Notes from Field and Study 



211 



ney of Mr. Rice's house for a roosting- 

 place. 



For some unknown reason they flew not 

 only into the chimney but down to the fire- 

 places connected with it, with disastrous 

 results to themselves and Mr. Rice's home. 

 —Ed. 



Mr. Burroughs writes: "I have been 

 able to verify the story about the 'Swallows' 

 or Swifts. The report of the number killed 

 was greatly exaggerated, otherwise it was 

 true enough. I saw Mr. Rice and he took 

 me in and told me the whole story. They 

 did not kill any of the Swifts at all, but 

 many died in the soot in the chimney, ten 

 water-pails full, he said, down in the bottom 

 of the chimney, smothered in the soot, and in 

 their efforts to drive them out of the chimney 

 about a thousand perished. Mr. Rice said: 



"Saturday night a big flock of the Swallows 

 were seen about my chimney, and I was sent 

 for to come home, and when I opened the 

 living-room door the rush of birds knocked 

 off my glasses. I got to the window, covering 

 my face with my arms, and got the window 

 open. About 1,500 went out. Then we 

 switched off the light, and when we turned it 

 on again there were Swallows on all the 

 mouldings and pictures, and these we picked 

 off and threw out of the window, when they 

 flew away. Later we found them behind all 

 pictures and furniture. These we put out. 

 They had brought the soot out of the chimney 

 until it had to be shoveled up, and their 

 wings marked up the ceilings, while their 

 droppings marred the walls and furniture. 

 On Monday they were still in the chimney 

 and when I made a paper fire in the grate 

 they drove the smoke down with their wings. 

 I went to the furnace in the cellar and there 

 were about fifty live ones and fifty dead in 

 the furnace — also ten water-pails full of dead 

 ones in the pipes and bottom of chimney." 



Magpie in Iowa 



. In November, 1921, I wrote you about the 

 Magpie in Iowa. In accordance with your 

 desire, I write now to tell you that the Mag- 

 pies stayed here all winter, going in flocks. 

 They were very shy, it being almost im- 

 possible to get near them. 



This spring the flocks seemed to disband 

 and only a pair would be seen at once. For 

 the past two weeks none have been seen or 

 heard and I do not believe there are any here 

 now. — Laura Brady, Sutherland, Ioua 

 May 19, 1922. 



The Story of a Young Blue Jay 



Several years ago I had a young Blue Jay. 

 Christie, for so I named him, was found early 

 one morning in June on a farm in the Susque- 

 hanna valley. He was immature; tail still 

 short, and plumage not perfect yet. One 

 wing was injured, so he could not fly. My 

 boy took food in his fingers and moved it to 

 and fro before the bird's mouth, when, presto! 

 the bill flew open as if by magic, and the food 

 was put in. We put vaseline on the torn wing 

 and it soon healed. At first he was kept in a 

 crate with food and water by him, and he 

 soon learned to eat and drink. He liked bread 

 and milk, meat cut up fine, and red rasp- 

 berries. As the wing healed and he could take 

 little flights, he was given his liberty in the 

 big dining-room, having one corner as his 

 own particular place. Part of the family 

 grew very fond of him, and others did not 

 like him. He knew his friends at the long 

 table and would fly on one's shoulder or 

 even on the head of the man who saved 

 him. The two who did not like him he 

 never went near. 



I have fed Blue Jays for many winters but 

 never dreamed what affectionate birds they 

 were until I had Christie. I knew three or 

 four separate calls very distinct from the 

 others they have, but Christie taught me 

 another, or rather a low, sweet song. He 

 would fly on top of the inside doors and sing 

 so softly and sweetly when the house was 

 quiet and only one or two present. The outer 

 doors were screened so he could not escape. 



He delighted in baths and had his bath-tub 

 by his food. One day some water was spilled 

 on the painted floor, and down he flew for a 

 bath; and once he flew into a big pail of water. 

 Such a frolic, and how the water flew! 



I once saved a young Robin and cared for 

 him, and he showed his appreciation by 

 opening his gold-lined mouth and biting me 

 wickedly. But Christie showed only love and 



