882 RuRi^.L School Leaflet. 



My Dear Uncle John: 



The weather has been so cold that we have not seen many birds this 

 winter. No one in our nature-study club has seen the red-polls or the 

 pine-grosbeaks, but some have seen the blue-jays. 



Coming to school this morning my teacher saw a white -breasted nut- 

 hatch, busily working at the bark of a tree. I admired its grace and 

 ease in clinging to the bark and its pretty feathers which always seem to 

 be so well kept. 



I like the piece in the Leaflet about bird houses very much. I have 

 two bird houses at home. One is made to represent a small dwelling 

 house, and has about six openings with a porch in front. It is on a pole 

 about twenty feet from the ground, and is painted a dull green. 



The first year the sparrows succeeded in driving away all the other 

 birds, but last year they were finally overcome by the purple martins 

 of whom quite a number stayed all summer. The martins are favorites 

 at our house, because in the dead of summer, when other birds are quiet, 

 they still keep up their singing. 



The other bird house is a rude construction with a large opening in 

 front. I put it in an apple-tree in front of a window from which I could 

 easily watch the occupants, who were a happy family of robin-red- 

 breasts. I learned much about the robins from this home. 



One clear frosty morning I was attracted by a clear sweet whistle of 

 two notes, which I decided came from a small bird up in a maple tree. 

 The sun dazzled my eyes so that I could not tell the color or the mark- 

 ings. Another bird some distance away answered it with the same call, 



I have just six different kinds of birds on my this year's Bird Calendar. 

 I have not got a field glass, but I saw sixty-one different kinds last year. 



Yours truly, 



Hazel 



Dear Uncle John: 



We are going to have the last meeting of our Nature-Study Club this 



Friday. I thought you would like to hear some interesting things about 



our pigs, so 1 wrote this letter. May 5th my father brought home with 



him two little pigs, one was black and white, and the other was white. 



We kept them in a box stall until we had the pen finished. We named 



the black and white one Spot, and the other Jack. Oh! such squealing 



when we put them in the pen. We now give them bread and milk 



every morning, noon, and night. Spot eats before he drinks, and Jack 



drinks before he eats. There are many funny things to tell but I have 



not time to write them now. Yours truly, 



Dorothy 



