AT HOME 345 



appears in sharp outline against the bright disk, seated 

 on his many-tined perch. 



The neighborhood of Washington abounds in birds 

 no less than in flowers. There have been one or two 

 rather curious changes among its birds since John Bur- 

 roughs wrote of them forty years ago. He speaks of the 

 red-headed woodpecker as being then one of the most 

 abundant of all birds even more so than the robin. It 

 is not uncommon now, and a pair have for three years 

 nested in the White House grounds; but it is at present 

 by no means an abundant bird. On the other hand, John 

 Burroughs never saw any mocking-birds, whereas during 

 the last few years these have been increasing in numbers, 

 and there are now several places within easy walking or 

 riding distance where we are almost sure to find them. 

 The mocking-bird is as conspicuous as it is attractive, 

 and when at its best it is the sweetest singer of all birds; 

 though its talent for mimicry, and a certain odd perversity 

 in its nature, often combine to mar its performances. The 

 way it flutters and dances in the air when settling in a 

 tree-top, its alert intelligence, its good looks, and the com- 

 parative ease with which it can be made friendly and 

 familiar, all add to its charm. I am sorry to say that 

 it does not nest in the White House grounds. Neither 

 does the wood-thrush, which is so abundant in Rock 

 Creek Park, within the city limits. Numbers of robins, 

 song-sparrows, sputtering, creaking purple grakles 

 crow blackbirds and catbirds nest in the grounds. So, I 

 regret to say, do crows, the sworn foes of all small birds, 

 and as such entitled to no mercy. The hearty, whole- 



