Notes from Field and Study 



267 



lets were examined — thirty-four beneath 

 the same tree and six under a neighboring 

 one. All of these contained the bones of 

 rodents. One particularly large pellet had 

 the jaws of five rodents in the mass. Of 

 the remaining pellets, one held the jaws 

 of three rodents; several, two; and the 

 rest, one each. One pellet had a large 

 snail-shell crushed while another one had a 

 small shell, whole. A couple more had 

 the remains of a single crawfish in addition 

 to a rodent each. Eight pellets, composed 

 of fur and rodent bones, were examined 

 March 31. Judging from the shape and 

 coloring of the various jaw-bones, I should 

 say that at least three different kinds of 

 rodents had been devoured. 



Of all the pellets that were examined — 

 sixty in number — not one yielded the 

 remains of a bird. — W. Edwin Coon, Con- 

 neaittville, Pa. 



The Goldfinch 



For days, one January, the Goldfinch 

 note was in the air. When the first bird 

 who sang it came near enough to show the 

 green of his bronze coat and sang his 

 summer song in his winter voice, I winked, 

 grinned, kicked one foot with the other, 

 went through all the wakening exercises 

 one dares with a bird fifteen feet away. I 

 was surely awake. 



He faced me with a breast without a 

 sparrowy mark, turned upon me a back 

 of softest greenish bronze, and just as I 

 opened my heart to him the tree over my 

 head was filled with his brethren. 



Looking him up in my meager library, 

 I find that, like the poor, him "we have 

 always with us." Like the poor, also, he 

 endures much, lives on little, and keeps 

 cheery under a stress that sends many of 

 his stronger, better-equipped brethren to 

 a softer clime for the winter. 



Next time you see him in July, har- 

 vesting thistle and dandelion seed, in his 

 summer dress of gold, set off by his 

 jaunty cap and epaulets of nature's own 

 black, or when he dances over your head 

 to the tune of his own per-chick-o-ree! try 

 to think of him in sober bronze, cap and 



shoulder-straps gone rusty, and with the 

 same diverging flight, fighting a winter's 

 blast. 



Like the summer girl in her winter suit, 

 the fluff all gone out of her attire, but like 

 her, too, the summer's gold and sweet- 

 ness stored in the stronghold of his heart 

 to bubble out in the very face of the win- 

 ter. It was the same cheery song, only 

 just gone mellow ripe. 



The children came calling, one July 

 day — 



"Oh, Auntie, come quick! Some Gold- 

 finches are killing a little green bird!" 



Four male Goldfinches and one female 

 were making a kaleidoscope of the ground 

 in front of the house. We reached them, 

 finding the little green bird limp, though 

 warm. One male went away but the war 

 continued between the other three over 

 the dead body of the little lady. 



Withdrawing a little way we watched. 

 The situation soon disclosed itself. Two 

 of the birds would light by the dead 

 beauty, and how the feathers flew. I 

 could scarcely hold the children back from 

 storming the little savages. She had a 

 knight of her own color, however, "whose 

 strength was as the strength of ten because 

 his heart was pure." 



It was pounce and dart! Dash and 

 counter-dash, for a minute or two and 

 the two brigands retired to the 'phone 

 wire across the street. Sir Galahad lit 

 beside his lady fair, fluttered about for a 

 minute or two, and then took station on 

 the light wire overhead. The same 

 program was carried out at intervals for 

 half an hour. If one of us went near or 

 picked up the dead bird her champion 

 hovered around, and when we laid her 

 down, satisfied himself no new harm had 

 come to her and then took up his watch, 

 the marauders looking on. 



Toward night their interest seemed to 

 wane, and they finally went away singing 

 per-chick-o-ree as blithely as though 

 murder had not sullied their hearts. 



Not so Sir Galahad. Late bedtime 

 found him still at his vigil. Morning and 

 noon of the next day found him there. But 

 in the afternoon he was gone. The boys 



