366 Bird - Lore 



our window cafeteria is in full swing, and we can scarcely keep_tlie children 

 at the table, so anxious are they to climb to the broad window-sill and look 

 into the beady black eyes of the hungry birds. The sunflower seeds seem to be 

 the first choice of the Chickadees, and although there are plenty scattered 

 over the shelf, and there are a dozen Chickadees and Nuthatches about, it is 

 seldom that more than one comes to the shelf at a time. Sometimes a Chickadee 

 hops to the edge of the shelf with a seed in his bill and, after tucking it under 

 both feet, proceeds to hammer it open. At such times others will sneak in 

 behind him and carry off the seeds, but more often they wait and each takes 

 his turn. The Nuthatches are thrifty and believe in laying up a store against 

 the time when the cafeteria proprietors may close the doors, and so, grasping 

 two or three seeds at once, they fly to the elm and tuck them into the crevices 

 of the bark. At first, when they are hungry, they hammer them open, but soon 

 they are content to carry and hide and hide and carry. Last spring one of the 

 seeds that had been hidden in the bark during the winter germinated and 

 produced quite a sizable plant before it died from lack of nourishment. The 

 little Chickadees are also provident, and they find the tiniest crevices in twigs 

 and weed-stems in which to hide their seeds. 



Next comes the old Hairy Woodpecker. With a swoop he lands on the far 

 side of the suet stub, and, with a flirt of his head, looks first to one side and then 

 to another. If anything alarms him, he clings, immovable as though frozen, 

 to the bark, but if all is safe, he sidles around the stub with short hops until his 

 full profile is visible to us. Then, after another pause, he chmbs jerkily up to 

 the suet which we have arranged on the window side of the stub. There is no 

 difficulty in distinguishing the Hairy from the Downy at this distance, for the 

 pure white outer tail-feathers are quite distinct and his larger size is very 

 appreciable. Later on we may have some trouble when we see the bird at a 

 distance too great to see the tail-feathers or to judge the size. Just to remind 

 us of the great difference in size along comes the Downy and alights on the 

 opposite side of the stub, and when we have them both together we wonder 

 why anyone ever confuses them. 



Next comes the Tree Sparrow, and he settles down in one spot on the shelf 

 and proceeds to gorge himself on the cracked wheat and millet. Even the 

 children know it is a Tree Sparrow for, as it faces the window, the single dark 

 spot on its plain fluffy breast shows very distinctly. The chimp-chimp of a 

 Song Sparrow in the hedge and the distant jay-jay of a Blue Jay tell us that 

 other visitors will soon be coming, but it is high time we started on our walk. 



We plan our course so as to cover as diverse types of country as possible, 

 following up our ravine until we come to the open fields, then along hedge-rows 

 and past the old orchard to the sugar-bush, through the sugar-bush to the 

 hemlock woods, and then down to the frozen swamp and the lake-shore. The 

 crisp air adds zest to our steps, and we are glad that there are no birds to stop 

 us until we get warmed up. It seems that all the birds of the ravine have 



