 4 inches ; male with whole top of 
 head, wings, and tail black, the latter marked with white; 
 back dark green ; lower surface bright yellow ; female duller, 
 without black on head. Common resident of the valley and 
 foothill regions. (See page 153.) 
 
 English Sparrow. Bill stout and swollen; length, 6 
 inches ; general color grayish brown ; male with large throat- 
 patch black ; sides of head and patch on wing chestnut ; back 
 streaked with sooty; female plainer, grayish beneath and 
 brownish above. Resident in towns of central California, 
 especially the bay cities. (See page 114.) 
 
 Western Chipping Sparrow (Chippie). Smallest of our 
 sparrows ; length, 5^ inches ; tail proportionately long ; lower 
 surface ashy white; back pale brown, striped with black; top 
 
IDENTIFICATION CHAPTER. 199 
 
 of head with large chestnut patch ; forehead and line through 
 eye black ; line over eye, and vertical dash in center of fore- 
 head whitish ; young streaked below. Common in summer in 
 gardens and orchards, as well as in native woods. (See page 
 113.) 
 
 Song-Sparrow (with several different races). Length, 
 5^ to 6% inches ; bill cone-shaped ; feet strong ; plumage, 
 lengthwise streaked with brown or blackish, the streaks 
 below joining to form a dense black spot in center of breast ; 
 belly white ; top of head and back with admixture of chestnut. 
 Abundant resident along streams and in moist brushy places 
 generally. (See page 53.) 
 
 Fox-Sparrow (with several races). A large sparrow; 
 length, 7 inches ; feet large ; bill sharp-pointed, but very 
 thick at base ; general color above, dark brown ; below, whit- 
 ish, thickly marked on breast with conspicuous sooty-brown 
 arrow-shaped spots. Common winter visitant in brushy locali- 
 ties anywhere, appearing about hedges and gardens. (See 
 page 109.) 
 
 White-crowned Sparrow (three races).- -Length, 6^ 
 inches; below, ashy white; above, pale brownish, streaked 
 with dark brown, or sooty ; wings variously mottled with bay, 
 whitish, and sooty ; top of head with three conspicuous white 
 stripes and two jet-black ones ; young with black crown-stripes 
 replaced with brown ones. Abundant winter resident every- 
 where. One race (Nuttall sparrow) summers in coast region 
 from Monterey northward, including the San Francisco parks. 
 (See page 111.) 
 
 Golden-crowned Sparrow. Larger ; length, G% inches; 
 beneath, pale brown ; above, darker, streaked with sooty on 
 the back ; top of head with two black stripes inclosing a bright 
 
200 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 yellow crown-spot; young with black head-stripes replaced 
 with brown, but yellow always present, though sometimes 
 pale. Common winter visitant in brushy localities west of the 
 Sierras. (See page 109.) 
 
 California or Brown Towhee. Feet and bill stout; 
 length, 8% inches; plumage almost uniform brown, becoming 
 reddish under the tail ; throat paler, with a margin of faint 
 dusky spots. Abundant resident west of the Sierras. (See 
 page 161.) 
 
 Spurred Towhee (with three races). Length, 8 inches; 
 bill and feet stout, the hind toe bearing an unusually long 
 claw ; whole head and upper surface black or sooty brown ; a 
 few white spots on wings and at tip of tail ; sides bright rufous 
 belly white. Common resident of brushy places and hedges 
 (See page 159.) 
 
 Cliff-Swallow, or Eave-Swallow. Bill and feet small; 
 length, 5}4 inches; under parts white, except for a black 
 breast-spot, and a chestnut-brown throat ; forehead conspicu- 
 ously whitish ; top of head and back dark steely blue. Abun- 
 dant summer visitant, building a gourd-shaped nest on barns 
 and cliffs. (See page 121.) 
 
 Bank-Swallow ( sometimes called Sand-Martin ) . Smaller ; 
 length, 5 inches; upper surface sooty brown; beneath, white, 
 with a dark band across the breast. Common locally as a 
 summer visitant, nesting in holes in bluffs and river banks. 
 (Seepage 117.) 
 
 Cedar Waxwing. Length, 6% inches; head with a tall 
 crest; tail tipped with yellow; some of wing-feathers with 
 bright-red waxy tips ; black stripe on sides of head ; rest of 
 plumage softly tinted with olive-grays and browns. Irregular 
 
IDENTIFICATION CHAPTER. 201 
 
 winter visitant in flocks, feeding on various wild berries. (See 
 page 125.) 
 
 California Shrike, or Butcher-Bird. Length, 9 inches ; 
 above, plain slate-gray ; below, whitish ; wings and tail black, 
 with white areas, which show in conspicuous contrast during 
 flight; a jet-black belt on sides of head, inclosing eyes. Com- 
 mon resident of open valleys. (See page 141.) 
 
 Audubon Warbler. Length, 5) inches; plumage in win- 
 ter, above, brownish gray, dusky streaked ; the same, but paler, 
 beneath ; a bright yellow spot on rump, one on crown, one on 
 throat, and one at each side of the breast; wings and tail 
 blackish, the latter with large white spots near tip, which 
 show as a conspicuous white band in flight. Abundant winter 
 visitant to the valley regions of California, summering in the 
 high Sierras and northward. (See page 75.) 
 
 Yellow Warbler, or Summer Yellow-Bird. Small ; 
 
 length, 4) inches; bill slender; male almost wholly bright 
 yellow ; narrow chestnut stripes on breast, and back greenish ; 
 female yellowish green, paler on lower surface. Common 
 spring and summer visitant to deciduous woodlands and 
 orchards. (See page 75.) 
 
 Mocking-Bird. Length, 10 inches ; tail 4% inches ; wings 
 and tail blackish, with a large amount of white, which shows 
 as conspicuous patches in flight ; upper parts drab gray ; lower 
 surface whitish ; bill and feet black. Common resident of the 
 southern Calif ornian and interior valleys. (See page 84.) 
 
 Vigors Wren. Length, 5)^ inches ; bill long, slender, and 
 slightly curved; above, plain dark brown; beneath, ashy 
 white ; a conspicuous white stripe over each eye ; tail tipped 
 with ashy and narrowly barred with sooty ; rump with partly 
 
202 WESTERN SERIES OF READERS. 
 
 concealed white spots. Common resident of brushy places 
 everywhere. (See page 137.) 
 
 Parkman Wren, or Western House-Wren. Length, 4% 
 inches ; bill shorter than last ; no conspicuous white line i>\vr 
 eye; plumage plain ashy brown above, somewhat paler be- 
 neath. Common summer visitant in wooded regions. (Sec 
 page 138.) 
 
 Tule-Wren (often called Marsh-Wren). Small; length, 
 4j inches ; top of head and middle of back black, the latter 
 streaked with white ; elsewhere, light brown, becoming whitish 
 below; wings and tail finely barred with black. Common 
 resident of grassy marshes and swamps. (See page 140.) 
 
 Cactus-Wren. Very large for a wren; "length, 8 inches; 
 plumage above, brown; below, whitish; everywhere streaked 
 or spotted with black. Common resident of the driest locali- 
 ties in southern California. (See page 135.) 
 
 Bush-Tit. Very small; length, 4 1 4 inches; tail propor- 
 tionately long; color, plain brownish gray, lightest beneath 
 and brownest on top of head. Abundant resident of wooded 
 valleys and foothills, especially among oaks. (See page 181.) 
 
 Hermit Thrush (with several races). Length, 6% inches ; 
 above, dark brownish gray, brightening to deep rufous on tail ; 
 below, white, coarsely spotted with sooty across the breast ; 
 a concealed yellowish brown band across inside of wings, 
 which shows only in flight. Abundant winter visitant. (See 
 page 189.) 
 
 Russet-backed Thrush. Length, 7% inches; above, uni- 
 form russet brown ; below, whitish, suffused with pale tawny 
 across the breast and sparsely spotted with sooty brown. 
 
IDENTIFICATION CHAPTER. 
 
 Common summer visitant to the damp lowlands, especially 
 along streams. (See page 190.) 
 
 Western Robin. Length, 10}^ inches; head, wings, and 
 tail blackish ; back grayish brown ; throat narrowly black-and- 
 white streaked ; rest of lower surface bright rufous brown, 
 or " red." Abundant winter visitant to the valleys, summer- 
 ing on the mountains and northerly. (See page 45.) 
 
 Varied Thrush, or Oregon Robin. Size of common robin, 
 but tail rather shorter; length, 9>< inches; male with back 
 dark slate; below, orange brown, with a conspicuous black 
 bar across breast; line over eye orange brown ; female similar, 
 but back browner, and breast-band brownish or nearly want- 
 ing. Common midwinter visitant in the foothill regions, feed- 
 ing on wild berries. (See page 192.) 
 
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