6 Massachusetts Audubon Society 



The last of March or the first of April, 1919, there was a snowfall 

 and after the snow had gone, it was cold for this time of year. That 

 evening five bluebirds went into a little bird-box, 6x8, which was at- 

 tached to the veranda post just inside of the eaves on the veranda at 

 the back of the house. On the second night eight birds went into the 

 box, and on the third night eleven birds came, and ten got into the 

 box while the eleventh flew away. On the fourth morning, the coldest 

 of all the four days, the birds did not come out, and Mr. Stoddard put 

 his hand into the box and the birds seemed so benumbed that they 

 scarcely stirred. Then he took the box down with the birds in it, and 

 took it into the kitchen, v/here he opened it. By this time the birds 

 had begun to revive a little. Two or three flew around the kitchen and 

 against the windows. They were all nervous and frightened. Mr. 

 Stoddard took a corn-popper and managed to get all the birds into it. 

 Then he took them in this way to the attic, where he let them out of 

 the cage. He fed them angle-worms and gave them water and milk. 

 He could not say whether they drank any of the milk or not, but they 

 drank the water and ate the angle-worms voraciously. Two birds 

 sometimes would pull at opposite ends of the same worm until occa- 

 sionally the worm would break, while others would swallow the worm 

 whole, like a robin. The following morning, one bird was dead and 

 two dying. As the day was warmer than the others had been, Mr. 

 Stoddard let the remaining seven birds out the window, and that night 

 five birds came back to the box, and went in. Later one pair nested 

 in this same box and raised three broods this summer. They began to 

 nest the last of April, and the last brood left the box, about August 22d. 



After Mr. Stoddard had taken the birds out of the box in the kitchen, 

 he replaced it on the post again the same day. That night, "the eleventh 

 bird, apparently the same one," came back and looked into the box, but 

 did not go in. The return of the eleventh bird caused Mr. Stoddard to 

 doubt the wisdom of taking the birds from the nest at all. He fancied 

 that, had he left them in the box, the ten birds would have revived 

 during the day, come out, and taken care of themselves equally as well 

 as the eleventh bird. (Mr. Stoddard's solicitude for the welfare of the 

 bevy of bluebirds and the chance he took in saving them by removing 

 them to the house was doubtless the proper procedure. Seven birds 

 were kept alive, and, had they been left, they might have all died. His 

 course, surely, until we know more about the resistance of the bluebird, 

 was proper.) 



Mr. Stoddard related another interesting occurrence concerning 

 this family of bluebirds. A number of times he has witnessed the male 

 bluebird bring worms to the mother bird on the nest. Sometimes, how- 

 ever, he would find her so greedy for the meal that she would fly from 

 the nest to meet him on a tree nearby or the railing. But he asserts 

 that the male bird rarely gave her the worm until she had gone back to 

 her nest. Sometimes she wheedled him out of his discipline, but not 

 often. From Mr. Stoddard's descriptions, one would take it that the 

 male bluebird is a martinet. Mr. Stoddard had never noticed that the 

 male bird relieved the female on the nest, but always found that it was 

 the mother bird that flew from the nest when he passed by too near— not 

 like the apparent solicitude which is evidenced by the male warbling vireo. 



The bluebird is very tidy in the care of her nursery. Mr. Stoddard 

 observed (what is common knowledge concerning many birds) that the 



