Notes from Field and Study 



423 



The Downy Woodpecker, the Nut- 

 hatches' boon companion, was our next 

 guest attracted by the suet, which he still 

 favors. He was an arresting sight. Such 

 style to his black-and-white costume of 

 contrast, set off the more vividly by the 

 splash of blood-red on his head! Is it a 

 case of hereditary nerves in the Wood- 

 pecker family which occasions the feverish 

 glancing and swaying of the head from 

 side to side before the vigorous attack 

 upon the suet, or do you think that it is 

 all done for effect — to display to full ad- 

 vantage that flashing crest in the sunlight? 

 Does the fact that his spouse does not 

 possess that distinguishing brilliance make 

 it more valuable in his eyes? Of course, we 

 will have to admit, will we not, his eyes in 

 this case are her eyes, for how could he 

 know about his superior marking if she 

 did not tell him? 



The Chickadees we have watched for 

 early and late, knowing them 'to be asso- 

 ciates of both Nuthatch and Downy, but 

 not until today did they put in their 

 appearance. Cousin Nuthatch brought 

 them down from the woods and intro- 

 duced them to the suet right before my 

 eyes. Veritable puff-balls of feathers ! 

 Small wonder they seek shelter in the 

 pines against the winter gales. While I 

 write I can look out upon the large maple 

 facing the window and see the Downy 

 mounting high up the tree-trunk, holding 

 himself regally, with lofty crest. Just 

 below him is the Nuthatch, head down, 

 vigorously claiming with his long bill the 

 attention of some grub imbedded in the 

 bark, while out on the end of a branch 

 hang the two Chickadees, giving a demon- 

 stration in tumbling that would take the 

 heart right out of a Swedish gymnast. 



You see I have begun with our feathered 

 aristocracy, whom we love but who do not 

 begin to afford us the real amusement 

 which we derive from the proletariat of the 

 air, the English Sparrow. They, as could 

 be expected, were right on hand to receive 

 everything coming their way, but all the 

 time ready to duck when signs of life 

 appeared at the window — like guilty con- 

 sciences in dirty-faced little ragamuffins, 



all ready to cry, "Cheese it, the cop !" 

 and be off. 



The most amusing thing about them 

 was the apparent utter astonishment they 

 displayed at being treated so well. For a 

 week after our trays went out they stood 

 singly and in groups, gaping in at the win- 

 dows and chattering discussions as to the 

 probable meaning of such a phenomenon. 

 I think their conversation must have run 

 something like this: "Gee whiz! What's 

 struck these folks anyway. We've been 

 living in these parts long enougETto lose 

 our cockney accent and nothing has hap- 

 pened like this before. Rumple our feath- 

 ers! if we can make out what's up. One 

 thing's sure we've got to keep our weather- 

 eye out for any minute they might turn 

 and scatter us!" — Katrine Blackinton, 

 Blackinton, Mass. 



Northern Shrike Visits a Feeding-shelf 



I have a bird feeding-shelf just outside 

 my window, attached to the window sill, 

 where Downy Woodpeckers, Chickadees, 

 and Nuthatches are daily visitants. Yester- 

 day (Dec. 12, 1917) I noticed an excite- 

 ment among my Canaries which were on 

 a table just inside the window. Upon 

 investigation I discovered a Northern 

 Shrike trying to get through the window, 

 evidently determined to make a dinner of 

 one of my birds. I stood by the window 

 and watched him for nearly five minutes — 

 within 3 feet. |'| After making persistent 

 efforts without success, he perched on the 

 feeding-shelf, cocking his head on one side 

 and the other, turning himself about as 

 much as to say, "Look at me if you want 

 to, I will bear inspection" when, suddenly 

 as if in disgust, he flew away.— Mrs. 

 Clark Pierce, Putnam, Conn. 



Observations on a Food-^elf 



The shelf measures 3 by 2 feet, is 2>^ feet 

 from the ground, 8 feet from a corner of 

 the house formed by my study and an en- 

 closed porch (into whose open door manj^ 

 a bird flies hastily, only to be examined 

 by me at leisure), and is 30 feet from a 



