AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 67 



THE BIRDS OF A CITY HAUNT. 



By Gcy H. Emeesox. 



I have visited some very beautiful and interesting birding-places since 

 the love of Nature study was awakened in me; some places were dis- 

 tinguished for their natural beauty; some for the rarity of the birds to 

 be found within their limits; and others for their great variety of species. 

 I know of no single haunt, however, which so well combines these three 

 qualities, and which is, at the same time, so small' as a little place not 

 far from the gilded dome of Boston's Statehouse. In our little orni- 

 thological circle it has been familiarly known as "The Haunt," and I 

 shall so refer to it in these papers. 



The few acres which make up the Haunt are portions of three estates, 

 and the section is not in the least private; in fact its beauty makes it 

 very popular for walking, and it is traA-ersed by two roads and several 

 paths. Within its small compass are an oak grove, a stubbly pasture, 

 a bush-grown lowland, a pond with a winding brook which empties into 

 the Charles River, and a large dump-pile. Electric cars pass on two 

 sides of the Haunt, and all points in it are in view from some of the 

 nearby houses. 



I was fortunately situated just across the street from this little "rus 

 in urbe" and it was my custom for over two years to visit it daily 

 except during the mid-summer season. As a result I have made a list 

 of over eighty species there from personal observation, and other re- 

 liable records which have been kindly furnished me bring the list up to 

 one hundred. I shall try to describe my friends in the Haunt during 

 the different seasons. 

 When 



"Heaped in the hollows of the grove, 



The withered leaves lie dead 

 And rustle to the eddying gust 

 And to the rabbit's tread:" 



when the bright summer songsters are gone, and the evenings grown 

 chilly, there appears in the Haunt a little band of cheerful birds which 

 are to me the most typical of the winter season. I have called them 

 the "Winter Friends;" they are the Chickadee, Downy Woodpecker, 

 Golden-crowned Knight, Brown Creeper and White-breasted Nuthatch. 

 One of the unmistakable signs of approaching winter is the flocking of 

 birds. As soon as the moulting season is over birds begin to wander 

 about, and the vast "roosts" of Robins, and the gathering together of 

 large numbers of warblers, finches, and shore-birds illustrate this habit. 

 In the case of the Winter Friends the rule that birds of a feather flock 

 together is not borne out, although the general tendency is more forci- 



