Monthly Bulletin 7 



not the most complimentary of birds could call a convenient ledge; the 

 door was rounded at the top and adorned only by a rounded strip following 

 the curve of the door. This strip was painted and varnished, and looked 

 as smooth as glass. The nestlings — there were three of them — grew larger 

 and larger and stronger and stronger; sometimes they stood up on the 

 edge of the nest; sometimes a very bold one ventured to stand on the 

 insecure footing just outside the nest. I wondered much how they would 

 make their descent, for there were no ornamentations or projections to offer 

 steps to help them to reach the piazza, and the distance was at least ten feet. 



One day when one of them was standing just outside the nest, either 

 he lost his footing in trying to return or one of his brothers, thinking his 

 room was better than his company, gave him a push, and he fell, but, flutter- 

 ing, caught his little claws in the wire of the screen door and clung there, 

 terrified for several minutes; then, making an attempt either to jump or to 

 fly, neither he nor I knew which, he fell, as if dead, on the second step of the 

 piazza. He lay perfectly motionless, and I, not understanding his language, 

 and being, therefore, unable to make him aware of my kind feelings toward 

 him, could only look on and wait. 



After a few minutes he stretched out a leg and a wing. Then a parent 

 brought him some delicious morsel, which he devoured; after that he lay 

 still for a few minutes more, and then suddenly took a good strong flight 

 into a tall evergreen tree that stood near the piazza. I don't know what 

 happened next; my imagination suggests that the father covered him in 

 the tree, while the mother came back to the nest to keep the other two 

 warm during the night. 



During the greater part of the next day the mother sat or stood on the 

 top step of the piazza, calling to her children to come down; sometimes 

 she flew to the nest and away again, as if to show them how to get away, 

 but though they seemed lively, they made no eff'ort to leave home. 



The following morning the same process was repeated, but apparently 

 without effect. In the afternoon there was a fierce thunderstorm with pour- 

 ing rain, and I thought there would be no leaving the nest that day; but 

 suddenly, in the midst of rain, wind, thunder and lightning, one of the 

 birds flew, not just dropping down to the piazza, but with a strong, beautiful 

 flight, far into the high branches of the tall evergreen. 



About half an hour later the last bird followed his example, with the 

 same strong, beautiful flight, in spite of wind and rain. 



I like to believe that there was then a happy reunion of father, mother, 

 and three children in the big evergreen tree. 



BIRD STUDY IN THE CITY. 



By WiNTHROP Packard. 



[From the Headquarter's Bulletin of the Boy Scouts of America.] 



Sometimes, even in winter, in the city, I get a glimpse of big, wild 



birds and the sight of them lifts my thoughts from brick and stone to the 



blue skies, the blue sea and the open spaces where freedom waits, for these 



big birds I see are the sea gulls. High over the city roof tops, even above 



the steeples of the churches, they sail on strong wings, going for a drink of 



fresh water in the Charles River where they rest and gossip with their 



fellows. I watch them from the Esplanade as they swim in the Basin or 



sit seemingly warm and content on the ice margin and I see with them the 



mergansers. 



