164 TRANSACTIONS OF THE ILLINOIS 



dela)'ed until after the first autumn snows; sometimes weeks of 

 pleasant sunny weather follow their flight. Then follow from the 

 northward other familiar visitors. Whole flocks of purple finches, 

 pino gross beaks, Bohemian waxwings, with other northern l)irds, 

 seeking the scarlet mountain-ash berries and weed seeds froui our 

 prairies and marshes. If the forage be plentiful and the weather 

 pr()]utious these remain through the winter; if otherwise, they pass 

 ou farther southward in their turn, where the conditions of life are 

 more favorable. Thus the winter passes and we look once more for 

 their return in the reverse order of their going. The last are first 

 and the first last. Those that left in November will return early in 

 March, while those that left in x4.ugust or early in Sei)tember, will 

 linger under tropical skies until late May or early June before re- 

 turning to us. They use this northern clime for a suminer resort, as 

 one goes to the seashore during the hot months. Yet they manage 

 to crowd into three or four months not only all their love-making 

 and honey-mooning, but also all the serious work and business of the 

 year, the constructing of the home, the rearing of the family, and 

 all the duties they owe to their kind, and then off again for the 

 tropics for eight or nine months of frolicsome delight or luxurious 

 ease. It does seem strange that all the business of the year should 

 be crowded into so small a space of time, but the fact remains un- 

 questioned. 



Notwithstanding the unusual severity of Ust winter our birds 

 returned a little earlier than usual. Bluebirds were here on the first 

 of March, and I noticed on the third of March a female bluel)ird 

 trying to squeeze herself into a hollow walnut knot in search of a 

 safe and cosy resting place, while the male was flying from tree to 

 tree with merry twitterings, followed by a small flock of snow-birds 

 — a very unusual combination. 



By the way. what rarely social fellows these snow-birds are. 

 They keep company with sparrows, finches, nuthatches or titmice, 

 and seldom refuse any company that offers. They are often seen in 

 flocks of fifty to a hundred birds, mainly of their own kind, but in- 

 cluding several others, especiall_y lively and wide-awake in the face of 

 au approaching snow storm, the most depressing circumstances 

 seeming to make them, like Mark Tapley, "uncommon jolly." 



Robins came this year on the second day of March and bore the 

 severe weather that followed like heroes. Their '^ cheer up, cheer 

 up,'' relieved many a clear frosty morning of its chilliness, for who 

 can doubt its being spring when we hear the robins singing. Later 

 in the season our particular robin built his nest on a low Norway 

 spruce limb, al)out fifteen feet from our front door, and raised two 

 successive broods in the same nest, Mrs. Robin not even asking to 

 have the walls rej)apered. Then the same brave pair 1)uilt a new nest 

 in a neighboriug tree, where their third brood of the season was suc- 

 cessfully reared. It was better than any circus to see the patriarch 



