I30 Bird- Lore 



and (I must say it) general stupidity; yet I have tried many times to record all 

 the Robins' nests in the garden, only to find, after leaf-fall, that I have missed 

 a dozen or more. 



The Ruby-throated Hummingbird, though by no means so silent in his 

 comings and goings as many a larger bird, yet is so fleet of wing and so erratic 

 in flight that, though in one year there were four nests within garden limits, 

 two remained undiscovered until after leaf-fall, though one was on the branch 

 of an apple tree under which we sat continually from middle May. Neither 

 can one be sure that Jennie Wren, who has preempted a particular house, 

 time out of mind, may not suddenly desire a change, even if for the worse, 

 like some of her human prototypes, and betake herself to a tin can half full 

 of rusty nails on the ledge of an outbuilding. In fact, a Wren once abandoned 

 her tree-box for an old-fashioned glue-pot that hung in the tool-house. Want- 

 ing the glue in a hurry, the pot was taken down and was half-way to the 

 kitchen fire before it was discovered that a superstructure and six speckled eggs 

 covered the hardened glue. To the tune of a rousing scolding, the pot was 

 replaced, and the broken chair was given a rest for several weeks until 

 Madam Wren released the glue-pot. 



Another very sudden seizure of a home-site was made by a pair of Wrens, 

 between 9 a. m., and 5 p. m. A housemaid's pail of zinc with an incurved 

 rim was hung to air, bottom upwards, on a stake behind a trellis covered 

 with honeysuckle. Something about its appearance fired the constructive 

 ambition of the Wrens, and they set to work with the brittle twigs gleaned 

 under the spruces, to make a chimney-like structure between the side of the 

 pail and the stake, broad at the bottom and tapering toward the top, where 

 there was a hollow left for the eggs, which was partly roofed, Ovenbird fashion. 

 So rapidly did they work that by the next morning the nest was complete. 

 Destroy so much skill for the mere use of a pail ? Of course not! We bought 

 another, and proceeded to keep watch on the Wrens; by so doing, however, 

 we assumed a partial responsibility for their poor judgment. A heavy rain 

 softened the ground, and the stake, with its strange cap, listed to one side. 

 Straightway they built an annex to the left. Then the wind caused an opposite 

 tilt; another annex, in which we assisted with a bunch of excelsior. Every one 

 who called asked to see the curious nest. The Wrens scolded, but did not 

 leave, until, before the end, two other stakes and a rope had been called into 

 play to hold the pail in place, and we gave a sigh of relief when the couple 

 transferred themselves to an orthodox Wren-box for their second brood. 



Below the garden once stood a glorious old orchard. One by one, the trees 

 fell to the ground on bent knees, after the way of apple trees, and with them 

 disappeared the homes of a host of Flickers and Bluebirds. After putting up 

 a number of houses made from old shingles after the old fence-post type, we 

 watched the results most anxiously. The last of March brought back a num- 

 ber of Bluebirds, who spent the days in the few mossy trees that were left, 



