208 



Bird -Lore 



of its bill with my finger. Though it would 

 have its picture taken, this was too much, 

 and it flew away. Probably the bird had 

 become accustomed to people passing by 

 about a rod away, so that I was nothing 

 out of the ordinary. 



While I was going homeward I heard 

 the song of one of these birds nearby. In 

 almost the exact spot from which the notes 

 .seemed to come I found the nest contain- 

 ing one egg. Had this bird been singing 

 on its nest as the Warbling Vireo often 

 -does? Surely, circumstances would point 

 to this, for many times before I have found 

 the nest in the same place where I have 

 heard the bird singing. The next time I 

 came to these nests was on June 22, 

 and I made it a point to discover whether 

 my belief was true. From some distance 

 away, I approached silently behind a bank 

 -over which I soon was able to observe the 

 bird in question, through a glass, from about 

 five rods away. It was unaware of my 

 presence and, of course, acted in a natural 

 way. From the nest it watched for insects, 

 and occasionally sang, thus confirming my 

 .suspicions. 



But to return to the nest first found. 

 On this same day I found the bird on its 

 nest as usual and just as tame as ever. 

 This time, after taking a couple of pictures 

 at close range, I again reached out my 

 hand and stroked its tail, then its back and 

 finally the top of its head. At this it flew 

 -off but was soon back again at the edge of 

 the nest while I was looking at the eggs. 

 Doubtless the bird would soon have dis- 

 covered that I could be trusted, but unfor- 

 tunately I was now obliged to leave home 

 and therefore had no further opportunity 

 to gain its confidence, or learn the history 

 ■of its family. — Walter W. Bennett, 

 .Siotix City, la. 



weather, and left an unsightly place among 

 the green. It was over a "dry well" for 

 roof water, and I saw a chance to accom- 

 plish two things at once. (I was going to 

 say "to kill two birds with one stone," but 

 the figure would be out of harmony with 

 Bird-Lore's motto!) Finding an old 

 wash-bowl in my neighbor's barn, left 

 over from a renovation of the bathroom, 

 I plugged up the overflow and put a 

 removable cork in the outlet. Then, tak- 

 ing up a circular piece of sod from above 

 the dry well, and removing a few stones 

 beneath, I sank the bowl flush with 

 the surface. I then procured a round, flat 

 stone from a wall near by and placed it in 

 the bowl, so that when the latter was full 

 there should be an inch or so of water for 

 a bird to wade in; and the bath was com- 

 plete. The bowl is filled every day, and 

 from time to time — once a week or oftener 

 — I clean it out by removing the cork and 

 turning the hose into it. The water runs 

 off below through the stones of the dry 

 well. (If the bath is not emptied frequent- 

 ly, it may become, as I discovered, a 

 breeding-place for mosquitoes). 



The birds soon began to avail themselves 

 of the drinking and bathing privileges 

 afforded them, though I think they were 

 at first a little shy of the glaring white rim 

 of the bowl. This was soon overgrown 

 with grass, however; for now the grass 

 flourishes there, and from being dry and 

 unsightly the spot has become one of the 

 greenest on the lawn. So my two objects 

 were accomplished; and the bath has 

 performed a third service besides, for a 

 small leopard frog made his home in it for 

 some time last summer. Before winter, I 

 removed the bowl and filled the hole up 

 with stones. — Francis H. Allen, West 

 Roxbiirv, Mass. 



An Inexpensive Birds' Bath 



My birds' bath cost me nothing, except 

 a few minutes' work, and though the con- 

 ditions were perhaps exceptional, an 

 account of it may contain a suggestion or 

 two for some reader. In a certain spot on 

 my lawn the grass "burned up" in dry 



Shovelers in Massachusetts 



On April 18, while spending the day at 

 Marshfield, Mass., I came across a pair of 

 Shovelers {Spatula clypeata) and watched 

 them for over three hours. They were 

 feeding in a fairly good-sized pond on the 

 salt-marshes, which at the time was hardly 



