2io Gray Days of Birds [FIRST WEEK 



eggs and chrysalides hidden away in crevices throughout 

 the long winter. 



Thus there seems always a time when we hesitate to 

 talk or write of our favourite theme, especially if this be 

 some class of life on the earth, because, perchance, it is 

 not at its best. 



Even birds have their gray days, when in the autumn 

 the glory of their plumage and song has diminished. At 

 this time few of their human admirers intrude upon them 

 and the birds themselves are only too glad to escape obser- 

 vation. Collectors of skins disdain to ply their trade, as 

 the ragged, pin-feathery coats of the birds now make sorry- 

 looking specimens. But we can find something of interest 

 in birddom, even in this interim. 



Nesting is over, say you, when you start out on your 

 tramps in late summer or early autumn; but do not be too 

 sure. The gray purse of the oriole has begun to ravel at 

 the edges and the haircloth cup of the chipping sparrow 

 is already wind-distorted, but we shall find some house- 

 keeping just begun. 



The goldfinch is one of these late nesters. Long after 

 his northern cousins, the pine siskins and snowflakes, have 

 laid their eggs and reared their young, the goldfinch begins 

 to focus the aerial loops of his flight about some selected 

 spot and to collect beakfuls of thistledown. And here per- 

 haps, we have his fastidious reason for delaying. Thistles 

 seed with the goldenrod, and not until this fleecy substance 

 is gray and floating does he consider that a suitable nest- 

 ing material is available. 



When the young birds are fully fledged one would 



