BIRD BATHS AND 
and a piece of banana perhaps, as addi- 
attractions for the feathered 
guests. The smallest visitors are the 
chipping sparrows, gentle, modest little 
fellows, that come to the food tray 
quietly as mice, crack a few seeds, and 
then take a bath on the top step where 
the water is shallow. Almost burly in 
comparison, are the purple finches, 
which come, often two or three at a time, 
make a full meal in the food tray, and 
then souse themselves thoroughly in the 
deeper water, regardless of theories 
concerning the dangers of bathing too 
soon after dinner. 
Perhaps the most amusing visitor is a 
eatbird, which has a nest in the lilac 
bush, from whose top, in the early morn- 
ing, he sings his wonderful song so sur- 
prising to those who know him by his 
cat-call only. He comes boldly to the 
food tray, hops lightly about, jauntily 
flirting his long tail, swallows a ripe rasp- 
berry, takes a bite or two of banana, and 
then proceeds to inspect the bath as if 
he had never seen it before. He cocks 
his head first on one side and then on the 
other, hops into the shallow water and 
begins to peck at the shells and pebbles 
at the bottom. Perhaps he will take 
one in his bill and hold it for a moment 
before dropping it back. Then he goes 
out into deeper water, and with wings 
vibrating as though operated by an elec- 
tric current, takes a thorough bath “all 
over.’ When he comes out, he is a 
sorry-looking object, dripping wet and 
with tail-feathers stuck together. But 
apparently he cares nothing for appear- 
ances, and proceeds with his toilet forth- 
with. He shakes himself vigorously, 
flips his tail from side to side to get rid 
of the bulk of the water, and then it is 
surprising how soon, with the aid of his 
deft bill and a warm sun, he makes 
himself into a clean fluffy catbird again. 
Sometimes, toward evening a_blue- 
tional 
DRINKING POCLS 179 
bird visits the bath, and after washing 
himself in a very business-like way, flies 
off to a dead tree to preen and dry his 
feathers. Occasionally a phoebe comes, 
but apparently takes a bath more from 
a sense of duty than from any love of 
bathing. He seems to dislike cold water 
about as much as does the average small 
boy, for instead of getting right into it 
as most birds do, he flits through it, 
barely getting his feet wet. Perhaps 
this habit has been acquired by re- 
peatedly darting after insects, and pos- 
sibly is common to all flycatchers; at 
any rate I have seen a kingbird bathe by 
dashing through the water of a stream 
time and again, returning after each dip 
to a snag, from which he made a fresh 
dive after stopping a moment to preen 
his feathers—and perhaps to catch his 
breath. 
The song sparrows are perhaps the 
most numerous visitors to this bird 
bath; they come earlier and stay later 
than any of the other birds. They act 
as if they owned this particular sheet of 
water, three feet by two, and if any other 
bird ventures too near while a song spar- 
row is bathing, the former is promptly 
driven away. These sparrows seem to 
love the water, and not only splash in it, 
but squat right down in it until practi- 
eally nothing but their heads are stick- 
ing out. Sometimes when it is almost 
dark, and the last red tinge of afterglow 
is reflected in the tiny pool, a couple of 
dark spots on the shining surface tell 
just where two little song sparrows are 
cooling off for the night. 
We have been altogether too busy to 
keep close watch on this bath but at 
different times we have observed the 
following birds using it: flicker, phoebe, 
Baltimore oriole, purple finch, white- 
winged crossbill, American goldfinch, 
vesper sparrow, white-throated spar- 
row, chipping sparrow, junco, song 
