52 LAND-BIRDS AND GAME-BIRDS 
of which are injurious. As they often rear two or even three 
broods of young during their annual sojourn in Massachusetts, 
they necessarily destroy an incalculable number of pests (at 
the rate of between fifty and a hundred thousand to a pair in 
four months). So soon as the young of the first brood are old 
enough to leave the nest, the female soon begins again to lay, 
while the male takes charge of the young, teaching them how 
to catch their prey. He may often be seen to perch in some 
open spot, and, flying into the air (much in the manner of fly- 
catehers), to seize some passing insect, or, pausing with 
rapidly quivering wings, to .snap up some grasshopper or 
beetle from the grass, immediately returning to his perch. 
Though the Blue Birds have been known to take long flights, 
when traveling, yet they rarely fly far at other times, and, 
though when journeying they move through the air at a con- 
siderable height, at other times they usually remain rather near 
the ground, but they never, as a rule, stand on it, except occa- 
sionally when collecting bits of straw or the like, with which 
to build their nests. In autumn they gather in small flocks, 
and in October generally depart from this State, though a few 
linger until November. 
(d). The only song of the Blue Birds is a repetition of a 
** sadly-pleasing”” but cheerful warble of two or three notes, 
tinged (so to speak) by a mournful tone. This they often 
give utterance to when on wing, as well as when perched. In 
autumn, and when with their young, their usual note is a single 
sad whistle, but they occasionally use a peculiar chatter as a 
call-note to their young, whose notes differ from those of their 
parents. 
I shall here close my account of these birds, deservedly 
popular as forerunners of spring, companions of man, and 
cheerful, beneficial laborers, by Beers a few lines from one 
of Alexander Wilson’s poems. 
In Autumn 
“The Blue-bird, forsaken, yet true to his home, 
‘* Still lingers, and looks for a milder to-morrow, 
“Till fore’d by the horrors of winter to roam, 
‘*He sings his adieu in a lone note of sorrow. 
