Chapter II: Part 2

By this time one of your bird houses should be tenanted by a pair of house wrens. They migrate at night and the male arrives about a week in advance of his mate. Both birds assist in building the nest and in raising the young. As soon as the first brood has been reared, the lining of the nest is removed, and a new one built before the second set of six eggs is laid. Wrens may easily be tamed to take spiders and caterpillars (not the hairy ones) from the end of a stick and even from one's hand.

May Fifth

How much easier would be the work of nest building if we provided the birds with nesting material. Scatter strips of cloth, and pieces of coarse twine on the ground for the robins; hair from the tail and mane of horses for the chipping sparrows and wrens; twine and horse-hair for the orioles; bits of "waste" for the yellow warblers, and grapevine bark for the catbirds. None of these strands should be more than four inches long.

May Sixth

In some localities the shad-tree is now in full blossom. As you pause to cut off a few twigs, your ears are greeted by a never ceasing chorus of toad music. This is the toad's "love song"--a high-pitched, somewhat tremulous, and rather monotonous note.

ONE OF TOUR BIRD-HOUSES SHOULD BE TENANTED BY A WREN.]

Notes

May Seventh

Perched upon a stump, fence post, or low limb of a tree, the Bob-white sends forth his clear, far-reaching whistle "_Bob-white_." In the North this bird is known to every boy as Bob-white, or quail, while in the South he is called "partridge." The last two names are misnomers, for we have no native quails or partridges in this country.

May Eighth

The fronds of the sensitive fern resemble somewhat the leaves of the oak-tree, and in some localities it is called the oak-leaf fern. It is found in damp, shady spots, and is one of the common ferns of New England. The delicate, light green leaves wither soon after being picked, and it is the first of the ferns to fall under the touch of Jack Frost.

May Ninth

A low, squeaking sound made with the lips is understood by some birds as a signal of distress. Orioles, wrens, catbirds, cuckoos, warblers, vireos, robins, and many other birds may be called close to one, particularly if the intruder is near their nest. You should learn this trick, for often it is possible to coax a shy bird from a thicket in order that it may be identified.

Notes

May Tenth

In summer the most common of our Northern wood warblers, yet one of the most difficult to see, on account of its liking for the tops of the tall trees, is the black-throated green warbler. Its song is a cheerful, interrogative, "_Will you co-ome, will you co-ome, will you?_" (Wright), or "a droning zee, zee, ze-ee, zee." (Chapman and Reed.)

May Eleventh

Why is it that the usually frisky and noisy red squirrels have become so quiet? If you could look into the nest of dried grass and bark, in a hollow tree-trunk, or a deserted woodpecker's nest, you would understand their reason for not wishing to make their presence known. Keep close watch of the opening, and some day you will see several little heads appear, and in a few days a family of squirrels will be scrambling about the trees. Pretty and graceful as these squirrels are, they do great damage by destroying the eggs and young of birds.

May Twelfth

Wintering south of Central America, the veery, or Wilson's thrush, should now appear in the vicinity of Albany. "A weird rhythm" is the expression sometimes used to describe the song of this bird. Weird it certainly is, and beautiful, as well, coming from the depths of some sombre wood, growing more sombre still as the night falls.

Notes

May Thirteenth

The wood thrush is much larger than the veery, and easily distinguished from the six other species of true thrushes of North America, by the _large black spots on the breast, and the bright cinnamon head_. As you listened for the veery, you probably heard the wood thrush's pure liquid song--so far away that you could not catch the low after-notes. To me, the flute-like quality of the wood thrush's song makes it the most enchanting of all bird music.

May Fourteenth

At intervals during the day, a distinct booming sound is heard coming from the forests. At first the beats are slow and measured, but as they are repeated the time quickens, until they finally blend, and then gradually die away. This is the "drumming" of the ruffed grouse, produced by the cock bird beating with his wings against the sides of his body. At this time of the year it is his love song, but you can hear it at other seasons as well.

May Fifteenth

Visit again the locality where a week ago you heard so many toads, and what do you find? Long strings of gelatine-covered specks strewn on the bottom of the pond. These black spots are the eggs of the toad, and the gelatine is put around them to protect them and to furnish the first meal for the young polywogs.

Notes

May Sixteenth

To find a hummingbird's nest, snugly saddled on a branch of a maple or apple tree, ten feet or more above the ground, requires patience and keen eyesight. Unless you have seen one, you almost surely would mistake it for a bunch of lichens. It is a neat little structure of downy material covered with bits of lichens, fastened with spider and caterpillar webs.

May Seventeenth

It would interest you to visit a zoological park to study the growing antlers of a deer or an elk. A pair of black antlers, "in the velvet," as the hunters call it, have taken the place of the bony-colored ones shed in March. Just now they are somewhat flexible, and feverishly hot from the steady flow of blood that feeds them. If they are injured at this time, the owner might bleed to death.

May Eighteenth

"_Caw, caw, caw, ka, ka, ka, ka-k-k-k-r-r-r-r_." It sounds as though a crow were being strangled. Looking in that direction you see a large black bird fly from the woods to a meadow. After filling her beak with food she returns. No sooner is she within sight of the young crows, than they flap their wings, open their mouths and _caw_ until the stifled, guttural sounds tell you that the morsel is being swallowed.

Notes

May Nineteenth

When perched or flying the bobolink sends forth his jolly song in such a flood of ecstasy that you would scarcely be surprised to see him suddenly explode and vanish in a cloud of feathers. Would that we could overlook the damage he does to Southern rice crops.

May Twentieth

Before now you have noticed the dainty little Jack-in-the-pulpit in the damp, shady woods and marshes. Would you suppose that this innocent looking plant is really an insect trap? The thick fleshy "corm" when boiled is quite palatable, but who would think so after digging it from the ground, cutting into it, and feeling the sharp prickly sensation it gives when touched with the tongue?

May Twenty-first

The song of the brown thrasher can easily be mistaken for that of a catbird, particularly as both birds inhabit roadways, thickets, and open brush lots. The male, while singing to his mate, nearly always perches _in the top_ of a tall bush or tree. His song is a disconnected combination of pleasant musical tones, which might be arranged so as to sound thrush-like in effect, but they are usually uttered in pairs or trios, rather than in the modulated phrase of the hermit or the wood thrush.

MALE BOBOLINK IN SUMMER PLUMAGE.]

Notes

May Twenty-second

Look intently at the bottom of shallow streams or ponds and you will see what appear to be small twigs and sandy lumps moving about like snails. These are the larvæ of the caddis fly. Pick up one and poke the creature with a straw. You now discover that it lives in a case made of gravel, or sand, or tiny shells, or pieces of bark, all glued together in a perfect mask.

May Twenty-third

Keep watch of any brown bird about the size and shape of a female English sparrow, that you see hopping about the trees and bushes, peeping under bridges, and looking into hollow limbs of trees. She is a cowbird, or cow bunting, looking for the nest of another bird who is away for the moment. When she finds one, she will slip into it and drop one of her eggs, which will be hatched and the birdling reared by the foster mother, unless she can manage to get rid of it.

May Twenty-fourth

The Greeks were persistent in their belief that the harmless red, or fire salamander, found only in damp and shady places, was insensible to heat. In reality the reverse is true. Its delicate skin cannot even withstand the sun's rays. During sunny days it hides under leaves and logs, coming forth only after storms, or at night.

Notes

May Twenty-fifth

If there are currant or gooseberry bushes about your grounds, you must know the yellow warbler, or summer yellowbird. He is the little chap, almost pure yellow, who hunts carefully under each leaf for the caterpillars that attack the bushes. The female lacks the reddish streaks on the under parts, and her crown is not as bright as that of the male. Do not confuse this bird with the male American goldfinch, which just now has a yellow body, but black crown, wings, and tail.

May Twenty-sixth

Quite unlike the strings of beady eggs of the toad, the eggs of the frogs are attached in a bulky mass to sticks or to the limbs of aquatic plants in sluggish or stagnant water. But there is the same gelatine-like casing around each black egg.

May Twenty-seventh

In the Northern States, where he nests, the redstart is often seen in the shade-trees along our streets, as well as in the groves and forests. "'_Ching, ching, chee; ser-wee, swee, swee-e-s_' he sings, and with wings and tail outspread whirls about, dancing from limb to limb, darts upward, floats downward, blows hither and thither like a leaf in the breeze." (Chapman.)

Notes

May Twenty-eighth

In the evening you often see a chimney swift (it is not a _swallow_) flying back and forth over dead tree-tops. Each time it pauses as though about to alight, but after what seems to be a momentary hesitation, it passes on. With a field-glass you might detect it snapping off the twigs and carrying them into an unused chimney, where it fastens them to the bricks with a glutinous saliva. One after another the twigs are glued together until a bracket-like basket is made, and in this the four white eggs are laid.

May Twenty-ninth

It is now time to look in the meadows for the dainty blue-eyed grass, or blue star; in the marshes for the purple or water avens, and the white hellebore, or Indian poke; and in the damp shady woods for the blossoming mandrake, or Mayapple.

May Thirtieth

Judging from the name, one might expect to find the pewee, or wood pewee, in the woods only, but his high plaintive "_P-e-w-e-e, p-e-w-e-e_," first rising, then falling, coming from the tops of the village shade-trees, is one of the last notes heard at the close of the day. Short as the song is, he frequently sings but half of it.

Notes

May Thirty-first

Birds are often great sufferers from heat. The open bill, drooping wings, and panting body, all testify to this fact. A bird sitting on an unshaded nest during a hot day is an object for our pity. Fill flower-pot saucers with fresh water, and place them in depressions about the grounds. The birds will get great relief from these drinking and bathing dishes, and your opportunity for observation will be increased.

Notes

=June=

June First

One night last summer, a moth laid a circular cluster of eggs at the end of a limb. Not many days ago the eggs hatched and the caterpillars have begun to spin a silk tent in the crotch of several branches. Every time these tent caterpillars (for that is their name) go out to feed upon the leaves, they spin a thread by which they find their way home. After they have eaten their fill, they will drop to the ground to seek a hiding-place and there turn into moths.

June Second

The fertile fronds of the cinnamon fern break ground before the sterile ones come up. They _appear_ to shoot from the centre of the crown-shaped cluster, and are light cinnamon color when mature. By the last of June the fertile fronds have withered, leaving only the sterile ones which the amateur is quite sure to confuse with the interrupted fern.

June Third

While driving in the country your attention is often drawn to the swallows that are flying about the barns. Two species are common, one has _two long tail feathers that fork_. This is the _barn swallow_, and his mate builds her nest _inside_ the barn, _on a rafter_ or _against the planking_. It is always _open on top_ and lined with soft material.

Notes

June Fourth

The eave swallow _lacks the forked tail_, and the rump is cinnamon-buff. Usually the female builds her globular shaped mud nest _under the eaves_ of an unpainted barn. Hundreds of mud pellets are neatly welded together and an opening is left in the front. As these swallows also build against cliffs, they are known as cliff swallows in some localities.

June Fifth

The nesting season is now at its height, and you will soon see young birds about the grounds. The old birds may be away looking for food. Let us remember that it is better to let Nature work out her own problems. Instead of catching the birdlings and forcing them to eat unnatural food (only to find them dead a few hours later), put them back into the nest when it is possible, or if they are strong enough, toss them into the air and let them flutter to the branches of a tree beyond the reach of cats.

June Sixth

This is about the time that turtles hunt for a sandy bank in which to make a depression where they may deposit their eggs--that look so much like ping-pong balls. The eggs are covered with sand and left for the sun to hatch. The young dig through the shallow covering and take to the water.

Notes

June Seventh

If you wish to see one of the most gorgeous of wood birds, the scarlet tanager, you must find him now, for, after the nesting season, he loses his black wings and tail and bright red dress, and dons the sober green hue of his mate. You will find him living in the maple groves, and the heavy forests of maple, oak, beech, and chestnut. His song, though not so loud as either, resembles both that of the robin and the rose-breasted grosbeak.

June Eighth

In the low-lying meadows, and in the marshes, the towering stems of the blue flag, or blue iris, have already blossomed. Nature has so constructed this handsome flower, that were it not for the visits of bees, and other insects, its seeds would remain unfertilized.

June Ninth

The orchard oriole is far from common north of the States parallel with southern New York. It migrates to Central America in winter, as does its cousin, the Baltimore oriole, who is named for Lord Baltimore. It lives in orchards, and you should look in apple and pear trees for its graceful pendent nest, built of the stems and blades of grass neatly woven together, like the nest of a weaver bird.

Notes

June Tenth

When by pure strategy you have outwitted a pair of bobolinks, and have succeeded in finding their nest, you have indeed achieved a triumph. To be successful, take your field-glasses, and secrete yourself near a meadow where you can watch a pair of bobolinks without being seen. Wait until one or both birds have made repeated trips to a certain spot, then with eyes riveted on the place, hurry forward, and as the bird rises, drop your hat on the spot and search carefully about it until the nest is found.

June Eleventh

The robin, song sparrow, vesper sparrow, chipping sparrow, phoebe, and house wren by this time have their first fledglings out of the nest. They usually raise two, and sometimes three broods in a season. While the father bird is busy caring for the youngsters, the mother is building another nest or laying a second set of eggs.

June Twelfth

In damp low-lying fields at this season, beds of bog cotton decorate the landscape. Its silken tassels sway gracefully in the breeze, and at a distance one could easily mistake them for true flowers.

Notes

June Thirteenth

Although the meadow lark and the flicker are about the same size, and each has a black patch on its breast, they need never be confused. The flight, as well as the difference in color, should help in their identification. The flicker's flight is undulating; while the meadow lark flies steadily, and the wings move rapidly between short periods of sailing. Again, the meadow lark's _outer tail feathers_ are white, while the flicker's _rump_ is white, both of which can be seen when the birds fly.

June Fourteenth

Visit the pool or waterway where you discovered the toad's eggs and you will find that they have hatched. The little black polliwogs, or tadpoles, have eaten their way out of the gelatine prison and are now schooled at the edge of the water. They subsist upon the decaying vegetation and minute animal life.

June Fifteenth

Our lawns are now the feeding ground of the first brood of young robins, great overgrown, gawky, mottle-breasted children, nearly as large as their parents. What a ludicrous sight it is to see them following their mother about, flapping their wings, opening their mouths, and begging for food every time she approaches them.

Notes

June Sixteenth

Leopard frogs and tiger frogs are often found in the tall grass a mile or so from water. Food is abundant and more easily caught in such places than along the streams. By the waterways the frog waits patiently for insects to pass, then springs at one with open mouth and, whether successful or not, he falls back into the water, swims ashore, and awaits another morsel.

June Seventeenth

A family of six young belted kingfishers perching on the edge of a bank, preparatory to taking their first flight, is a laughable sight indeed. Their immense helmet-like crests, their short legs, and their steel blue backs, give them a "cocky" appearance, and remind one of a squad of policemen on dress parade.

June Eighteenth

If the bird observer upon his first birding trip could be introduced to the song of a winter wren, there is scarcely a doubt that he would be a bird enthusiast from that minute. Mrs. Florence Merriam Bailey has come nearest to describing its song; "Full of trills, runs, and grace notes, it was a tinkling, rippling roundelay."

Notes

June Nineteenth

Throughout the mountainous region of the eastern States, the mountain laurel (spoonwood, broad-leafed kalmia, or calico bush) is in full blossom. It is a beautiful, sweet-scented, flowering shrub, and the bushes are ruthlessly destroyed by those who have no regard for Nature's future beauty.

June Twentieth

The habits of wasps and bees differ widely. Both orders are very intelligent. Wild bees live in hollow trees and make their cells of wax. At first they feed their young on "bee bread," which is made from the pollen of flowers, and afterward on honey. Wasps subsist on the juices of fruits, and insects; but they will eat meat. They make their homes in burrows in the ground, or in wood, or they construct nests of paper or mud.

June Twenty-first

The Maryland yellow-throat is more like a wren than a warbler, but it belongs to the warbler family. As you pass a thicket or a swamp, he shouts "_This way sir, this way sir, this way sir_;" or "_Witchety, witchety, witchety_;" and you might watch for hours without seeing him. But by placing the back of your hand against your lips, and making a low squeaking noise, you are likely to bring him to the top of a reed or bush.

Notes

June Twenty-second

It is quite easy to tell the difference between butterflies and moths. Remember, first of all, that butterflies are _sunlight_ loving insects, while moths stir about only on cloudy days, or after dark. Butterflies, when at rest, hold their wings together over their backs; moths carry them open and parallel with the body. Again, the antennæ, or "feelers," of butterflies are quite club-like in shape, while the "feelers" of moths inhabiting the United States and Canada resemble tiny feathers.

June Twenty-third

If you are so fortunate as to have a pair of catbirds nesting in a _small tree_ or a _bush_ near your house, you have learned that the male is an accomplished songster. Have you ever noticed the father bird, when perched where he can overlook the nest, gently quivering his wings as though delighted at the thought of a nest full of little ones? After the eggs have hatched, these periods of delight are more frequent.

June Twenty-fourth

The bracket fungi that are attached to the trunks of forest and shade trees live to an old age. Some have been found over seventy-five years old. They are the fruit of the fungous growth that is living on and destroying the tissues of the tree. The puff-balls are edible fungi before they have dried.

Notes

June Twenty-fifth

Some one has rightly called young Baltimore orioles the "cry-babies of the bird world." The approach of their mother with food is the sign for a general outcry, and even during her absence, they whimper softly, like disconsolate children. For the next ten days you may hear them in the shade-trees about our streets, particularly after a rain.

June Twenty-sixth

The long-billed marsh wren is found in tall, rank vegetation bordering rivers and lakes, and in the marshes at tide water. It nests in colonies in the rushes, and the male will build several other nests near the one his mate occupies. "While singing it is usually seen clinging to the side of some tall swaying reed, with its tail bent forward so far as almost to touch its head." (Chapman.)

June Twenty-seventh

The kingbird, because of its pugnacity, is considered a ruler of other birds, although it might rightly be called a watchman and protector of the feathered world. It is a sober colored bird, save for the concealed patch of orange on the crown of the head. It is always the first bird to detect the presence of a feathered enemy. With loud, defiant cries it sallies forth to attack, and is not content until it has driven the intruder beyond range.

Notes

June Twenty-eighth

The spittle insect, or spittle bug, _not a snake, frog, or grasshopper_, is responsible for that bit of froth found on the stems of weeds and grasses. Push away the foam, and you will find a small, helpless insect apparently half-drowned. The liquid is a secretion from the body, whipped into froth by the creature's struggles. These are the larvæ of the insects which, when full grown, fly up before you in myriads as you walk through the fields.

June Twenty-ninth

The swallows are noted for their strong and graceful flight. Watch one, as he sails gracefully through the air, now swerving to the right, now to the left, and then dipping down to take a drink or to pick an insect from the water, scarcely making a ripple. The barn and eave swallows feed their young in mid air. It would appear that they are fighting, when the food is being passed from the old bird to the youngster.

June Thirtieth

A common bird along the country roads is the indigo bunting, or indigo bird. He perches on a wire, or on the topmost limb of a tall bush or tree, and sings a song quite sparrow-like in quality. As you approach, he drops gracefully into the foliage. His nest probably contains young birds.

Notes

=July=

July First

After a shower in early July, myriads of tiny toads swarm on the lawns and walks. They have just abandoned their aquatic life as tadpoles, and have taken up a terrestrial mode of living. Their skin is so delicate that sunlight kills them, so they remain hidden until clouds have obscured the sun.

July Second

"_Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will._" From dusk until daylight you hear its mournful song. The whip-poor-will spends the day in the forest. At twilight it comes forth to catch its insect prey, which it captures while flying. It makes hardly any pretence at building a nest, but lays its eggs upon the ground among the leaves, and so closely do both bird and eggs resemble their surroundings, that one might easily step on them unknowingly.

July Third

Attached to stones, stumps, and tree trunks along the fresh water ponds and streams, are the cast-off jackets of the larval dragon-fly. These larvæ remain in the water for more than a year, feeding upon the larvæ of other insects. Finally they leave the water, and a long rent is seen on the creature's back, and soon the dragon-fly appear.

Notes

July Fourth

Similar to the whip-poor-will in shape, the nighthawk, or bullbat, differs from it in song and habits,--though, oddly enough, it perches lengthwise on a limb as the whip-poor-will does. _It is neither a hawk nor a bat_, for it is classed close to the chimney swift, and like the swift, it is of inestimable value as an insect destroyer. It is often seen in the daytime and the large white spot on the under side of each wing helps to identify it.

July Fifth

The horned-tails are the large wasp-like insects that we see about the elm, oak, and maple trees. They bore holes a quarter of an inch in diameter in the tree trunk, and in these holes the eggs are laid. Sometimes they get their augers wedged and are unable to free themselves. The horned-tails are destructive, and should be killed whenever found. They sometimes remain in the pupa state so long, that the tree may be cut down and the wood made into furniture before they finally emerge.

July Sixth

Before now you have probably seen the ruby-throated hummingbird poising over the flowers in your garden. Sometimes he goes through strange antics. Mounting ten or fifteen feet into the air, he swoops down in a graceful curve, then turns and repeats the performance time and time again.

Notes

July Seventh

In travelling from burrow to burrow, woodchucks often make roads a quarter of a mile long through the grass. Occasionally you will get a long distance view of the "'chuck" as he scuds to the mouth of his hole, and rising on his hind legs, stands erect and watches you, then bobs out of sight. He is the most alert and keen-eyed of all American rodents, and his presence in such numbers, despite the war waged upon him, proves his ability to take care of himself.

July Eighth

"The interrupted fern is less a lover of moisture than its kindred. The fertile fronds are usually taller than the sterile leaves, and they remain green all summer. The spore-bearing organs are produced near the middle of the frond" (Clute), thus "interrupting" the pinnæ growth of the leaf. It is also called Clayton's fern.

July Ninth

The hind feet of a honey bee are provided with stiff fringes. With these the bee scrapes from the rings of its body the oily substance that is exuded, and passes it to the mouth. After chewing and working it between the mandibles (for the bee has mouth-parts for biting, and a proboscis for sucking the juices and honey from plants), it becomes soft and is then built into comb.

WOODCHUCK.]

Notes

July Tenth

From the depths of the forest and thick underbrush, you will hear the "_teacher_, teacher, TEACHER, _TEACHER_" (in a swift crescendo) of the golden-crowned thrush, ovenbird, or teacher-bird. It is a note of such volume that, instead of a bird the size of a robin, you are surprised to find that the songster is no larger than a song sparrow. He is called ovenbird because his nest is covered over and resembles somewhat an old-fashion bake oven.

July Eleventh

Some "glow-worms" are female fire-flies or lightning-bugs. There are at least a score of common insects that are luminous, besides some rare ones. With some species of fire-flies (our common fire-fly included) both sexes are winged, while with others the females lack wings and are known as "glow-worms."

July Twelfth

With most birds, the female only builds the nest and incubates the eggs, after which both birds usually assist in bringing up the young. Some of the exceptions to this rule are the male Bob-white, house wren, catbird, blue-headed, yellow-throated, and warbling vireos, and the barn and eave swallows, each of which does his share of the domestic duties and takes care of the young birds.

Notes

July Thirteenth

Through ignorance we often persecute our best friends. The ichneumon fly is a parasitic insect that all should know. It lays its eggs in the larvæ of many injurious insects, and its larvæ feeds upon them. A great enemy to the horned-tails, it is invariably misjudged and killed, when discovered with its ovipositor inserted in one of the borings of the horned-tail fly.

July Fourteenth

How beautiful is the awakening of the evening primrose. No sooner is the sun beneath the horizon, than the calyx begins to swell and out springs a yellow petal. Then another and another appear before your very eyes, until the petals look like the blades of a screw propeller. The blossom is often less then five minutes in opening, and is immediately surrounded by tiny black insects.

July Fifteenth

Young spotted sandpipers, or "tip-ups," are able to leave their nest (in a slight depression in the ground) soon after the eggs hatch. It is indeed interesting to watch a family of these animated woolly balls on stilts, running along the shore with their parents. When pursued they sometimes will take to the water and cling to the vegetation on the bottom.

Notes

July Sixteenth

The perfectly round white heads of the button bush are now conspicuous along the streams, bogs, and lakes. The long slender styles project from all sides like the quills on the back of a frightened hedgehog. Although this shrub is a lover of water and damp soil, "it is sometimes found on elevated ground, where it serves, it is claimed, as a good sign of the presence of a hidden spring. The inner bark is sometimes used as a cough medicine." (Newhall.)

July Seventeenth

During the haying season the birds hold high carnival. Robins, song and chipping sparrows, orioles, bobolinks, goldfinches, meadow larks, and flickers, all feed upon the insects that are now so easy to catch. A seat in the shade overlooking a new mown field is at present a good point from which to study birds.

July Eighteenth

Huckleberries, red raspberries, and shad or service-berries, when ripe, are eaten by birds, squirrels, and chipmunks during the day, while at night various species of mice harvest them. The choke-cherries, elderberries, and blackberries are beginning to lose their bright red color, and they, too, will soon be feeding Nature's people.

Notes

July Nineteenth

The pickerel-weed and arrow-head are in full bloom side by side at the water's edge of stream and pond. The blue flower-heads of the former contrast strikingly with the round white blossoms of the latter.

July Twentieth

The female flies and mosquitoes are the ones that bite, and it is the female and the worker bees and wasps that sting. The males of the two former groups are not provided with blood-sucking mouth parts, and the males of the bees and wasps lack stingers. When a less offensive remedy is not at hand, insect tormentors may be kept away by rubbing a piece of fat pork or bacon on one's face and hands.

July Twenty-first

The leaf-cutting bees resemble the bumblebees. Examine the bushes and trees and you will find circular holes in the leaves from which pieces have been cut. Hundreds of these tiny bits are used to line the rows of cells that the bees make in the ground or in wood. The cells are filled with pollen for the young bees to feed upon when they emerge from the eggs that are laid on top of the supply of "bee-bread."

Notes

July Twenty-second

Do you miss the rollicking song of the bobolink? Have you seen him recently in his spring dress of black and white? No; he has sung himself silent, and, as though in hope of escaping the guns of the Southern rice planters, whose crops he will plunder on his way South, he has disguised himself in a plumage of buff color, streaked with brown, quite like that of his mate.

July Twenty-third

"The summer is nearly over when the Joe-Pie weed (purple boneset) begins to tinge with 'crushed raspberry' the lowlands through which we pass. 'Joe Pie' is supposed to have been the name of an Indian who cured typhus fever in New England by means of this plant." (Dana.)

July Twenty-fourth

The ostrich fern is so named because the dark green fertile fronds which appear about this time, and form the centre of the vase-shaped leaf-cluster, resemble ostrich plumes. Mr. Clute says: "It is at its best in wet, sandy soil of a half-shaded island or river shore. Its development is rapid, often lengthening six inches in a day."

Notes

July Twenty-fifth

A cuckoo pleading for her nest of young would soften a heart of stone. With wings and tail spread, she flutters almost into one's face, uttering pathetic and heartrending cries that beseech you not to touch her treasures. In pinfeathers the young of this bird, as well as those of the chimney swift, resemble baby European hedgehogs.

July Twenty-sixth

Trees and flowers must sleep as well as animals. The dandelion closes its petals late in the afternoon, and as night approaches the water lily folds up tightly. Although summer in the North is shorter than the summer in the South, the days are several hours longer, so vegetation is growing here while their trees and flowers are sleeping. This provision of Nature gives the northern Indian vegetables and flowers in a country which we often call "a land of snow and ice."

July Twenty-seventh

The common milkweed is another one of Nature's fly traps. Examine some of the fragrant flower heads and you are almost sure to find a captive held firmly by the foot. "The silky hairs of the seed-pods have been used for stuffing pillows and mattresses, and can be mixed with flax or wool and woven to advantage." (Dana.)

Notes

July Twenty-eighth

One of the simplest duties of a spider's life, is the stretching of a parallel web. Tiring of her location, the spider begins to spin a thread, or tangle a mass of threads together, until they are of sufficient buoyancy to support her weight. Then she fastens one end of a strand to the point she is about to leave, and clinging to the under side of her improvised balloon, floats away with the breeze. She pays out silk until the thread parts, or she finally comes in contact with some object, and so the cable is laid.

July Twenty-ninth

Young song sparrows, chipping sparrows, field sparrows, cedar-birds, bluebirds, and robins are streaked and mottled on the breast during the first few months of their lives. Another noticeable fact is that young birds fluff their feathers, and as the old birds are often thin from care and worry, the youngsters seem larger than their parents.

July Thirtieth

The dobson, or "hellgrammite," is honored with about sixteen other names. Its chalky-white mass of eggs about the size of a dime are now common objects along inland waterways. As soon as the eggs hatch, the young dobsons drop into the water and hide beneath stones for three years, feeding on aquatic larvæ of insects.

Notes

July Thirty-first

The river crab, or crawfish, has five pairs of walking legs and six pairs of swimming legs. If a leg is lost, another will grow within a year. The female lays a large number of eggs, which are attached to the fringes of her body. These crabs have two pairs of antenna-like organs, one to feel with and the other for hearing. The compound eyes are set on two pegs that can be protruded or depressed at will.

Notes

=August=

August First

The mid-air gyrations of the kingbird are not very often seen. Flying some distance into the air, the bird utters a series of indescribable notes, and as he does so, he dodges, twists, and zigzags through the air as though trying to escape the talons of a hawk. After repeating the performance several times, he sails gracefully to a perch on a telegraph wire or the topmost twig of a tree or a bush.

August Second

During the summer, gray squirrels leave their winter homes, in hollow tree trunks and limbs, and construct summer nests. These nests are simply balls of leaves placed in oak, chestnut, maple, or beech trees. A squirrel will build several nests close to one another, from which he never wanders far.

August Third

The _aphides_, or plant lice, are known to every horticulturist and lover of flowers. They cluster on the under side of leaves, causing them to curl and wither. There are a great many species, and they are the insects that the ants care for. They are sometimes called "ant's cows," because they secrete a sweet substance of which ants are very fond.

Notes

August Fourth

The clusters of white berries of the red-twigged osier, or kinnikinnik, so common in damp localities, will turn blue later on. The northern Indians remove the thin outer bark from the twigs, and after scraping off the inner green bark with a knife, they dry it over a camp fire, powder it between the palms of the hand, then mix it with tobacco and smoke it.

August Fifth

The ant lion is the peculiar larva of a fly. It forms small, funnel-like depressions in the dry sand or dust, throwing out the grains with its broad, flat head. You probably have seen an unfortunate ant struggling desperately to gain the top of the death pit. Gradually the drifting sand carries it nearer and nearer the jaws of the ant lion, waiting at the bottom, and finally it falls a victim to Nature's ingenuity.

August Sixth

The moist and shaded highland where the thorn apple, willow, red-twigged osier, and second-growth maples thrive, is the haunt of the mild and timid woodcock. Tracks in the mud may be seen where one has been walking about, and here and there clusters of holes smaller than a lead pencil tell that it has been "boring" for worms with its long, sensitive bill.

Notes

August Seventh

The harvest fly (cicada, "lyre-man," or dog-day locust) is really not a _locust_. Unlike its relative, the seventeen-year locust, which for seventeen years remains in the ground, a larva, it produces young yearly. In the woods and villages, its monotonous buzzing, sizzling note is heard, and is taken as a sign of warm weather.

August Eighth

As though ashamed of man's carelessness. Nature covers the fire-swept forests with beds of purple flowers, called "fireweed." Sometimes acre after acre of these tall flowers sway back and forth beneath the charred or naked tree trunks, a pleasant relief to the eye of the traveller.

August Ninth

Look carefully among the leafy boughs and you may find the home of a leaf-rolling caterpillar. "The little creature begins by spinning a thread and fastening one end to some fixed point, and then attaches the other end to the loose leaf. By means of powerful, muscular movements of the front part of the body, ... it hauls away on the ropes, slowly pulling it to the desired point, where it is held in place by a new and stronger thread. In this tent it resides, eating out the interior, and adding new stores of food, by sewing new leaves to the outside of the tent." (Packard.)

Notes

August Tenth

Families of barn and eave swallows now begin to congregate and to act restlessly. Flocks of red-shouldered blackbirds, mixed with purple and bronzed grackles, feed silently in the willows along the waterways, or are flushed from the grain fields. In the woods the chickadees, vireos, and warblers of many kinds keep company while they search among the trees for food. These are the first real signs to make the bird lover feel his feathered friends are soon to leave him.

August Eleventh

The muskrats now begin to build their winter houses, mounds of leaves, sticks, reeds, and aquatic vegetation, brought from the borders or the bottom of the ponds and streams, and piled from two to four feet above the surface of the water. The entrance to the _one large chamber_ is always below the surface, and in this snug room a family of muskrats will spend the winter, but they _do not hibernate_.

August Twelfth

The Indian pipe, or corpse flower, is found only in heavily shaded woods. Like the fungi, to which it is kin, it subsists on decaying vegetation. Its ashy color and queer, fantastic shape make you hesitate to pick it, and after you have overcome the feeling and snipped off the stem, you find that it soon turns black, and is useless as an ornament.

Notes

August Thirteenth

Queen Anne's lace, wild carrot, and bird's nest, are the names given to the delicate, white lace-like flower which grows in such abundance in the open countries throughout the eastern States. Several flat-topped flower heads are arranged on stems along the stalk, and after the flowers have bloomed the stems of each head contract and form a sort of basket about the size of a hummingbird's nest.

August Fourteenth

"Now comes the season of our insect instrumentalists.... I have called them instrumentalists, for there are no insects, to my knowledge, that make any sounds with their mouths; they seem to be entirely void of vocal organs.... The song is produced by the rubbing or beating of some portion of the body against some other portion, these portions being so modified as to produce the rasping sound." (Brownell.)

August Fifteenth

The small-mouthed black bass is one of the gamiest of our fresh water fish. "The eggs are bound together in bands of ribbons by an adhesive substance. They adhere to stones on which they are deposited. The small-mouthed black bass ceases to take food on the approach of cold weather, and remains nearly dormant throughout the winter." (Bean.)

Notes

August Sixteenth

Often spending the entire winter in southern New York and New England, the American goldfinch and the cedar waxwing are the latest birds to begin nest building. The young have just now left the nest, while the other birds have long since ceased their domestic duties, and the white-breasted swallow will soon start on his southward journey.

August Seventeenth

If you will visit the zoological park at this time, you will find that since you last saw the buck deer, the antlers have hardened-like bone. The velvet, too, is hanging from them in shreds, and the buck thrashes his antlers against the bushes, and rubs them on the tree trunks, in an effort to rid them of the velvet. Soon they will be in prime condition for battle with his rivals or his enemies.

August Eighteenth

Children believe that a hair from the tail or mane of a horse will turn into a snake if left in water long enough. The so-called "hair snake" lives in the bodies of insects, such as grasshoppers, crickets, and beetles. The eggs of the _worm_ are taken into the system when the insect drinks. Once hatched, the worm gnaws at its victim's vitals until the insect dies. They take to the water when full grown and lay their eggs in a long chain.

Notes

August Nineteenth

There are more than eighty species of our national flower, the golden-rod, in the United States. While a cluster of golden heads swaying in the breeze is beautiful indeed, it is with regret that we watch its ripening, for, like the harvesting of grain, and the flocking of bluebirds, it tells us of the approaching autumn.

August Twentieth

The female mosquito lays her eggs in a mass, that floats upon the surface of the water. The larvæ are the "wigglers" that swim about in a jerky sort of way in the rain barrels or pools of stagnant water. They float near the surface and breathe through a tube at the end of the body. When ready to emerge from this larval stage, they crawl out on a stick, stone, or bush, the skin on the back splits, and the mosquito emerges.

August Twenty-first

The narrow spear-pointed leaves of the walking fern cling to the moss-covered rocks, and in graceful curves reach out until their tips touch the ground and take root again. These fronds in turn take up the march, and so they creep about the rocks wherever there is soil sufficient for them to get a foothold. They are also reproduced by spores in the regular fern-like way.

Notes

August Twenty-second

The fresh-water clam furnishes us with a good quality of pearl, and from the shells pearl buttons are made. Along the muddy bottom of our inland lakes and rivers, you may see the clumsy writing in the mud where they have crawled. During a clam's infancy it lives a parasitic life, embedded in the body of a fish. It then emerges and drops to the bottom of the lake or river, where it spends the remainder of its life.

August Twenty-third

"Those horrid tomato worms are eating all my plants. They are positively the most repulsive creatures I know." A few weeks later a beautiful sphinx moth flutters into your chamber window. Do you recognize it as your hated enemy? It is he,--a "wolf in sheep's clothing."

August Twenty-fourth

The cardinal flower, or red lobelia, lives in the marshes and along the streams, where it often trespasses so near the brink, that a slight freshet floods its roots. "We have no flower which can compare with this in vivid coloring." (Dana.) In some localities it has been in bloom for weeks.

Notes

August Twenty-fifth

Some evening after a thunder-shower, take a light and stroll along the garden path, or by the flower bed. Go slowly and step with caution, and you will see large numbers of angle worms--"night walkers" the fishermen call them--stretched out on the ground. Half of their length is hidden in the hole, ready at the slightest jar or noise to pull the remainder underground.

August Twenty-sixth

Woodchucks, or "groundhogs," are very busy at this season of the year. They work overtime even on moonlight nights, for they have a contract with Nature to blanket themselves with layers of fat half an inch thick. If the contract is not filled before winter sets in, death may be the forfeit. Eat, eat, eat; they spend every minute digging up the grass roots, and eating off the clover heads, and they often make excursions into the farmer's garden.

August Twenty-seventh

Butter-and-eggs prefers the unsheltered lands where the sun can beat upon it. It came from Europe and "like nearly all common weeds this plant has been utilized in various ways by the country people. It yields what was considered at one time a valuable skin lotion, while its juices mingled with milk constitutes a fly poison." (Dana.)

Notes

August Twenty-eighth

Be sure to kill any bee-like insect that you see hovering about your horse's fore legs, for it is a bot-fly. After the eggs have been attached to the horse's leg-hairs, they hatch and the horse licks the larvæ and swallows them. Attaching themselves to the walls of the stomach, they live there for some time, but finally pass through the horse and fall to the ground, where they transform into bot-flies.

August Twenty-ninth

The solitary sandpiper is one of the early migrating birds that is now returning from its northern nesting grounds. It is always found near water, singly or in twos and threes. It has a habit of holding its wings over its head as it alights, showing conspicuously their dark tips. Like all sandpipers, it is not supposed to perch in trees or bushes; nevertheless it does so frequently when a person approaches its young or its nest.

August Thirtieth

Have you ever watched a spider making its web? The sticky fluid, which becomes a silk strand upon coming in contact with the air, pours from several holes, or spinnerets, at the end of the body. The threads are guided by the feet, and when the spinnerets are held apart, several strands are spun, but by contracting them one heavy rope is made.

Notes

August Thirty-first

Most crickets die at the approach of winter, but some hibernate. It is only the males that sing, and they do it by rubbing together the inner edges of the outside wings. They live on the moisture from the roots of various kinds of vegetables, and are not above eating insects.

Notes

=September=

September First

In various localities the Oswego tea is known as "bee balm," "fragrant balm," "Indian plume," and "mountain mint." "The bee balm especially haunts those cool brooks, and its rounded flower-clusters touch with warmth the shadows of the deep woods of midsummer. The Indians named the flower, _o-gee-chee_, 'flaming flower,' and are said to have made a tea-like decoction from the blossoms." (Dana.)

September Second

Small mammals are abundant in the Adirondacks. Chipmunks and red squirrels are very tame, and if one sits still in the woods they will approach within a few feet. By watching at the base of logs and stumps, you can often see a red-backed mouse or a long-tailed shrew. The latter is the smallest of American mammals, its body being scarcely two inches in length.

September Third

Mr. Scudder says that katydids have a day and a night song. He has watched one, and when a cloud obscured the sky, it, and all of those within his hearing, stopped singing and began their night song, but as soon as the sun came out, they again changed to their original song.

Notes

September Fourth

What a fine time the robins, cedar-birds, catbirds, and flickers are having in the choke-cherry bushes these days! Twenty or thirty of them may fly from a bush of ripened fruit as you approach. The streaked and speckled breasted young robins and cedar-birds are loath to leave their feast.

September Fifth

It is hard to believe that the yellow butterflies with the black tips and spots on their wings, so common about moist spots in the road, were once cabbage worms. Mr. Packard says that this species was introduced from Europe to Quebec about 1857. It rapidly spread into New England and has reached as far south as Washington, D. C. About Quebec it annually destroys $250,000 worth of cabbages.

September Sixth

The bottle, closed, or blind gentian loves the damp fields and somewhat open road-sides. It resembles a cluster of bright blue buds about to open, but they never do. Neltje Blanchan says that bumblebees have hard work to rob it of its nectar and pollen. Climbing clumsily over the corolla, it finds the space between the lips and forces its head and trunk through the opening. Presently it backs out, and, with its feet and velvety body covered with pollen, flies away to fertilize some other gentian.

Notes

September Seventh

Muskrats, like children, make "collections." A muskrat's "playhouse" is usually placed on a partly submerged stump, log, boulder, or the float of a boat-house. In some such place is piled all sorts of rubbish,--sticks, stones, bones, iron, glass, clam shells, and what not. Near by one may find a thick mat of aquatic grass, used by the owner as a resting-place. When camped in the vicinity of a playhouse, you will hear the clink of touching stones at night, and the splash of water.

September Eighth

Damp, shaded flats along streams or spring-holes, are where the jewel-weed, or touch-me-not, clusters. The orange-colored blossoms have gone to seed and hang in tiny pods upon the stems. Touch one, and if it is ripe, it will burst with a suddenness that startles you.

September Ninth

You must be unfamiliar with the country if you have never felt the sting of the nettle. The rib of the nettle leaf is armed with tiny, hollow spines, each of which is connected with a microscopic sack or bulb filled with poison, called formic acid. When the skin is pierced by the spines, the bulb is pressed, and the poison injected into the wound. Every boy of outdoor life knows that mud will relieve the irritation.

Notes

September Tenth