The Audubon Societies 125 



mentioned before, that had evidently escaped the birds. Exactly two months 

 after the first egg was laid, the second nest of the same pair was nearing com- 

 pletion in another of my boxes. Here are the dates. 



May 29. First egg laid. June i. Fourth egg laid. 



May 30. Second egg laid. June i6. Young hatched. 



May 31. Third egg laid. June 23. Young have not flown yet. 



While the female was incubating, the male still fed the young of the first 

 brood, although not so often as when they left the nest. — Wolfrid Rudyerd 

 BouLTON, Jr. (Age 14 years), Beaver, Pa. 



[Perhaps no better word of appreciation of this carefully worded description of 

 personal observations could be given than to quote from a letter written by Mr. Herbert 

 K. Job with reference to the data given by Master Boulton, Jr.: "His accurate informa- 

 tion about the periods of incubation and rearing of the Bluebird came in handy to me 

 just now, as there is a pair in a box up-state which I want to 'film' at just the right period, 

 and now I can estimate when to make the trip." The pictures illustrating this article 

 were not only taken, but also developed and finished b\- the observer. — A. H. W.] 



A MUSICAL WOODLAND 



Riding on my pony in a thick-set wood, I heard the "Feathered Musi- 

 cians" playing on their instruments. 



First the trill of the Wood Thrush, then the sweet trill of the Meadowlark, 

 the rapidly repeated 'wickci' of the Flicker, the sweet melody of the Robin, 

 the charming song of the Song Sparrow, and the 'chip' of the Chipping Spar- 

 row, were most delightful. 



Far off in the distance I could hear the sweet Canary-like whistle of the 

 Goldfinch and the 'eak' of the Purple Crackle. 



The woods rang with the music of the birds, for nothing is so sweet as 

 natural music. — Sarah W. Weaver (Age 11 years), Baltimore County, Md, 



["For nothing is so sweet as natural music." 



This naive observation brings to mind the gurgle of brooks, waving treetops, and 

 hum of busy insects, as well as the music of feathered songsters. It has the essence of 

 spring in it, when awakening life so quickly voices itself in melody. — A. H. W.] 



INTERESTING PERFORMANCE OF A TUFTED TITMOUSE 



While taking refuge from a slight April shower on the porch of an unoccu- 

 pied summer cottage at Lithia Springs, Ga., twenty miles from Atlanta, I 

 once witnessed an interesting performance by a Tufted Titmouse. Having 

 chosen a damp brown oak leaf from the ground, it flew with it into a bare tree, 

 and, holding the leaf with its claw firmly against a branch, it drew itself to its 

 full height, raised its head like a Woodpecker, and with all the might of its 

 tiny frame gave a forcible blow to the leaf with its bill. This process was kept 

 up nearly half an hour. The bird seemed utterly indifferent to the near pres- 



