BIRDS AND ALL NA 



ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. 



VOL. VI. 



JUNE, 1899. 



No. i 



MY NEIGHBOR IN THE APPLE TREE. 



NELLY HART WOODWORTH. 



TROPICAL portions of the Amer 

 ican continent, rich in an end 

 less variety and beauty of bird- 

 life, have shared with New 

 England but a single species of Tro- 

 chilidse, Trochilus colubris, the ruby- 

 throated humming bird. 



This "glittering fragment of a rain 

 bow" adds a decorative feature to our 

 gardens, its nest so protected through 

 diminutive size and perfect adaptation 

 to the surroundings that it rarely comes 

 under one's observation. 



It is commonly asserted that the 

 male is an arrant shirk, that he leaves 

 the entire labor of building and fur 

 nishing the house as well as the heavy 

 duties of housekeeping to the faithful 

 mother, being in the fullest sense a 

 silent partner either from choice or 

 otherwise, a mere apology for a hus 

 band and head of a family. 



Nor does he redeem himself when 

 the prospective "twins" arrive and slen 

 der bills are lifted appealingly for 

 food! No thanks to him that the naked, 

 squirming little atoms replacing the 

 two white eggs become gradually 

 stronger, that some hint of plumage 

 duly covers their nudeness, or that bye- 

 and-bye they become birds in reality. 

 Two years ago this "little lady in 

 green" made her nest upon an apple 

 tree branch, concealing it so deftly that 

 the gardner at work near by was un 

 aware of the distinguished guests until 

 the brooding was nearly over. When 

 the little birds had flown the lichened 

 residence, becoming a family posses- 



daintiest 



sion, was considered the 

 souvenir of the summer. 



Being anxious to know if this rare, 

 interesting episode would be repeated, 

 the following summer I watched care 

 fully for its repetition. Promptly in 

 June I found that a humming bird was 

 again "at home," this time upon a hori 

 zontal maple branch, twelve feet from 

 the ground and directly over the side 

 walk. This nest was soldered upon 

 a long slender bough half an inch in 

 thickness at the intersection of another, 

 a mere twig a quarter of an inch 

 through, the latter inwrought with, and 

 concealed for a full inch in the struc 

 tural fiber. Upon the 22d of the same 

 month, by the aid of a ladder I found 

 that two eggs "the size of yellow 

 beans" were lying inside the downy 

 cup shaped nest. Before this luckless 

 visitation the tail of the brooding bird 

 could be seen from the ground, but 

 during the next two days there was no 

 sign of life thereabout. 



In the afternoon of the third day my 

 bird was in the maple, darting hither 

 and thither like a swallow, plunging 

 into the insect swarms and securing 

 several before they realized her pres 

 ence. Then she came to the honey 

 suckle beside me, hovering over it in a 

 bewildered, irresolute manner as if de 

 bating whether she could safely probe 

 its scarlet cups. Just at this moment 

 a big miller flew by and off she went 

 in close chase, capturing it upon the 

 wing. Then she rested upon a maple 

 twig, leisurely preened her feathers, 



