A MEMO AN ORNITHOLOGY 59 



When spring came the Chickadees went to the woods to nest. I saw no 

 more of them until the 2nd of this month (December), when four came to 

 the little tree and made their wants known. I have a supply of butternuts 

 ready and feed them every day. I think two of them are Punch and Judy 

 because they were just as tame as when they left me in the spring, while the 

 other two are a little timid yet. 



I tied a half of a yeast cake box on the tree and filled it with sunflower 

 seeds. They eat them but prefer butternut meats. People driving by will 

 see the Chickadee on my hand and exclaim: "Oh ! see that bird on her hand." 

 I have had them sing while on my hand. Any one can have the same exper- 

 ience with these pleasant little creatures if they would only take interest 

 in them and help to bring them through the cold winter. I am glad to wel- 

 come my cheerful friends again and will try to act as a good hostess should 

 to them. 



WINTER BIRDS. 



Leslie L. Haskin. 



The winter birds — with a good cause — have become so shy of man that it 

 seems a wonderful thing when you find one which allows itself to be viewed 

 at close range, and still more so when it permits itself to be touched or 

 handled. There are, however, a few birds which seem to retain their primeval 

 fearlessness, though their manners in allowing man's approach are as differ- 

 ent as their several modes of life. A few entries from my last year's book 

 serve well to illustrate the characteristics of these birds. 



October 28: While watching a flock of Goldfinches feeding among the 

 weeds of an old corn field, a Northern Shrike pounced down and carried one 

 of them off. I followed him to a clump of alders, where he hung his victim 

 by the neck, in a crotch — and drove him away. After examining the body 

 I replaced it and stepped back about three feet, almost immediately the 

 Shrike returned and seized it, so close was I that every feather was distinct 

 and the wavy lines on its breast, which are lost at a short distance, showed 

 up beautifully. 



The Shrike seems to be one of the bravest of birds, for at such times he 

 appears to have a perfect knowledge of the danger he is in and a dogged de- 

 termination to carry out his purpose at all costs. 



November 26: Today I found another flock of Pine Grosbeaks in a stub- 

 ble field — about thirty — ranging in color from the betautiful olive tints of 

 the females, through the different shades of pink, up to the almost clear red 

 of the old males. I followed them for nearly an hour, during which time 

 they seemed entirely unafraid, allowing me to come within a few feet of 



