Notes from Field and Study 



239 



after year bear their meager pittance of 

 fruit which is never gathered. This 

 deserted lot and a low, shambling cottage 

 are the heritage of a lone spinster who is 

 ever alert for trespassing boys, lest they 

 covet a sour plum or a worm-eaten apple — 

 these are left for the birds; they revel by 

 day and the stray cats by night. 



This small area, just one mile from the 

 heart of the city, has attracted Black- 

 headed Grosbeaks, Bohemian Waxwings, 

 Western Robins, Red-shafted Flickers, 

 Mountain Chickadee, Ruby-crowned King- 

 lets, Yellow Warblers, a pair of these birds 

 having bred in this yard for seven years; 

 Townsend's Solitaire, Spurred Towhee, a 

 single Wilson's Warbler, this bird had 

 evidently wandered far out of its geo- 

 graphic range, but it remained in full view 

 sufficiently long to be sure of its identifica- 

 tion; a Yellow-breasted Chat; a pair of 

 Rocky Mountain Pine Grosbeaks were 

 noted several times during their breeding 

 season. We have studied these birds in 

 the high mountains where they remain 

 both summer and winter; however, their 

 recurrence led us to the belief that they 

 might be nesting in the pine trees in 

 Liberty Park, about a half-mile distant. 

 Once, when I had thrown out some sun- 

 flower seeds, I was pleased to find a lone 

 Crossbill enjoying the feast. 



Today, while sitting at my window read- 

 ing, a shaft of copper distracted my atten- 

 tion. For the moment I thought it was 

 the male of a pair of Robins that returns 

 to us €ach year, but there was too much 

 bustling and commotion among the low 

 bushes to indicate the presence of my 

 quiet friend, and a more careful scrutiny 

 revealed a male Spurred Towhee. How 

 intensely busy he was; how perfectly 

 oblivious to his surroundings. Soon there 

 was another, and then a third Towhee — 

 such darting to and fro, a moment of 

 repose, then a mad catapulting. It seemed 

 as though the entire dynamic force of the 

 whole bird world was pent up in these 

 three energetic little creatures. It was 

 intensely interesting to watch them 

 scratch for food, using both feet at the 

 same time, jumping forward and back, and 



with their little black heads bobbing, it 

 reminded me so much of the negro rousta- 

 bouts that used to come up the Miss- 

 issippi on the old lumber scows — the 

 boats unloaded, their joy found vent in 

 singing and jigging the 'Coonjine' to 

 the strumming of a banjo or perhaps the 

 syncopated rattle of a pair of bones. 



For two weeks a male Robin has been 

 singing each morning and evening his 

 praises of the spring returned and calling 

 to his mate to hasten back and join him. 

 This afternoon, as he sat on his high perch 

 on the box-elder tree, he could not long 

 withstand the sight of another bird of 

 copper, brown, and white. He flew to the 

 ground, and I could almost see his dis- 

 appointment. He stood perplexed, be- 

 wildered; he looked down at himself, then 

 at the other bird — yes — the same color- 

 ing, but was it of his kin, this nervous, 

 restless creature — no, indeed. I could see 

 his indignation rise as he straightened 

 back his head and puffed out his already 

 corpulent little body — such needless haste 

 to secure one's dinner — his utter disgust 

 was so manifest. He hopped in a semi- 

 circle intently watching the Towhees, then, 

 as much as to say, "Now watch me," he 

 pulled a huge worm out of the soft earth, 

 leisurely eating it piece by piece, but the 

 Towhees did not heed the admonition; 

 they kept right on with their bustling 

 and scratching. Finally one discovered a 

 mass of snow remaining on top of one of 

 the low bushes. Instantly an inspiration 

 had seized him, and he was on top of it. 

 In another second he had shaped a little 

 cavity; then the snow began to fly, left, 

 right and in every direction — -oh, such 

 an exciting time, but finally the snow- 

 bath was accomplished — and the entrance 

 of a hungry gray cat dispersed the bird's 

 matinee. — Mrs. A. 0. Treganza, Salt 

 Lake City, Utah. 



Red Phalarope in Pennsylvania 



On Sunday morning, December 15, 

 1918, a George School student picked up 

 a strange bird which he brought to the 

 school. The bird was still alive but in a 



