AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 67 



them out of the soul suffocating atmosphere of artificial recreation, and in- 

 spire them with a sense of freedom known only to those who live in commun- 

 ion with Mother Earth. 



Before the flowers are yet conspicuous, we are greeted with the fervent 

 songs of the Bluebirds, for he never fails to make known his presence. He 

 is one of the earliest guests in the spring, and when he arrives he perches up- 

 on some leafless tree or barn, and delivers his melodies with fervor. His 

 plumage with the bits of heavenly blue makes him interesting and attractive. 

 The male bird is endowed with a royal coat of blue, his breast of cinnamon- 

 brown and white marks him a conspicuous bird, and his mate who is a 

 modest-looking little quaker in her sober colors, but in her flight is seen the 

 flashing blue in her spreading wings. 



On their arrival they niay be seen diligently hunting among the apple 

 trees and inspecting the holes. A pair of undemonstrative Bluebirds discov- 

 ered a desirable cavity in an old apple tree in the orchard, and they began 

 the task of home-making. So happy were the lovers, that they sang in 

 •ecstacy, and constantly flitted about for materials to build the nest. As ar- 

 chitects, they are without artistic taste, but are very practical in making their 

 home compact and comfortable with bits of dried straw and grass. The 

 house- wife sat brooding over her nestful of pale greenish-blue eggs, her 

 mate fed her, giving vent to his happiness by his sweetest songs. There is no 

 resemblance of the little ones to their parents, for they are almost black, 

 but before their flight they are donned with the bits of blue. 



The parent birds so jealously guarded the little family, that they looked 

 upon me as an intruder whenever I made the attempt to see the little ones. 

 One day thinking the parent birds were on their hunt for insects for the fam- 

 ily, I climbed the step-ladder to look into the house-hold, when suddenly the 

 mother bird flew into my face and demonstrated her wrathfulness in loud 

 tones. Their domestic life was short, for there came a real tragedy in their 

 lives. When the little birds were only four days old, a cat thief discovered 

 the nest and stole the wee ones, leaving a desolate home. It was a sad day 

 for me, as well as the birds, but I turned to the Robins for comfort, and found 

 recompense, for in their excess of happiness, I saw much of importance. 



Very few are aware that there is novelty and enthusiasm in making the 

 acquaintance with the Robin. He enjoys but little celebrity, though he is 

 universally admired, but many have not given him justice. As a songster, the 

 Robin is assigned to a high rank. His lively notes are heard at the earliest 

 flush of dawn, in the busy hour of noon, and in the stillness of the evening. 

 As a musician, his delightful anthem is never tiresome. Mr. Parkhurst in 

 his "Bird Calendar," says he knows of "no bird that is able to give so mam- 

 shades of meaning to a single note, running through the entire gamut of its 



