weevils near trees and shrubbery. Wrens hunt them out when concealed under 

 bark or rubbish. Blackbirds catch them on the ground, as do the killdeer, titlark, 

 meadow lark and others, while orioles hunt for them on the bolls. But it is the 

 peculiar function of swallows to catch the weevils as they are making long 

 flights, leaving the cotton fields in search of hiding places in which to winter or 

 entering them to continue their work of devastation. 



Martins are not at all fastidious about the outward appearance of their 

 dwelHngs and a large gourd suspended from the top of a dead tree or a pole, 

 or any kind of weather-tight box or barrel, however rude, when divided into 

 compartments answers their needs as well as the most costly and ornamental 

 house. The rooms should be about 4^ inches wide, 7 inches high and 8 inches 

 deep, with entrance about 3 inches in diameter. They will not build close to 

 the ground, having a wholesome fear of cats and other invaders. Hence the 

 houses should be elevated from the ground not less than 15 feet. Drinking 

 water is essential for martins and all other swallows and the presence of a small 

 pond, lake or river greatly increases the chances for colonization. 



Early Spring 



By Henry D. Thoreau 



How much more habitable a few birds make the fields ! At the end of 

 the winter, when the fields are bare and there is nothing to relieve the monotony 

 of withered vegetation, our life seems reduced to its lowest terms. But let a 

 bluebird come and warble over them, and what a change! The note of the first 

 bluebird in the air answers to the purling rill of melted snow beneath. It is 

 evidently soft and soothing and, as surely as the thermometer, indicates a higher 

 temperature. It is the accent of the south wind, its vernacular. It is modulated 

 by the south wind. 



The song sparrow is more sprightly, mingling its notes with the rustling 

 of the brush along the water sides, but it is at the same time more terrene than 

 the bluebird. The first woodpecker (flicker) comes screaming into the empty 

 house and throws open doors and windows wide, calling out each of them to let 

 the neighbors know of its return. . . . When the blackbird gets to a conqueree 

 he seems to be dreaming of the sprays that are to be and on which he will perch. 

 The robin does not come singing, but utters a somewhat anxious or inquisitive 

 peep at first. The song sparrow is immediately most at home of those I have 

 named. 



Each new year is a surprise to us. W^e find that we had virtually forgotten 

 the note of each bird, and when we hear it again it is remembered like a dream, 

 reminding us of a previous state of existence. How happens it that the asso- 

 ciations it awakens are always pleasing, never saddening, reminiscences of our 

 sanest hours? The voice of nature is always encouraging. 



275 



