228 FROM MY WINDOW. 



canary, whose cage hung all summer outside the 

 kitchen door. The stranger alighted on a tree, 

 apparently astonished to be challenged, but he 

 replied at once. The canary, who was out of 

 sight on the other side of the cottage, answered, 

 and the droll conversation was kept up for some 

 time ; the woods bird turning his head this way 

 and that, eager to see his social neighbor, but 

 unable, of course, to do so. 



A little later in the season, when baby birds 

 began to fly about, the locust group became even 

 more attractive. Its nearness to the woods, as 

 already mentioned, made it convenient for forest 

 birds, and its seclusion and supply of food were 

 charms they could not resist. First of the fledg- 

 lings to appear were a family of crow blackbirds, 

 four of them with their parents. These are the 

 least interesting feathered young people I know, 

 but the parents are among the most devoted. 

 They keep their little flock together, and work 

 hard to fill their mouths. The low cry is husky, 

 but insistent, and they flutter their wings with 

 great energy, holding them out level with the 

 back. 



After berries began to ripen, the woodpeckers 

 came to call on us. In my walk in the woods in 

 the morning, I frequently brought home a 

 branch of elder with two or three clusters of ber- 

 ries, which I hung in the small dead tree. In 



