iqS 



Bird - Lore 



could not be found. The incident was soon 

 forgotten. 



Then we noticed that a pair of Robins had 

 commenced to construct a nest in the topmost 

 branches of a tall maple tree that stood at 

 the back of the house. We watched them 

 carrying mud, horsehair, and quantities of 

 cotton twine, and when their house was fin- 

 ished we saw a long red streamer gaily wav- 

 ing from it in the wind. 



All summer the bright pennant fluttered in 

 every breeze. The Robins reared their 

 broods — one followed by another. I often 

 wondered what the red flag was that was 

 flaunted so boldly high above our heads and 

 so far out of our reach. 



Autumn came. The birds had flown. Then 

 one night the wind blew a terrible gale, and 

 the next morning I found that a large bough 

 had been broken off from the maple tree. It 

 was the one that held in its forked branches 

 the Robins' nest. I picked it up, and, woven 

 into its adobe walls, along with twine and 

 horsehair, was a bright red satin ribbon, and 

 resting in the bottom, thickly covered with 

 cotton, pieces of twine, feathers, and more 

 ribbon, was Helen's bunch of keys to which 

 the ribbon was attached. 



I would not have believed that a Robin 

 could carry such a heavy weight as three 

 door-keys — one a brass one — had I not the 

 proof positive before my eyes. — Rosalee M. 

 Fee, Oregon. 



A Kingbird's Nest 



During the summer of 1919, a pair of 

 Kingbirds deserted their usual abode in 

 the orchard and built a shaky nest in a 

 dead tree growing in the lake. The loca- 

 tion afforded no protection whatever, and 

 was in plain sight of all who went up or 

 down the body of water. The nest was but 

 five feet high and so insecurely fastened 

 that every storm loosened it dangerously. 

 The attention of those watching the struc- 

 ture was much taken up in keeping it from 

 falling into the water. Despite the pub- 

 licity the nest received, from the knowledge 

 of its location, three eggs were laid and 

 jealously guarded from all intruders by 

 the beaks and wings of the elder birds. 



During incubation pictures were taken and 

 several lusty pecks sustained in the opera- 

 tion. We were not the only ones to receive 

 taps from the lord of the house, as many 

 small birds deserted the neighborhood on 

 account of their quarrelsome neighbors. 

 If a tyrant ever lived it is the Kingbird, 

 fighting his fellowmen and everything else. 

 He is not exactly a coward either, for I 

 have seen him attack birds twice his size, 

 though the reason for this may be the larger 

 birds' lack of speed in flight. 



In a few days the shells burst and three 

 young birds emerged. But little time was 

 given to the elders for the seeming pleasure 

 of fighting, as food was needed. The young 

 developed rapidly and were ready to fly 

 when one night a storm blew the nest on 

 an angle of forty-five degrees. One young 

 one hung by its claws imbedded in the 

 material of the nest. The other two piled 

 up on the side of the cup, crying for help. 

 The parents flew about uneasily as we 

 straightened the home, but when it was 

 adjusted we were attacked as of old. That 

 day they left and more than one person 

 was happy to see them leaving. — Don H 

 Robinson, Scranton, Pa. 



Starling and Henslow's Sparrow in 

 Ontario 



On the morning of May 15, 192 1, several 

 members of our Bird Club motored to Port 

 Stanley to spend a few hours with the birds. 

 We found them very numerous and in the 

 sheltered nooks the air was full of song. The 

 principal item of interest was the finding of 

 three Starlings along the lake-front. Our 

 attention was attracted by their harsh, gut- 

 tural notes, and although they flew away 

 several times, always returned to the tall 

 dead tree where we first noticed them. This 

 is the first record for the Starling for our 

 vicinity. For the benefit of American readers 

 who may not be familiar with Canadian 

 geography, we might say that Port Stanley 

 is on the north shore of Lake Erie, directly 

 across from Cleveland, Ohio. London, where 

 most of our Bird Club members live, is some 

 thirty miles inland. 



We have another interesting visitor to 



