8 Massachusetts Audubon Society 



BIRDS AND SQUIRRELS 



"While one often sees gray squirrels about Waltham, Melrose can go 

 further. A prominent citizen of Melrose, Franklin P. Shumway, has fed 

 and partially tamed a whole colony of squirrels, and they have for a long 

 time lived in two immense trees on his premises. For the whole of Christmas 

 week those trees were illuminated by hundreds of vari-colored electric lights 

 which did not in the least disturb the furry tenants and made a beautiful 

 spectacle." — Waltham Free Press. 



The two blue spruce trees alluded to in the notice are about forty feet 

 high, and when decorated with the red, white and blue electric lights and 

 covered by snow did make a very beautiful appearance. 



An amusing incident occurred late one Sunday afternoon. One of a 

 quartette of blue jays which I regularly feed happened to be on one of 

 these trees when my man turned the lights on, and it frightened the blue 

 jay so that he jumped so quickly that he did not spread his wings and went 

 over and over on to the ground, where he gave a couple of hops and flew 

 away, screeching at the top of his voice. 



About two weeks later I saw all four of the blue jays perched con- 

 tentedly on a limb of one of the lighted trees, apparently not the least afraid 

 of the lights which indicates, what I have often noticed, that so-called "wild" 

 birds will speedily become accustomed to even unusual surroundings. 



Franklin P. Shumway. 



BIRDS AT MORSES'S POND GROVE, WELLESLEY, FEBRUARY, 1921 



When last Ave visited our woodland camp the trees were silent and the 

 way was damp; at night there was no moon but stars appeared, the house 

 was cold but we are ever cheered by thoughts of morning which will surely 

 bring the birds to chirp and call, if not to sing by the south window and at 

 the west side, where seed boxes are placed and suet tied. 



The first to come next morning was the cheerful jay, who took posses- 

 sion in his saucy way, of the gray feeder by the window placed. To this I 

 objected and he was chased. He then flew over to the tall pine tree where 

 the white suet dangles swinging free. Upon a branch he clung and reached 

 far out and gave the thing a poke. It swung about till he could reach it as it 

 neared his bill; so he sat there yelling as he ate his fill. 



But list, was that a chickadee I heard? It never could be any other 

 bird than tiny black-cap of the friendly ways, calling in winter as in summer 

 days, "A deedeedee! Sisses ee, sisses ay, sisses erF' standing in snow with- 

 out the least demur, or clinging to the food hung in the tree. 



The Downies then arrive. Both he and she are very much alive and 

 busy eating suet from the tree where it is nailed, for they appear to be afraid 

 to dangle in the air and cling as Dee-Dee, to the suet on the string. 



Then nuthatches, they of the snowy breast, come to the feeder, which 

 might be a nest, for in she goes and turns around to peek — then out she 

 comes with seeds held in her beak. 



What is that bird with back of white and brown, which hunches up the 

 trees but seldom faces down? That's the brown creeper; it's his way you 

 know; another one is hopping on the snow. 



Hairy is calling like a woodland elf — he soon appears as Downy's 

 larger self. The jays have heard his challenge and rush near; they are not 

 very friendly, that is clear. 



These are the birds we have with us this year, but juncoes are not very 

 far from here; and tree sparrows and kinglets yellow-crowned, in spruce 

 trees and the pine woods may be found. Jean E. Garth. 



