Birds of My Garden 131 



making many trips in and around the new houses. Some of these were nailed 

 against tree trunks, and half a dozen topped the alternate posts of a grape 

 trellis. Which location would they prefer ? To my mind the trees were prefer- 

 able, not so the birds. While three pairs seemed unsettled, and finally went 

 over to a neighbor's orchard, one pair very deliberately went in and out of the 

 post-houses for several days, finally choosing one that was slightly sheltered 

 by an overhanging tree. Having located, they became the most friendly of 

 garden companions, feeding close to us and splashing in the very latest im- 

 provement in birds' baths the garden affords — the large cap-stone of a wall, 

 in which a day's tooling has made a natural-looking hollow twelve by twenty 

 inches. A bird's drinking- or bathing-place, to be successful, should slope 

 gradually from the edges, and bear as few signs of artifice as possible. The 

 larger birds frequent the pool, and in the summer, when the water-lily leaves 

 are large, the smaller species often use them as islands, but in the nesting 

 season nothing will be more appreciated than a nicely hollowed stone, a trifle 

 in the shade, and yet not where cats may lie near-by in ambush. 



In one single morning, the birds that came to drink gave me the key to 

 those that were nesting near-by — Phoebe, Song, Chipping and Field Sparrows, 

 Chickadee, Goldfinch, Maryland Yellow-throat and, last of all, a dancing, 

 joyous Redstart. 



In my garden, the Phoebe is one of the early nest-builders, and, in spite 

 of the lateness of the spring, I found eggs in the nest on April 25. Food supply 

 may have something to do with this, for, even under modern sanitary con- 

 ditions, the place teems with insect life while yet woods and fields have nothing 

 to offer the Flycatcher tribe. 



We have had two pairs of Phoebes and a single pair of Wood Peewees 

 every season, ever since I can remember. If it were not for the way in which 

 lice breed in the bulky nest of the Phoebe, I should call it one of the most 

 welcome birds, for its lack of true song is made up by its colloquial call and, 

 at times, frantic earnestness in telling its own name. 



A landscape gardener said to me, a few weeks ago, "Why do you trim your 

 shrubs so sparingly? Is it merely on account of the labor implied, or is it a 

 matter of theory?" 



"it is something more practical than theory. I do not wish to prune away 

 the birds," I repHed, "for if you wish to have Catbirds, Brown Thrushes, 

 Yellow-throats, Song and Chipping Sparrows nest in the garden, plenty of 

 thick (I had almost said untidy) bushes are a necessity. Shrubs such as the 

 common purple Hlac and the bridal wreath spirea have a way of throwing 

 up root suckers, so as, in a short time, to fortify the original bush against the 

 random attack of cats. I say, random, because, if a cat makes up its mind to 

 reach a nest, nothing short of a barbed tangle or a tree made rat- and cat- 

 proof with an inverted tin collar, applied after the method of protecting the 

 supports of a granary, will be of any use. 



