232 Bird -Lore 



find a nest near the end of a swaying bough or saddled among the twigs of 

 a lower branch of a shade tree by the street. Often, the birds choose cedar 

 bushes or other thick shrubs, and in such cases the nest may be only three or 

 four feet from the ground. 



I recall one pair that built their home in a clematis vine, which grew 

 on the veranda-trellis. Here, day by day, we used to watch the parent-birds 



bring food to their little ones, and it is astonishing how much 

 CI m t's V l3-t>or it requires to keep four baby Chipping Sparrows supplied 



with all the food they will eat. Every two or three minutes 

 one of the parents would flit into the clematis vine with food for the young. 

 So far as we could tell, it appeared that the male attended to the duties of 

 caring for the young fully as much as did his mate. This, truly, is the 

 correct way to do; but not all father-birds follow this custom. 



One of the little Chipping Sparrows seemed to be stronger than the others, 

 and usually raised his head a little higher than his brothers and sisters, and 

 opened his mouth a little wider in an attempt to get all the good things which 

 his parents brought to eat. I fear much of the time he received more than 

 his share. When a little later, however, the young had left the nest, and were 

 learning to fly, this selfish youngster received no more than the others — in 

 fact, on more than one occasion we saw the mother pass him by to give 

 food to a brother or sister that sat farther along on the same limb. 



It would be pleasant to say that all four of these young Chipping Sparrows 

 grew up and lived happy ever after, but this, alas, would not be telling the 



truth. Our neighbor had a cat, and the cat knew of the nest 

 , Q H . in the clematis vine, and no doubt would have torn it down some 



dark night had we not arranged some boards and a piece of tin 

 in such a way that it could not climb up the vine. But as soon as the young 

 scattered about the lawn, and before they were able to fly more than a few 

 yards at a time, the cat was ready for them, and before noon of the day they 

 left the nest one of the baby birds had disappeared. It was just after luncheon 

 when I heard the angry chipping of our friends, the Sparrows, and, dashing 

 out on the veranda, I saw the cat marching away with a bird child in its 

 mouth. That cat was well fed and well cared for, and had all the good food 

 that any reasonable cat could mew for, yet its love for hunting was so strong, 

 that, like almost every other cat that you or I have ever seen, it would 

 catch birds if it had the chance. 



Some of us like cats, but we love birds. Do you wonder that I had dark 

 thoughts when I saw the cat stealing away with one of the innocent little 

 baby birds? For a little while I think I wished that I were a lion so that I 

 could show the cat how it is to be grabbed up in a big mouth and carried off. 

 The next day only one of the youthful Chipping Sparrows was to be found, 

 and T am not quite sure that it ever grew up to fly away to the South when 

 cold weather came. 



