JOURNAL OF MAINE ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 15 



jested a seed. Soon the Sparrows and Juncos detected the suet on 

 the balm-of-Gilead tree. All day there was a constant stream of 

 visitors awaiting their turn at the suet lumps. Often a Sparrow or 

 J unco because so impatient that he administered a sharp peck at his 

 neighbor who reluctantly yielded up his place. One Crow appeared. 

 After eating the seeds for a time he observed the suet and flew to a 

 slender branch of the suet tree, where he slowly but firmly settled. 

 He was very awkward at keeping his balance and getting his long 

 beak so nearly under his feet as to snip off bits of suet, but he suc- 

 ceeded so well that the lumps of suet rapidly diminished in size. 

 The same day he returned with a friend, but I was such a conspicu- 

 ous object in the window that they contented themselves with rout- 

 ing the other birds and settling in the field opposite. A few days 

 later, before I arose, the morning after the fresh suet had been 

 placed on the tree, I heard a great cawing among the Crows around 

 the house. Upon looking out I found the suet had been pulled 

 from the tree and all of half of it carried away. I purposely tossed 

 it so high that it was out of reach of the cats. There was no wind. 

 I decided that the "robber Crows" were guilty of the theft. 



It is said that everything has its "supreme moment." Surely 

 this spring the rough, coarse, awkward old balm-of-Gilead had its 

 "supreme moment." One of these white days it was clothed with 

 Blackbirds. Truly it was a gorgeous sight ! The black coats 

 against the white snow looked like black velvet, and the bright 

 splashes of scarlet and orange on their shoulders made them most 

 conspicuous in the white and grey landscape. While the Blackbirds 

 were here they were most peaceable. The small birds, however, 

 usually beat a hasty retreat before them. They ate nothing but 

 seeds. 



The following brief pen-pictures are taken from my notebook : 

 April 9, 1907, 6.00 P. M. It is nearly 6.00 o'clock and the 

 Juncos, Fox vSparrows, Song Sparrows, and possibly other birds, are 

 feeding busily, while the rain and hail patter on them and the snow 

 is six inches deep. Often they stop feeding and crouch in the snow 

 to warm their feet in their feathers. These little birds teach one a 



