1907] Some Notes on Winter Birds. 219 



Another tried to make a meal of a wooden decoy duck. Manx 

 were brought to local taxidermists. 



The pretty pine grosbeak [Pinicola emicleator lencurus) is 

 repeating his performance of three winters ago and is paving us a 

 visit in numbers. They put in an earlier appearance than usual. 

 The first ones were seen Nov. 3rd near the rifle range and on 

 Nov. 5th one was found dead on the Experimental Farm. At the 

 same time and before, they were extremely abundant near Pem- 

 broke, and from then until now they have remained with us, 

 right in the city. They frequent the many mountain ash trees' 

 upon which they gorge themselves on the berries. They -do not, 

 however, eat the pulp so much as the seed. The old males are 

 of a gorgeous rose- red, the female and young are ashy gray, with 

 greenish yellow on the crown and rump ; the wings are crossed 

 by a white bar. The females and young greatly predominate in 

 numbers. They are, as a rule, very unsuspicious of man, and 

 allow a very close approach, and this unsuspiciousness is often 

 their undoing at the hands of boys, who should be restrained. On 

 Jan. 21st, I noticed a flock of ten on a mountain ash tree near the 

 corner of Bank and Oueen sts. Some of these would flv down or\ 

 the sidewalk and street to eat the fallen berries and would hardly 

 move away for the passers-by. They should be protected, and, if 

 necessary, fed to keep them here. Other articles of food of which 

 they are fond are sumac berries and the buds aud tips of twigs of 

 evergreen trees. Broken nuts and suet will attract most birds to 

 the house in winter. 



The snowflake [Plectrophenax nivalis) also put in an early 

 appearance. The first were seen Oct. 27th on Kettle Island. 

 Great flocks of them were common for several weeks around the 

 city, when they just as suddenly disappeared. 



A single specimen of the beautiful Bohemian waxwing or chat- 

 terer {Ampelis garruius) found its way into the city on Dec. 2. It 

 took up its stand in a little mountain ash tree on Russell Avenue, 

 right over the sidewalk, and if passers-by became too numerous 

 would shift its headquarters to another tree of the same kind 

 across the street. Here it remained, all alone, save the pesky 

 sparrows, for six days. At first it would almost allow itself to be 



