100 



Canadian Forestry Journal, March, 1919 



of the twenty nests are within twenty feet of 

 where we are working. They have come to us 

 for protection, you have to beHeve that. They 

 destroy large numbers of house flies. The ladies 

 say — of course, the ladies never tell what is 

 not true that there is not more than one house 

 fly now w'here there were five previous to the 

 coming of these barn swallows, purple martms, 

 and so on. Scientists tell us that the typhoid 

 fly will carry that deathly disease, and if we 

 preserve the swallow which destroys these flies, 

 surely it will be well with us and we will prolong 

 our days. We protected one nest; now one 

 hundred swallows are raised in that shed every 

 year. 



Rescuing a Robin. 



Now, what good is the robin? Everybody 

 knows the robm. A boy came along the road 

 with a .22 rifle, saw a robin sitting on the fence, 

 and killed it. I went over and picked the robin 

 up. Two cutworms were squirmmg on the 

 ground; the robin had had them in his beak. I 

 held the bird up, and two more fell out of his 

 mouth. Remember, one cutworm will cut down 

 five tomato plants in a night. This fellow does 

 his work and then hides under the soil; Mr. 

 Robin comes hopping along, picks in there and 

 pulls him out — and turns him into a robm. If 

 anyone tells you that a robin will destroy one 

 hundred cutworms in a day, take it from me 

 that it is true. The morning after this boy pro- 

 mised me that he wouldn't shoot another robin, 

 at the fir-tree by our house were two little robins 

 dead under the nest and two in the nest just 

 alive. We took them into the house — it is 

 wonderful what an effect a httle bird can have 

 on our family. One bird will stop a whole 

 plantation; I have known a wild duck to stop 

 the whole brickyard. However, we took these 

 two robins in, warmed them up, and made some 

 custard for them — one egg, half a cup of milk, 

 no sugar. They couldn't open their mouths, 

 they were so nearly gone. We took one of 

 them, pried its beak open and dropped in some 

 custard, and the first thing we knew he came to, 

 and in a minute or so began to squeak for more 

 custard. The other little fellow was supposed 

 to be dead, but he, too, soon began to look 

 around, and these two robins became the sweet- 

 est birds we ever had on the premises. 



You know how a door will slam once in a 

 while in the house. Well, there was a good 

 slam one morning, when someone had left the 

 screen door open and Jasper's pet robin — Jasper 

 is our son — had come in and was resting in 

 what we call the cold storage — a room in the 



front of the house which is sometimes called the 

 parlor. Here he was on his mother's picture, 

 and the broom was going smartly after him. 

 Jasper came with a tin, the robin flew into the 

 tin, and the boy carried friend robin out to 

 safety. That is how we get enjoyment out of 

 these things. 



Do Birds Come Back? 



Do birds come back to their homes? How 

 many times I have been asked that question. 

 Oh, yes, they do come back. "Well, how do 

 you know. Jack"? Then you would have to talk 

 about the weather — switch the subject. But I 

 will tell you the rest of the story. 



I hatched four wild young mallards -well, I 

 didn't hatch them; I stole the eggs. A domes- 

 tic fowl eventually hatched out four little wild 

 ducks, and there they were, under the old hen, 

 wilder than park horses. However, the old hen's 

 voice soon brought them out, and several little 

 girls began to come out from under their step- 

 mother and look around, and eventually they 

 would take some of the custard right in my 

 presence. These ducks soon were so tame that 

 the tap of a tin would bring them to you. They 

 got to be quite a size, and we named them, re- 

 spectively, Polly, DeHlah, Susan and Helen, and 

 presented each one with an aluminum tag, on 

 which was printed the words, "Box 48, Kings- 

 ville, Ont." When autumn came the four ducks 

 migrated — ^that is, on or about Dec. 1 0th, 1912. 

 Dr. Rutherford, of Chatham, shot one, Helen, 

 at Mitchell's Bay, Lake St. Clair. How they 

 got to the east of us I don't know, for they 

 started south. I guess they had taken such a 

 Hking for me, that they started for Ohio, where 

 I was born. On March 14, 1913, Polly came 

 home. On March 18, Delilah came home, and 

 on March 30, Susan, although wounded in the 

 wing and foot, returned home. Is that not an 

 answer to the question, do birds return to the 

 place from whence they migrated? Well, I 

 wanted to go down, hitch up the self-starter, 

 and go to town, so that someone would ask me, 

 "Do birds return home"? 



Delilah and Polly. 



They mierated that autumn, and on March 

 14, 1914, Polly came home. On March 21 

 Delilah came home for the second time. The 

 two girls raised famiHes the next year — ^and, by 

 the way, they brought a Yankee sweetheart with 

 them ; and it is interesting, when they are ar- 

 riving, to see the ducks come down and try to 

 coax their new mates down too. 



Well, they migrated again for the third time. 

 In the spring of 1915 Delilah got home first; she 



