The Audubon Societies 67 



A Story About a Bluebird 



The Bluebirds like a warmer climate, therefore there are not many Blue- 

 birds here in cold weather. They lay four eggs in a nest. It takes twenty-five 

 days for their eggs to hatch, and their eggs are also blue. They lay their 

 eggs in May and June. They build their nest of grass and hair. 



The Bluebird sings sweet songs, which are pleasing to the eye and charming 

 to the ear. The Bluebird eats grasshoppers and crickets and green grass and 

 corn and wheat. The Bluebirds are careful not to betray the location of their 

 home and do not sing near their nest. A female is different than a male. The 

 male Bluebird's feathers are dark. The female's feathers are light blue, and 

 a female does not go very far from her nest. 



A Bluebird does not like anybody to bother its nest. You can tame Blue- 

 birds to be pets. A Bluebird has a short bill and a fuzzy tail, and takes a trip 

 down south in the winter time. A Bluebird will not fight over her young ones. 



The male Bluebird does not rely only on the charms of his plumage to win 

 him a mate but woos her also with voice. Bluebirds are most desirable 

 citizens from every point of view, and are as useful as they are beautiful. — 

 Ross E. Gideon, Tonganoxie, Kans. 



[This little story has much information in it about one of our most attractive song- 

 sters. Now that the writer of it has learned so many facts about the Bluebird from 

 books, it will give him added pleasure to study this species out-of-doors, and see for him- 

 self Just what kinds of food it prefers, where its nest is located, when the young are 

 hatched, whether its tail is really fuzzy or not, and many other details. Perhaps he can 

 tell us later on whether the Bluebird is decreasing in numbers in Kansas. — ^A. H. W.) 



The Bluebird 



By GARRETT NEWKIRK 



Fond lover of home; Clay-colored his breast, 



Tho' far he may roam And white to the nest. 



Over the wide, green earth, Cerulean blue to the sky; 



For mating and loving and singing he He seems to be telling of peace upon 



comes earth, 



Back to the land of his birth. And glory of heaven on high. 



First color he brings, And when in the fall 



The first note sings. The last low call 



When skies are gloomy and gray; Of Bluebird comes to the ear. 



The hour of his choice and sound of A feeling of sorrow we have for the 



his voice, morrow, — 



Make a memorial day. To know he is gone for the year. 



