Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

"Instead of calling on some scholar, I paid many a visit to particular trees, of kinds which are rare in this neighborhood, standing far away in the middle of some pasture, or in the depths of a wood or swamp, or on a hill top: such as the black-birch of which we have some handsome specimens two feet in diameter; its cousin the yellow-birch, with its loose golden vest, perfumed like the first; the beech, which has so neat a bole and beautifully lichen-painted, perfect in all its details, of which, excepting scattered specimens, I know but one small grove of sizable trees left in the township, supposed by some to have been planted by the pigeons that were once baited with beech nuts near by; it is worth the while to see the silver grain sparkle when you split this wood; the bass; the hornbeam; the _celtis occidentalis_, or false elm, of which we have but one well-grown; some taller mast of a pine, a shingle tree, or a more perfect hemlock than usual, standing like a pagoda in the midst of the woods; and many others I could mention. These were the shrines I visited both summer and winter."--Excerpt from _Walden_, HENRY D. THOREAU.

"He saw with a clear and kindred eye, he understood with his heart, the life of field and wood and water about him. The open sky, the solitudes of the windy hill-top, the sweep of the storm, the spacious changes of dark and dawn, these, it seems to me, spoke to him more clearly than to others."--C. G. D. ROBERTS, in Introduction to _Walden_.

=BIRD AND ARBOR DAY=

=AN AWAKENING=

In most of the talks we listen to on Bird and Arbor Day, in most of the poems and prose selections we recite or read to celebrate this occasion, we hear about the awakening of spring, when birds return and trees and early plants blossom, and insects and hibernating animals emerge from a winter's sleep. All Nature is pictured as rousing from the lethargy of cold December and colder January and February, under the influence of the sun, now early with its morning greeting, and of soft breezes which begin to take the place of chilling gales. But what part has man in all of this glad festival of activity and growth! Does he awaken too, and take his part in the general re-creation of Nature?

No, man is glad when spring comes, he welcomes birds and flowers and budding trees, but he has learned to build shelters for himself against storms, to fight the uneven cold with steady fire, and to raise and store food to nourish his body throughout the season when the ground is frozen and vegetation dead. He does not come to life and activity again with the changing seasons, and, much as he may enjoy spring with its multiform beauties, he seldom rouses out of the routine of his ordinary life, except now and then, perhaps, for a fitful instant. Well-fed, well-clothed and well-housed, he still fears the elements and dreads exposure and hunger. He is not a part of nature, but the ambitious master of nature. Only now and then does a man partly awaken from his civilized life and turn to Nature as to a mother. But when he does, when his eyes are fairly open, when his hand can write or his lips speak the truth, what a revelation comes not only to him but to those who understand his message!

It is of man's awakening that I wish to tell you this lovely Bird and Arbor Day season, an awakening which you must try to feel if you are not so choked and stifled in towns and cities by ideas of things to wear and eat and amuse yourself with that you cannot understand the truth.

In all ages, a few men have awakened to the touch of Nature. It would be worth our while to know even their names, but, better yet, to know their message. Some have lived as you and I live, others have lived only in books, through the imagination of other men. There was once a lad who was afraid, afraid of the dark, afraid of horses, afraid of many things. As he grew older, he began to feel that there was much he did not enjoy because of fear, and he resolved to conquer fear. He ran through a pasture where a bull was loose, and outwitted the charging creature, escaping to a place of safety. This was rash. He attempted to drive a horse of some spirit through crowded city streets, with no knowledge of driving or sympathy with horses. This was rash, too. He left his companions and guides asleep at night on the edge of the jungle, and wandered alone into the forest, unarmed and almost breathless with fear. It was a rash thing to do, but as he wandered or stood rooted to the ground, while deer, monkeys, frogs, owls, flying squirrels, and at last a tiger, crossed his path, he began to feel a new sense of security and serenity. He found it very wonderful and beautiful. "A warm, faintly-scented breeze just stirred the dead grass and leaves. The trees and bushes stood in pools of darkness, and beyond were pale stretches of misty moonshine and big rocks shining with an unearthly luster. Ahead was darkness, but not so dense, when he came to it, that the track was invisible ... the moon was like a great shield of light spread out above him. All the world seemed swimming in its radiance.... He wished he could walk as a spirit walks--." ... "Of course, the day jungle is the jungle asleep. This was its waking hour. Now the deer were arising from their forms, the tigers and panthers and jungle cats stalking noiselessly from their lairs in the grass. Countless creatures that had hidden from the heat and pitiless exposure of the day stood now awake and alertly intent upon their purposes, grazed or sought water, flitting delicately through the moonlight and shadows. The jungle was awakening. This was the real life of the jungle, this night life, into which man did not go. Here he was on the verge of a world that, for all the stuffed trophies of the sportsman and the specimens of the naturalist, is still almost as unknown as if it were upon another planet."

"He became less and less timorous as beast and bird evaded him or fled at his approach, and when the moon sank suddenly, and darkness settled down, 'a great stillness came over the world, a velvet silence that wrapped about him, as the velvet shadows wrapped about him. The corncrakes had ceased, all the sounds and stir of animal life had died away, the breeze had fallen,' and thus, calm and full of placid joy, he waited for the dawn, for he had conquered fear."

This is an imaginary picture, based no doubt on some actual experience. It is worth reading because it puts one _into sympathy_ with Nature, even with one of its wildest and most uninhabitable parts. There are girls, and boys too, living in secure houses in village or town, _who are afraid_, afraid of the dark, afraid of the deep woods, afraid of wild, lonely places where snakes may be lurking, or some imagined beast. There are many grown-up people who are more fearful than children, to whom a storm is terrifying, who see little beauty in rough places, who take no enjoyment in fog, rain or snow. It is natural to be afraid, but it is not wholesome, and it betrays ignorance. This kind of fear deprives most people of much that makes up the very best of life. One need not be rash or daring to conquer fear. It is only needful to _awaken_, to get into sympathy with Nature, to see the world as it really is, and not as our shrinking bodies lead us to imagine.

A man died not long ago who for many years had lived perhaps as close to Nature as anyone in this generation. His name was John Muir. He loved the mountains with their vast silences and wide outlooks; the storms and winds, searching every hidden corner and ruling all Nature in their passing; the giant trees of his home country, majestic sentinels of tranquillity, and age-long growth; he loved the clouds and stars, birds, beasts and flowers; he loved mighty waters, whose power man's hand might never check. This man wrote at times modestly and reverently of what he saw and felt. You can learn truth from him. Many other men have seen deeply into Nature, and written with sincerity, pages which we do well to study. There comes to mind the poet Lanier, who, struck by the fatal hand of disease, sought to prolong his life by living with Nature in the open. How delicately and clearly he translated beauty into terms of music and rhythm! How intimately he _sensed_ the world about him! He wrote,

"I am not overbold.
I hold
Full powers from Nature manifold.
I speak for each no-tonguéd tree
That, spring by spring, doth nobler be,
And dumbly and most wistfully
His mighty prayerful arms outspreads
Above men's oft-unheeding heads,
And his big blessing downward sheds.
I speak for all-shaped blooms and leaves,
Lichens on stones and moss on eaves,
Grasses and grains in ranks and sheaves;
Broad-fronded ferns and keen-leaved canes,
And briery mazes bounding lanes,
And marsh-plants, thirsty-cupped for rains,
And milky stems and sugary veins;

. . . . . .

"All purities of shady springs,
All shynesses of film-winged things
That fly from tree-trunks and bark-rings;
All modesties of mountain-fawns,
That leap to covert from wild lawns,
And tremble if the day but dawns;
All sparklings of small beady eyes
Of birds, and sidelong glances wise
Wherewith the jay hints tragedies;
All piquancies of prickly burs,
And smoothnesses of downs and furs
Of eiders and of minevers;
All limpid honeys that do lie
At stamen-bases, nor deny
The hummingbirds' fine roguery,
Bee-thighs, nor any butterfly;
All gracious curves of slender wings,
Bark-mottlings, fiber-spiralings,
Fern-wavings and leaf-flickerings;
Each dial-marked leaf and flower-bell,
Wherewith in every lonesome dell
Time to himself his hours doth tell;
All tree-sounds, rustlings of pine-cones,
Wind-sighings, doves' melodious moans,
And night's unearthly under-tones;
All placid lakes and waveless deeps,
All cool reposing mountain-steeps,
Vale-calms and tranquil lotos-sleeps;--
Yea, all fair forms, and sounds, and lights,
And warmths, and mysteries, and nights,
Of Nature's utmost depths and heights,
--These doth my timid tongue present,
Their mouthpiece and leal instrument
And servant, all love-eloquent.
I heard, when 'All for love' the violins cried;
So, Nature calls through all her system wide,
'_Give me thy love, O man, so long denied_.'"

--From _The Symphony_, SIDNEY LANIER.

No message could be more beautiful or more welcome than this. Not poets and artists, but birds, streams, and the pure encircling air should call us into the open. We may not have the opportunity to wander in the jungle by night, or to climb lonely mountains or penetrate into the glooms of giant forests, but we can get outdoors by day into parks or country, and we can learn to sleep outdoors and feel the health-giving air with every breath we draw, and to awaken every morning with gladness that we are looking out upon the sky and rising sun, with no barriers of blinds and storm-windows between us and Nature. When we realize every day that to live, to simply be alive, is joy, then work will never mean drudgery or idleness and luxury seem things worth while.

If Bird and Arbor Day can make you understand and feel this message, it will be the happiest day of the year for you.--A. H. W.

=JUNIOR AUDUBON WORK=

=For Teachers and Pupils=

=Exercise XXVI. Correlated Studies: School Gardening and Reading=

In view of the fact that valuable suggestions are being received from time to time, as to practical methods of conducting and encouraging bird- and nature-study, it is perhaps a wise and timely interruption of the ordinary Junior Audubon exercise to submit the following five methods for the consideration of teachers and pupils. Each of these methods contains at least one idea which can be worked out along local lines by any teacher with the aid of willing pupils. Some of these methods are particularly applicable to Bird and Arbor Day, for we have now somewhat outgrown the necessity of simply having "exercises" to mark that day. When _all days_ are Bird and Arbor Days, we shall have gained a strong point in bird- and nature-study, and let it be hoped no school will omit some sincere recognition of the day, this spring.

=Ways of Keeping Up Interest in Bird-Study=

=I. A BIRD-GAME FOR THE SCHOOLROOM=

During the years of 1914 and 1915, I have learned a great deal about birds. We have an Audubon Society in our room which I think is very interesting. We have about sixteen members, and we watch and study the birds very carefully. Our teacher read us a story out of BIRD-LORE that one of her pupils wrote last year for the magazine. It certainly is interesting.

One day we went into Miss W----'s room, to have our society together. After we finished the program, we played a game called 'Guessing Birds.' Some one would go to the front of the room with a bird pinned on her back and one of the teachers would ask some one in the room a question about the bird. Then they would have to guess the name of the bird. We had lots of fun playing this game. Some of the children could not guess the bird that they had on their backs. Then the teacher would take if off and put her hand over the name of the bird and ask if they knew what it was.

There has not been much snow in Herndon, so the birds can find a good deal of food without anyone feeding them. With our fines we bought some wire and suet. One day we went to the woods not far from the schoolhouse to feed the birds. We tacked the wire on the trees and then put the suet under the wire. It will soon be time to go and put more suet under the wire for the birds.--GERALDINE SAGER (Aged 11), Herndon, Va.

[Very often the best way of fostering and keeping up interest in bird-study has to be considered, especially in Junior Audubon Societies or bird clubs. The idea suggested above seems to be an attractive one, for anything in the nature of a game usually appeals to young people. Several bird-games similar to "Avelude" are for sale, but these are played with cards, and are not suitable for use in the schoolroom. They make agreeable recreations for the home, however, and their use may well be encouraged.--A. H. W.]

=II. A BIRD CONTEST FOR BIRD CLUBS=

Place............ Time........ Date............

1. A crowned head (answer) Kingbird
2. An unsteady light (answer) Flicker
3. An Eastern city visitor (answer) Baltimore Oriole
4. A yellow conversationalist (answer) Yellow-breasted Chat
5. The pride of the farm (answer) Quail
6. A peace mourner (answer) Mourning Dove

* * * * *

21. Ruler of the fisheries (answer) Kingfisher

Name of contestant........................

[Space is too limited to print this contest in full, but enough has been given to show how it was carried out. The Nature-Study Club of Indiana engaged in the contest, which was gotten up by one of its leaders, "to afford some amusement for the members while they were enjoying the beauties of nature. It was given under a large, spreading beech, and during the time the members were racking their brains to find the proper name of each feathered creature listed, the calls and notes of many of the birds could be heard all around, seemingly trying to assist the members to recall their names. The trip was a most successful one from a nature-study point of view, as the club traversed beautiful streams, lowlands and hills, and found a variety of trees and plants and many beautiful birds."

The approximate age of those taking part in the contest was about thirteen (ten to sixteen years). A prize was offered, and a little girl aged twelve who had thirteen correct answers out of the twenty-one puzzles given, won it.

This form of diversion in connection with bird-study has considerable to commend it as an occasional method to use to stimulate interest and start competition.--A. H. W.]

=III. METHOD OF STUDY=

Miss Mc---- has read your interesting letter to her class. And as I am one of the twenty-eight, or twenty-nine girls in her class I have decided to write, and give you an idea of what we are doing. I think that we (that is the class) are all interested in the Audubon Society for the protection of birds. On April 7 the class had their picture taken to send to you. On Friday afternoon we always try to read at least one of the leaflets of the lives of the birds. Each girl reads a paragraph, and as we read the teacher explains it to us. This summer we are going to have some bird-houses in the playgrounds of the school.

I live out in the suburbs of the city, and generally there are a great many birds that come to our door in the morning. Hoping to hear from your Society quite often; I remain one of the interested pupils.--ISABEL ACORN.

* * * * *

Miss Mc---- read your letter to the class the other day, and we were very much interested in it. I like the Society, and every Friday in school we read a leaflet. The birds often come into the yard in summer, and we scatter crumbs.

We are making bird-boxes, and when the leaves come on the trees we are going to have shelves put up and put crumbs on them. It is nice to paint pictures of the birds and read about them.

In the summer out in the country the Canaries used to come and build their nests in the low bushes. I used to scatter crumbs for them, but they would rather have worms. The Kingfishers came early in the morning, so that we did not see much of them.--DOROTHY DAVIES.

[The members of the Apulia Junior Audubon Society are from eight to twelve years old. The School Department was very glad to receive pencil drawings made from the educational leaflets, together with the letters given above through the kindness of Mr. T. Gilbert Pierson. The way in which the leaflets are used by this society is excellent, and suggests a method practicable for all junior Audubon Societies.--A. H. W.]

=IV. RHODE ISLAND BOYS' AND GIRLS' CLUB WORK.=

=HOME PROJECTS FOR 1915=

Conducted by the Extension Service, Rhode Island State College and
the United States Department of Agriculture

Boys and girls from nine to eighteen years of age inclusive may enroll. There will be achievement emblems offered for all those who do successful work. Local prizes may also be offered for good work and exhibits at local shows, such as poultry, corn and flower shows, also grange exhibits. Boys and girls may take up any one or more of the following projects.

_Home Garden._--Cultivation of vegetables, flowers, shrubs, etc.
General care of the garden.

_Market-Garden._--Cultivation of one-twentieth acre of vegetables.

_School and Allotment-Gardens._--Cultivation of vegetables and
flowers, etc., in a centralized garden at or near the school or on
vacant lots.

_Corn Clubs._--Cultivation of one-tenth acre of corn.

_Potato Clubs._--Cultivation of one-twentieth acre of potatoes.

_Dairy Herd Clubs._--Keeping an accurate record of all milk
produced each day.

_Canning Clubs._--Canning fruit and vegetables for home use or for
market.

_Baking Clubs._--Baking bread and cake.

_Sewing Clubs._--Making garments and repairing.

_Handicraft Club._--Making useful articles for use in the home or
on the farm.

_Bird and Tree Clubs._--The study and recognition of birds and
trees.

Official enrollment cards will be sent to boys and girls who wish to enroll in one or more of the projects mentioned above. When received, their names will be sent to Washington, and Uncle Sam will correspond with them occasionally and send them bulletins of information and helpful letters. The State Leader or assistants will visit the local clubs from time to time, to help them with their work; he will also send helpful bulletins and letters as needed. Monthly reports will be required from each member enrolled in the club work, giving an account of his or her work.

The agent of the Extension Service of the Rhode Island State College writes:

"Inclosed please find a brief explanation of the boys' and girls' club work in agriculture, gardening, domestic science and handicraft work. This is a splendid movement for the Improvement Society to take up and encourage as a part of their constructive work in any community.

"The greatest asset in any community or state is the boys and girls who are to be the men and women of to-morrow. We should see to it that they are encouraged to be industrious and thrifty. Work of this kind will provide a very profitable as well as an interesting occupation for many idle moments after school, and through the long vacations for our boys and girls. At this time of the year clean-up campaigns are being started, and I would like to tack on to the end of that slogan the word 'plant-up.' I think that boys and girls should be encouraged not only to 'clean-up' the rubbish about their homes, but to invest a few cents in seeds which will germinate and grow and produce a picture very much more attractive than can be produced by many cans of paint and, furthermore, if the right kind of plant is selected, the effect will be perennial."

An illustrated lecture on this subject may be secured at any time by making application to the undersigned. Bulletins and circular letters will be sent to the boys and girls who enroll in this club work from time to time. Personal visits will also be made as often as possible if desired.--ERNEST K. THOMAS.

[This is a kind of work every state needs.--A. H. W.]

=V. MAKING A BIRD CENSUS=

There are various ways of making or taking a bird-census, but all depend for their success upon certain rules.

1. Define clearly the area in which the observations are taken.

2. Study carefully the occurrence of species in adjoining localities.

3. Note the differences of occurrence between the foregoing and the area under observation.

4. Study reliable data of other observers, in order to avoid "wild guesses" and to eliminate errors in your own observations.

5. Keep records in a usable form, so that data may be easily compared from year to year.

6. Distinguish between permanent residents, transients, and summer or winter residents or visitors, and accidental visitors.

7. When _in doubt_ as to the identity of a species, _never enter_ it in the record, simply to swell the list. Continued study will enable you eventually to determine the most puzzling occurrences.

8. Record carefully temperature, direction and velocity of wind, and if possible, barometric pressure.

9. Chart the area studied, designating wooded places, pastures, marshy and dry places, roadside, orchards, garden, and water spaces.

10. Study the destination and point of departure of migrating species.

11. Learn both the common names and the scientific names of species if you intend to be strictly accurate. Common names of the same species frequently differ in different localities and are therefore liable to be misleading. Scientific names are easily mastered and usually have a definite meaning, which will help you to remember some distinguishing character or habit of a species.

12. Always be open to fair criticism, and to acknowledge errors in observation. The most distinguished students of any subject are those who profess to have the most to learn. A keen eye and quick brain are indispensable to any student, and calm judgment must always precede reliable conclusions.

A very practical illustration of how a bird-census may be taken is described in Dr. C. F. Hodge's invaluable book, NATURE-STUDY AND LIFE. The school-children of the city of Worcester, Massachusetts, worked together under Dr. Hodge's direction, and made a census of the nesting-species in a city block for two seasons three years apart, showing not only the number but also the increase and decrease of nesting-species during that time.

From Marion, Virginia, comes a detailed census of the birds found in the surrounding county during the spring migration. Space is not available for printing in full this census, which includes some ninety odd species, but the method followed, as explained by the following communication, is of interest, and should prove helpful to students in other localities. "The Woman's Club of Marion has an organized Audubon Society of sixty pupils and four teachers. The three Junior classes are taught once a week from the Audubon leaflets. The Senior Class has helped take the census of Smythe County under the guidance of its teacher. In sixteen field lessons, ninety-four species and eighteen hundred and sixty-three birds of these species have been seen."

It should be added that these Audubon classes work together with the Woman's Club and the Conservation Committee of Marion, thus fostering a civic interest in bird-life among young and old. If more clubs would interest themselves in organizing work of this kind, a great deal might be learned about the local occurrence and movements of birds which would be of use in following their migrations.--A. H. W.

=SUGGESTIONS=

1. Compare the methods of observation of Thoreau, Lanier and the author of the jungle quotations.

2. Which author seems to know Nature best?

3. Do you know the trees in your neighborhood as well as Thoreau did those about Concord and Walden Pond?

4. How many separate things in Nature are enumerated by Lanier in the excerpt from "The Symphony?"

5. Are you familiar with these things?

6. What is miniver?

7. How did Thoreau learn so much about Nature?

8. Are Lanier's allusions to Nature exact?

9. If you wished to tell a person who knew nothing about Nature, what to listen and look for, how many things could you name or describe to him?

10. Make a list of the trees, shrubs, and plants in your neighborhood.

11. Make a list of the spring migrants in your locality.

12. Make a study of what actually takes place during the transition from winter to spring.--A. H. W.

=FOR AND FROM ADULT AND YOUNG OBSERVERS=

=SPRING=

Spring has come at last,
And the birds are flying fast
To our great Northern skies,
Where they think it's paradise.

The rustle of their little wings
Tells us of the coming Spring.
And their little notes of love
Are like the peaceful songs of Doves.

--VIRGINIA STEARNS (Nine years old), Milwaukee, Wis.

=MY BLUEBIRDS=

Early in December, 1914, my brother and I cut down an old half-dead apple-tree, and on it we found a partly hollow log that the English Sparrows had evidently used for years. As I had my eye out for bird-houses, I confiscated it and finished hollowing it out. It made three log-nests, all of which have been used by bird tenants since then. On February 17, I put up two of the logs on the bank of the Ohio River, at a distance of 40 feet from our house, where they could easily be observed from nine different windows.

The site was ideal for a bird's nest. Below, 127 feet, the Ohio rolled majestically by, flushed with the melted snow that the spring rains brought from the mountains, and dotted here and there with floating cakes of ice. The other bank of the river rose 329 feet above the level of the water. It was heavily wooded and an ideal place for all kinds of birds. As this is right in the path of the Mississippi Migration Route, one could hear the "honk, honk," of Canada Geese, the talking notes of the Old Squaw, and once the maniacal laughter of a Loon, as it followed the Ohio to the mouth of the Beaver River, there probably resting and continuing its journey up the Beaver to its northern nesting-ground. Below, I give the dates of the important events in the Bluebirds' history.

February 17. Nest-logs put up.

February 25. First Bluebird seen.

February 28. Three pairs looked at both logs, fought for them, and _my pair_ rented it.

March 21. Nest completed.

March 26. First egg laid.

March 27. Second egg laid.

March 28. Third egg laid.

March 29. Fourth egg laid.

March 30. Fifth egg laid.

April 13. Young hatched.

April 29. Young left the nest.

Prior to March 29, the river bank had been burned over twice for the purpose of improving the grass roots, but the Bluebirds never seemed to mind it, although the nest was enveloped in clouds of thick smoke both times. The last two days of March, and the first two of April were cold, below freezing, with a driving snowstorm followed by sleet; but the Bluebirds' activities never ceased. At this time the male passed the night in the nest with the female, 'twinkling' into the log at sunset. The male was very pugnacious, and seemed not to know fear. He would dash with equal courage at a Flicker or a Song Sparrow, when they approached his tree. Once I saw him actually knock a Flicker off a branch. Perhaps he would not have succeeded had the Flicker been aware of his approach, but the Bluebird came up behind and hit him below the belt. When I would go near the nest, the male would utter 'chuckling' notes, as if to scold and frighten me away. On several occasions he came so close that I could almost touch him.

When the young were about four days old, I set up my camera, three feet away from the nest, to obtain some pictures. The first time the shutter snapped, the female hopped down on to the branch on which the camera was placed, put her head to one side, and seemed to say, "What is this that clicks in my face," and then she hopped all over it, pecking it.

Both parents were often seen cleaning the nest. They began to feed the young at about eight o'clock every morning, and continued it steadily at an average of every six or seven minutes until about six at night, using as food almost exclusively a certain kind of bug that was very hairy, brownish with black markings, and, except for the hair, might have been mistaken for castor beans, being about the same size. They seemed a huge mouthful for a young Bluebird. Several times a day I would climb up to the nest and whistle softly like a Bluebird before the aperture. The young would crane their necks and stretch their mouths for the supposed food, although none was forthcoming.

When the young flew from the nest, I felt as though I had lost a family. My grief was not such that I could not capture them, however, and after counting noses, I found that one was missing. I climbed up and there I found 'runtie' at the bottom of the nest, pitifully squeaking at being left alone. I took out the bottom and extracted him. Finally, after half an hour or more of posing, I got several good pictures of the babies on a dead branch. When I opened the nest-log to clean it, I found a little block of grasses about three inches in diameter and one inch high. It fairly glistened with shed feather-sheaths. In the bottom were six or seven bugs, of the species mentioned before, that had evidently escaped the birds. Exactly two months after the first egg was laid, the second nest of the same pair was nearing completion in another of my boxes. Here are the dates.

May 29. First egg laid.

May 30. Second egg laid.

May 31. Third egg laid.

June 1. Fourth egg laid.

June 16. Young hatched.

June 23. Young have not flown yet.

While the female was incubating, the male still fed the young of the first brood, although not so often as when they left the nest.--WOLFRID RUDYERD BOULTON, JR. (Age 14 years), Beaver, Pa.

[Perhaps no better word of appreciation of this carefully worded description of personal observations could be given than to quote from a letter written by Mr. Herbert K. Job with reference to the data given by Master Boulton, Jr.: "His accurate information about the periods of incubation and rearing of the Bluebird came in handy to me just now, as there is a pair in a box up-state which I want to 'film' at just the right period, and now I can estimate when to make the trip." The pictures illustrating this article were not only taken, but also developed and finished by the observer.--A. H. W.]

=A MUSICAL WOODLAND=

Riding on my pony in a thick-set wood, I heard the "Feathered Musicians" playing on their instruments.

First the trill of the Wood Thrush, then the sweet trill of the Meadowlark, the rapidly repeated 'wickci' of the Flicker, the sweet melody of the Robin, the charming song of the Song Sparrow, and the 'chip' of the Chipping Sparrow, were most delightful.

Far off in the distance I could hear the sweet Canary-like whistle of the Goldfinch and the 'eak' of the Purple Grackle.

The woods rang with the music of the birds, for nothing is so sweet as natural music.--SARAH W. WEAVER (Age 11 years), Baltimore County, Md.

["For nothing is so sweet as natural music."

This naive observation brings to mind the gurgle of brooks, waving treetops, and hum of busy insects, as well as the music of feathered songsters. It has the essence of spring in it, when awakening life so quickly voices itself in melody.--A. H. W.]

=INTERESTING PERFORMANCE OF A TUFTED TITMOUSE=

While taking refuge from a slight April shower on the porch of an unoccupied summer cottage at Lithia Springs, Ga., twenty miles from Atlanta, I once witnessed an interesting performance by a Tufted Titmouse. Having chosen a damp brown oak leaf from the ground, it flew with it into a bare tree, and, holding the leaf with its claw firmly against a branch, it drew itself to its full height, raised its head like a Woodpecker, and with all the might of its tiny frame gave, a forcible blow to the leaf with its bill. This process was kept up nearly half an hour. The bird seemed utterly indifferent to the near presence of my two friends and myself. Once it dropped the leaf, but immediately picked it up and carried it back to the tree. A boy passed on the sidewalk below. The bird flew to a higher branch. At last its purpose seemed to be accomplished. It rested, and lifted the leaf by the petiole. We then saw that the hammering had made it into a firm brown ball nearly as large as an oak gall. The bird flew with it behind the kitchen-ell of the cottage. We hurried around, and were met by the Titmouse, empty-billed, who looked at us with an innocent, nonchalant air. Had it dropped the ball into its nest-hole?--LUCY H. UPTON.

[Who can add any information which will throw light on this unusual observation?--A. H. W.]

=TWILIGHT HOUR AT ASHAWAY=

The western sky, soft tinted with the hues of setting sun,
Lends beauty to the twilight shadows lengthening one by one,
Twined mystic'lly together by the stirring April breeze
That sends a message of awakening through the leafless trees.

The fresh, cool air, bearing the scent of new-ploughed earth
Gives promise of the future harvest soon to have its birth,
When garden, field and orchard, now wearing brown and gray,
Shall change these duller colors for the vernal green of May;

The farmer reads the happy signs and whistles in true glee
Jangling in haste his cans and milk-pails merrily;
While lazy cattle straggle up the rocky barnyard way,
And the impatient horses paw and whinny for their hay.

A scuffle and a cackle in the hen-coop near at hand
Give token where the mother hen broods o'er her fledgling band,
And Spotty seeks the hay-mow, purring loudly in her pride,
For there, in safety waiting her, three kittens do abide.

The Robins and the Bluebirds call and answer all around,
And the cheerful little peeptoads seem to crowd the air with sound,--
And yet it is not noisy. Joyous peace is everywhere,
And a consciousness of Heaven makes the twilight hour more fair.

--RUTH R. HAYDEN.

[This poem was written by a student in The Rhode Island State
Normal School. It is of unusual interest since the author, although
blind, undertook the course in nature-study and succeeded so well
that her instructor writes: "I am tempted to say that only those
are blind who _won't see_. I am convinced that the subject is most
valuable for classes in schools of the blind." See BIRD-LORE, Vol.
XIII, No. 6, p. 316.--A. H. W.]

* * * * *

Photographed by E. Jack]

* * * * *

=THE CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER=

By T. GILBERT PEARSON

The National Association of Audubon Societies

EDUCATIONAL LEAFLET NO. 85

Among the most charming birds in the world are the members of that group classified as the family of Wood Warblers. There are about one hundred and fifty-five known species, and they are found in no other country but America. Seventy-four kinds occur in North America, and fifty-five of these have been recorded in the United States.

They are small birds, the majority measuring rather less than five and one-half inches from bill-tip to tail-tip. They are birds mainly of woods and thickets, a few only venturing into open country. The Warbler's bill is longer than that of most small birds, and is well adapted for seizing the soft-bodied insects upon which it so largely preys.

One of the most common members of the family in the Eastern States is the Chestnut-sided Warbler. The general appearance of the male is that of a particularly trim little bird with olive-green back and bright yellow crown; the under parts are lighter, and the sides are marked by deep chestnut--that is, this is the way the male looks in spring. At this season the female is quite similar, although its colors are duller. In the fall and winter the plumage presents a very different appearance. The upper parts then are yellowish olive-green, sometimes with faint streaks on the back. The deep-chestnut of the sides has given way to a few spots or patches of this color.

In seeking the Chestnut-sided Warbler, one should go to woodlands that have been cut over and grown up in bushes. There are found the conditions which this bird dearly loves, and in such a situation one may pass a whole forenoon and seldom be out of sight or hearing of one or more of them.

The nest is made of strips of bark, soft dead leaf-stems, and similar material; it is lined with tendrils and rootlets. Usually the nest is from two and a half to three and a half feet from the ground. Rarely have I found one so situated that it could not readily be reached by the spring of an agile house-cat, and there is much evidence to show that many are pulled down every year by these feline hunters.

It is commonly reported that as many as five eggs are deposited in the nest before the bird begins sitting, but fully three-fourths of those nests that I have found contained only four eggs. They are white, with numerous brown markings of various shades--some distinct, others more or less obscure, as if the inside of the shell had been painted and the color was showing through. The spots and blotches are gathered chiefly in a wreath about the larger end.

Order--PASSERES

Family--_Mniotiltidæ_

Genus--Dendroica

Species--pennsylvanica

National Association of Audubon Societies]

They are pretty, dainty little objects, as is the case with all Warblers' eggs. In size, they are about two-thirds of an inch long, and half an inch in diameter at the largest place.

In the latitude of Boston, fresh eggs may usually be found late in May or in the first week of June.

The Chestnut-sided Warbler feeds almost exclusively on insects. John James Audubon wrote that once in Pennsylvania, during a snowstorm in early spring, he examined the dead bodies of several, and found that their stomachs contained only grass-seeds and a few spiders. The birds were very poor, and evidently were in a half-starved condition, which would probably account for the fact that they had been engaged in such an un-warbler-like act as eating seeds. Ordinarily this bird is highly insectivorous, and feeds very largely on leaf-eating caterpillars. It also collects plant-lice, ants, leaf-hoppers, small bark-beetles, and, in fact, is a perfect scourge to the small insect-life inhabiting the foliage of the bushes and trees where it makes its home. Sometimes the birds take short flights in the air after winged insects. It will thus be seen that the Chestnut-sided Warbler is of decided value as a guardian of trees, which is reason enough why the legislators of the various states where the bird is found were induced to enact the Audubon Law for its protection.

All birds that depend so much on insects for their livelihood as does the Chestnut-sided Warbler are necessarily highly migratory. By the middle of September nearly all have departed from their summer home, which, we may say roughly, covers the territory of the southern Canadian Provinces from Saskatchewan eastward, and extends southward as far as Ohio and New Jersey. They are also found in summer along the Alleghany Mountains in Tennessee and South Carolina. Most of the migrants go to Central America by way of the Gulf of Mexico, and only a comparatively small number travel to Florida and the Bahama Islands.

The song of the Chestnut-sided Warbler is confused in the minds of some listeners with that of the Yellow Warbler. Mathews says the song resembles the words, "I wish, I wish, I wish to see Miss Beecher."

Mr. Clinton G. Abbott, writing in BIRD-LORE in 1909, told most entertainingly of the fortunes of a pair of these Warblers and their nest, which he watched one summer. After telling of finding a nest from which all the eggs had been thrown but one, and in their place had been deposited two eggs of the Cowbird, he says:

"The nest was found at Rhinebeck, New York, on July 6, 1900, incubation having apparently just started. Four days later I discovered that one of the Cowbird's eggs was infertile; so I removed it from the nest, disappointed that I should not, after all, enjoy the somewhat unique experience of observing two young Cowbirds growing up in the same nest. It was some time during the night of July 13-14 that the first of the remaining two eggs hatched--the Cowbird's of course. The Warbler's hatched between twelve and twelve-thirty o'clock on the 14th. The nicety with which matters had been so arranged that the young Cowbird would have just a convenient start in life over its unfortunate rival commanded at least my admiration if not my sympathy. Cowbirds must indeed be sharp nest-finders to be able to discover at short notice not only the nests of certain suitable kinds of birds, but even nests containing eggs at a certain stage of incubation!

"After the hatching of the eggs, I spent considerable time at the nest-side, and observed with interest the many pretty little incidents of a bird's domestic life--the constant and tender brooding of the newly hatched young by both Warblers in turn; the never-ceasing search among the neighboring trees and bushes for small caterpillars; the delivery of the food by the male to the brooding female, who, in turn, would raise herself and pass it to the young; the careful cleansing of the nest; and many other intimate details of the birds' loving and happy lives. When I drew aside the leaves that sheltered the nest and allowed the sun to shine upon it for purposes of photography, the mother, realizing with that wonderful instinct common to all birds which nest in the shade, the fatal effect on her babies of the sun's direct rays, would take her stand on the edge of the nest and with outstretched wings would form of her own body a living shield for the comfort and protection of her young. Although herself in evident distress from the heat, and with parted mandibles continually gasping for air, she would remain in this position as long as the sun shone upon her, only stepping aside occasionally when a well-known signal announced that her husband had arrived with a meal for the little ones. It was a beautiful picture of parental devotion.

"As the young birds began to grow, the Cowbird not only maintained, but rapidly increased its lead over its small nest-mate. At every visit of the parent bird with food, its capacious gullet could be seen violently waving aloft and almost completely hiding the feeble little mouth of the Warbler, whose owner was pathetically doing its best in a dumb appeal for food. The Cowbird's appetite seemed never to be satiated and, unlike most nestlings, which relapse after a meal and give their brethren the next chance, he seemed ready for every fresh opportunity; and, by reason of his superior display, he usually succeeded in obtaining the coveted morsel. However, the young Warbler did manage to get an occasional portion, and I had strong hopes that he might reach maturity. For I realized that a Chestnut-sided Warbler's usual laying is about five eggs, and that therefore some four eggs must have been made to give place to the two Cowbird's. Hence the young Cowbird in the nest might reasonably be granted the room and food of four young Warblers. More than this I hoped he was not getting.

"On July 18, at 3.30 P. M., when the birds were about four days old, I took them from the nest to compare their sizes. I replaced them in the nest, but that was the last I saw of the poor little Warbler. When I returned at 5 P. M., the Cowbird was in sole and triumphant possession of the nest. Just what became of the Chestnut-sided Warbler will never be known, but my theory is that, weakened by lack of sufficient food, the little fellow at last became too feeble to raise himself at all, and was crushed to death by the Cowbird's gross body. The parent birds, returning and finding the little corpse in the bottom of the nest, were no doubt impelled by their instinctive sense of cleanliness to carry it to a distance; for the most careful search over a large area beneath the nest failed to reveal any sign of the missing bird, thus proving that it had not fallen from the nest nor been forced out by the Cowbird.

"The Cowbird now had things all his own way and, there being no one to dispute his right to all the food, he grew with amazing rapidity. The dainty little cup of a nest, never built to accommodate such a monster, was soon completely forced out of shape. His body then protruded beyond the lower rim of the nest, and the ground underneath became littered with droppings, quite baffling the cleanly, sanitary instincts of the Warblers.

"The Cowbird, now almost twice as large as his devoted foster-parents, rises with hideous chitterings of delight to receive an ever-acceptable meal. I visited the nest at 7.30 A. M., on July 26. As I walked home to breakfast, I resolved that in the interests of justice I ought to put an end to that Cowbird, as a murderer and a menace to the welfare of birddom. But when I returned to the spot, about 9 A. M., he had escaped me; the nest was empty, my bird flown. No doubt, if I had searched and listened, I should have heard him shouting for food not far away; but my spirit of vengeance was only half-hearted at best, and so I left him, a criminal abroad, to be the parent, I suppose, of others as bad."

=The Audubon Societies=

EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT

Edited by T. GILBERT PEARSON, Secretary

Address all correspondence, and send all remittances for dues and contributions, to the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City.

WILLIAM DUTCHER, _President_

FREDERIC A. LUCAS, _Acting President_

THEODORE S. PALMER, _First Vice President_

T. GILBERT PEARSON, _Secretary_

JONATHAN DWIGHT, JR., _Treasurer_

SAMUEL T. CARTER, JR., _Attorney_

Any person, club, school or company in sympathy with the objects of this Association may become a member of it, and all are welcome.

Classes of Membership in the National Association of Audubon Societies for the Protection of Wild Birds and Animals:

=$5 annually pays for a Sustaining Membership=
=$100 paid at one time constitutes a Life Membership=
=$1,000 constitutes a person a Patron=
=$5,000 constitutes a person a Founder=
=$25,000 constitutes a person a Benefactor=

FORM OF BEQUEST:--I do hereby give and bequeath to The National Association of Audubon Societies for the Protection of Wild Birds and Animals (Incorporated), of the City of New York.

=A CASE IN POINT=

In the last issue of BIRD-LORE were reproduced some photographs of a ruined White Ibis rookery, which Dr. Herbert R. Mills stated had been destroyed by "sportsmen" who had wantonly shot the birds. Such raids on the bird-life of Florida have been made frequently by northern visitors to the state. A striking example of this habit has just come to public notice.

In the February issue of _Scribner's Magazine_, a writer, after referring to the pleasures he enjoyed while catching tarpon at Bocagrande, says:

"Birds were always flying around the boat; Gulls, Man-o'-wars, Pelicans, and when we weren't fishing we were potting at them with a Winchester .22. The Big Chief was a wizard with a rifle, and even skimming Swallows were none too swift or too small for his Deadeye Dick precision of aim. After cutting down a sailing Man-o'-war, two hundred yards above the water, and surely three hundred yards away, he formed a Man-o'-war's Club; any body who killed one flying was entitled to membership."

All these birds are protected by the laws of Florida and at least one of them by the United States Migratory Bird Law. There is no open season for any of them. The man who wrote this is not a poor, illiterate inhabitant of the southern swamps, who killed the birds to sell their feathers for a few dollars with which to help feed his family; but is a successful writer of novels and stories, many of which you and I have bought and read with pleasure. Incidentally, by our purchase of his work, we have aided in swelling his royalties, thus enabling him to go to Bocagrande, and doubtless elsewhere, where he might amuse himself from time to time in the very delectable sport of shooting harmless non-game birds. This man is John Fox, Jr.

As a result of the work of this Association, the Pelican colonies in Charlotte Harbor near Bocagrande have been made Federal bird-reservations. While attempting to protect one of them, Columbus G. McLeod, one of our wardens, had his head chopped open and his body sunk in the harbor by persons who did not approve of his zeal. These birds--the wards of the Government, the birds that the Audubon Society's members have been giving money to protect, and the birds for which one good man has given up his life--these birds afford targets for Mr. John Fox Jr., and his friends; and _Scribner's Magazine_, doubtless greatly pleased at the privilege of being allowed to publish an article from the pen of a gentleman so distinguished, kind and altruistic, has taken these boasting sentences and printed them, regardless of the fact that the magazine will go into thousands of homes to be read by young men who may later go tarpon-fishing in the limpid waters about Bocagrande, and who might be inspired to follow the example of the noble deeds of this celebrated novelist.

We are glad to reproduce here an open letter written to him by Doctor William F. Blackman, President of the Florida State Audubon Society:

"_Dear Sir_: As a tarpon fisherman, holding the record in a recent year for the largest fish taken in the state, I was much interested in your article in the February Issue of _Scribner's Magazine_, on 'Tarpon Fishing at Bocagrande.' But when you told your readers that you and your companions beguiled your leisure, on this occasion, by 'potting with a Winchester .22' at the Gulls, Man-o'-wars, Pelicans, and skimming Swallows which surrounded your boat, you surprised and pained and disgusted me beyond words.

"You doubtless knew that all these birds are protected by the laws of Florida, and some of them by the Federal laws also; your action was deliberately criminal; it was also unspeakably puerile, wanton, cruel, and vulgar.