ORMSBEE 



BIRD NOTES 77 



bluebirds over in the tree yonder were telling me with greatest 

 complacence, that spring is "tru-al-ly" here. They were too far 

 away on the other side of the old garden with its stmimer-hoiise and, 

 alas, wet ground and two fences, for me to get nearer and from the 

 road I could not even with my glasses catch the blue but there was 

 no mistaking the voices or the message. I had seen and heard two 

 bluebirds. 



On I went even,' where meeting more brooks than one could 

 count. The tranquil, tiny brook, that trickles down through a 

 rock\' pasture in siunmer — the one that gives us the lovely forget- 

 me-nots in June — was a tumbling, seething little torrent, flecked 

 with foam. It had rapids and a great pool swirUng round the big 

 rock at the roadside and after it had crossed under the roadway, as 

 it went leaping down the slope, it boasted a series of cataracts. 

 Little unknown brooKs were continiially crossing the road in the 

 most tmexpected places seeming to say: "Now watch and see 

 what I can do!" What an amount of good it does us all to find 

 things out-of-doors alive again and Spring "tru-al-ly" here! 



Mar. 25. as soon as I wakened I could not help knowing that the 

 robins had come. During the day I watched three. As I started 

 to walk up our street I was attracted by some modest notes coming 

 from half way up an old, tall tree, whose branches had been 

 chained together. I levelled my glasses at a rufus-crowned spar- 

 row, that seemed to be sitting on the upright trunk in a way that 

 puzzled me. As I walked all about trying to get a good view with 

 my glasses my little friend sat chirping away quite undisturbed. 

 The breast was light gray with a not very- marked dark longitudinal 

 streak just below the throat. The bird suddenly disappeared, in 

 an instant reappeared and walked out a branch, when I saw the ver\- 

 neat hole, on the edge of which it had been sitting and which was 

 evidently the entrance to its home. Do you think it was a chip- 

 ping sparrow ? I may be able to tell you better what I think later. 

 F\u*ther up the street in another old tree a similar sparrow, with 

 however, a fiuiher breast, seemed. equally unconcerned as to my 

 movements. Here the loud notes of a hair\' woodpecker called me 

 across the street to watch his busy labors. 



As I came near a bit of woodland I stood for several minutes 

 listening to the unexpected plaintive notes of a wood pewee, which 

 ovu- Vermont Bird List gives as arriving toward the last of May. A 

 friend living out in the country, upon whom I called, informed me 

 she had been listening to red- winged blackbirds listed "about the 

 middle of April." 



