232 PINE GROSBEAK 



hood it creates general interest and curiosity, for 

 the birds are so large and richly colored that 

 they are hard to overlook. Indeed, queries often 

 ajipear in the country newspapers as to what the 

 remarkable strangers may be. 



Coming in this way, we naturally want to show 

 them some hospitality, and Mrs. Mabel Osgood 

 Wright tells us that we can please them by offer- 

 ine: them cracked corn that has been soaked in 

 boiling water. 



They are gentle birds, whose knowledge of man 

 is so limited that they have no fear of him, and 

 will often let themselves be taken in the hand. 

 One such trustful bird that came to us in north- 

 ern New York was caged, but although he made 

 a gentle pet, I can never think of him without 

 regret for he had a wild woodland way of lifting 

 his wrings and uttering a low, plaintive, haunting 

 call that told of his yearning for his free life of 

 winter wandering, and his longing for a sight of 

 the great forests and snow-fields of his northern 

 home. 



Mr. Chamberlain has had the good fortune to 

 hear the Grosbeak's love-song near St. John in 

 June, and describes it as " an exquisitely sweet 

 and tender strain — sung in such soft tones it 

 must be intended for one ear alone, for it cannot 

 be heard a dozen yards away. The bird does not 

 sing thus because he lacks strength of voice, for 

 his winter song is loud and vigorous, . . . just 



