Notes from Field and Study 



361 



She keeps this up until all the grass ends 

 are tucked in. This operation shapes the 

 nest and presses the grass into the soft 

 mud, which I was not fortunate enough to 

 see her do. At no time was she conscious 

 of being watched. 



I am writing these notes at my desk in 

 the library, about seventy feet away from 

 the nest, and can hear the patter of her 

 feet every time she kicks. 



Later! She worked an hour after I 

 discovered her, about noon, and then 

 began feeding. T did not have a chance to 

 observe her again. — Miss Harriet W. 

 Thomson, Women's Gymnasium, Uni- 

 versity of Oregon, Eugene, Oregon. 



A Robin Accident 



The story of the accident to the Chip- 

 ping Sparrow, told by Pendleton Marshall 

 in the July-August Bird-Lore, reminds 

 me of a similar accident to a Robin. 



On May 6, 1914, a girl came running to 

 me, saying that she wanted a ladder, as a 

 Robin was hung in one of their maples. 

 We took a long ladder and went to the 

 tree, where we found several women and 

 children watching the Robin as it fluttered 

 head downward, hung by a long string 

 that was twisted about the branch and the 

 bird's leg and wing. A boy speedily climbed 

 up and brought it down. We found the 

 leg broken off half way of its length, just 

 holding by the skin, which was stripped 

 from the bone. 



We thought it useless to try to mend the 

 leg, so we cut the string of skin. We put 

 the bird in a cage, but after resting some 

 hours, it fought desperately to get out, 

 and it would not eat, so we released it. It 

 flew strongly across the yard to the fence. 

 For some time the Robin was seen to have 

 difficulty in perching, especially if there 

 was a wind; but it learned to balance, and 

 was able to find food. It seemed not long 

 before it wholly recovered from the shock, 

 and was as well as any bird. The neighbor- 

 children saw it in different places, and it 

 was often in our yard, hopping about on 

 its one foot, or using the bath. Sometimes 

 it scratched its head with the stump of 



the leg, but seemed not to use it other- 

 wise. 



I do not recall seeing this bird since 

 July 30, when it was bathing in our bird- 

 bath, with an English Sparrow. We think, 

 but are not sure, that it had a nest of 

 young in July. — Eliza F. Miller, Bethel, 

 Vermont. 



Notes from Seattle, Washington 



In the May-June number of Bird- 

 Lore, in "Notes from Field and Study," 

 I was greatly interested in the "Curious 

 Actions of a Robin." Our country home 

 is on Lake Washington, and last year we 

 had a Robin experience identical with that 

 related by Mr. Wood. We had re-papered 

 the house, painted and cleaned windows, 

 after the months spent in the city. It was 

 in April that the Robin, for four or five 

 days, seemed bent on self-destruction at 

 a corner bay window on a covered porch. 

 We tried leaving windows and doors open, 

 but to no effect. The only solution to this 

 puzzling problem was the fact that the 

 wall-paper was of a robin's-egg blue! I 

 decided it must be a case of color attrac- 

 tion, but a few days later my decision was 

 weakened by a neighbor having a like 

 experience, who was finally obliged to 

 barricade the windows. It would be inter- 

 esting to know the meaning of such queer 

 actions. 



I should also like to say, in reference to 

 the picture of a "Summer Visitor," in 

 May-June Bird-Lore, that for four years 

 we had an Oregon Towhee as one of our 

 family, each year bringing his brood to 

 be fed, but never allowing his families to 

 take the privileges of house and porch, 

 that he seemed to feel belonged to himself 

 alone. He knew my call, as I knew his, 

 and would come to me in the house or in 

 the woods, regardless of how many people 

 were about us, feeding from my hand, or 

 perching on my shoulder, and taking 

 bread from my teeth. 



Last year he seemed to have an infection 

 of the eye, and this year did not come 

 to us. — Kathrine M. Manny, Seattle, 

 Wash. 



