8 Monthly Bulletin 



WINTER BIRDS IN METHUEN 



This winter, as far as the writer is concerned, the usual winter birds 

 have been "conspicuous by their absence." No flocks or tree sparrows or 

 snow buntings have gladdened her eyes as she has taken her solitary walks, 

 but only a stray golden-crowned kinglet or a flock of chickadees have given 

 evidence of their presence by their cheerful twittering. 



Other observers, more fortunate, have seen flocks of kinglets in the 

 center of the village, where they congregated in a little pine wood near the 

 soldiers' monument. During the bitter cold of a few weeks ago they ven- 

 tured near the house doors in the neighborhood, and one, stiff with cold, 

 was taken in, but died soon after. 



Pine grosbeaks have been seen by several in town, and the evening 

 grosbeaks have returned to their former feeding-grounds, the box-elders at 

 Tozier's corner. These large, showy birds, with their brilliant black and 

 yellow plumage, come in flocks of twenty or more, to eat the seeds of their 

 favorite tree till none are left, and then move on to new feeding-places. 

 They usually shake the pods till the seeds fall out, and then gather on the 

 snow under the trees and eat like a flock of chickens, making a pretty pic- 

 ture against the white background. 



Thomas Smith, of the Lawrence Natural History Society, a careful 

 bird-observer, reports seeing within the last two weeks five meadowlarks, 

 four of them on the wing at the time, also from thirty to fifty snow buntings 

 about three weeks ago. 



Starlings have wintered in this vicinity, and can often be seen on some 

 high perch, such as a weather-vane whirling around in the wind, uttering 

 their shrill whistles. Starlings imitate other birds' notes. The writer was 

 surprised to hear the other day what sounded exactly like the wood pewee's 

 prolonged note, till, following the direction of the sound, she saw three 

 starlings perched on a weather-vane, and guessed that a starling was giving 

 an imitation of the wood pewee. The wood pewee's song is usually asso- 

 ciated with the long, hot afternoons of summer, and hearing it on a cold 

 day in winter with snow all around, gave one a decided sense of inap- 

 propriateness. 



Another bird story and I am done. Late last fall a white-throated 

 sparrow was seen scratching among the dead leaves near our back door, 

 and, on being followed, he disappeared through the lattice under the back 

 steps. At long intervals this same bird was seen in the shrubbery or on the 

 ground near the house. Bread-crumbs and bird-seed were thrown out for 

 him, and now he is seen every day picking up the food. When approached 

 too closely, he seeks refuge behind the lattice under the steps, where he is 

 sheltered from snow and sleet. 



How he ever escapes the prowling cats, and how he managed to live 

 through all the cold of the winter when we were not feeding him, is a 

 mystery. I think it most unusual for a white-throated sparrow to winter 

 in this climate. He may have been disabled in some way, or have been too 

 weak to keep up with the rest of the family when they started South last 

 fall. He appears all right now, and is quite domesticated. The black and 

 white stripes on his head and the white on his throat are very distinct. 

 I wonder if he will be able to find his "own folks" again when they come 

 North in the spring migration? 



E. Schneider. 



