DELAWARE VALLEY ORNITHOLOGICAL CLUB. 11 



pole was tin-banded for three feet up from a point about seven 

 feet above the ground, presenting an unshinnable space above 

 puss's jumping distance from the ground. Pointville, however, 

 can boast a more palatial Martin box than any at Brown's Mills. 

 So large is the barrel from which it is made that I first thought 

 it a dove-cote, for pigeons, too, are plenty about many of the 

 little barns. This barrel presents a circular shingle roof nar- 

 rowing up to a spire and three tiers of holes. It could accom- 

 modate a large colony of Martins, but now I am told it is no 

 longer visited. I was disappointed at seeing no Martins during 

 my staj', for even in our colder hill country in Pennsylvania I had 

 known them to come to their old homes before the end of 

 March. As it happened, I saw no birds of any kind about an)' 

 bird boxes, save a Bluebird sitting in the portico of a diminu- 

 tive two-holed structure mounted upon a very climbable pronged 

 cedar pole. This box was before a saw-mill several hundred 

 yards from any habitation. Any raccoon or possum or wildcat 

 from the near-by wood could have clambered up to it with ease. 

 As I watched, the bird's mate came to the box with straw. 

 That was the only nest-building of any kind that I happened 

 upon during our week. 



It was indeed a most remarkable week. The Wednesday we 

 arrived, March 27th, was seasonable. Thursday it grew 

 warmer, and on Friday with a thermometer reaching 87 we lay 

 around out of doors as if it had been mid -summer. Saturday 

 was a tolerable day, somewhat cooler, although it greyed up 

 in the afternoon. Sunday was gloomy and foreboding, and 

 Monday morning we awoke to a driving snowstorm. Tuesday 

 was warmer, with snow disappearing, and Wednesday as fine an 

 April day of rare air and blue skies and heartening sun as one 

 could wish. The great heat of Friday was followed by a great 

 increase of birds on Saturday. They held over on Sunday and 

 all but the swallows, which we first saw Sunday, through the 

 snow of Monday. The evening we arrived the only sign of bird 

 life was a Robin on the lawn. The next morning I heard but 

 one Robin song. In Germantown the morning before I had 

 heard a dozen, and in Princeton, a few days earlier (March 22d), 

 more than a score. There were many Robins about during the 



