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Bird-Lore 



ment. He is extremely tame, comes many 

 times almost immediately after we call him. 



This bird was first discovered in the 

 neighborhood the second week in July, 

 1903, bringing with him the most beautiful 

 song. He has been heard from every day 

 since and we have not known of his leaving 

 the block, which is about 800 feet long, 

 with a range of about 400 to 600 feet wide. 

 It has been my satisfaction to locate him 

 every day (except when out of town on a 

 short vacation). 



He sang until late in November, sitting 

 on a cedar hedge back of our house, pouring 

 forth every kind of bird note in a low strain, 

 lonely in its tone after all the other birds 

 had gone. Since then he has had a sharp 

 little call, like that of a Catbird, and has 

 given a few Thrush notes answering to our 

 call, but no song. He is having to eat the 

 food prepared for such birds, with carrot, 

 and, when the weather permits, he has 

 cooked squash, cranberry sauce, apple, meat 

 and potato; but the Mockingbird food is 

 the only thing that does not freeze solid, and 

 he is fond of it. . 



We have had the coldest, hardest winter 

 known here for many years, and it certainly 

 is very wonderful that he has survived. — 

 Mrs. Carroll E. Bowen, Rochester, N. Y. 



A Large Phoebe's Nest 



There is a suggestion in the picture of ' A 

 Large Phoebe's Nest' on page 199 of No- 

 vember and December Bird-Lore. A Black 

 Phoebe built her nest in a cigar-box which 

 I had nailed under the eaves of the stable. 

 The top of the box was several inches be- 

 neath the sloping eaves directly above it. 

 She raised a brood in March, and, re-lining 

 the nest, again in July. Next year she 

 commenced operations in the same nest, 

 when a Linnet took possession in the ab- 

 sence of Phoebe. Linnet built an addition 

 to suit herself, continuing the nest straight 

 up, with the line of demarcation very plain 

 between the mud and lichens of Phoebe and 

 her own straws and cotton. Phoebe watched 

 her chance and took possession as soon as 

 the young Linnets had gone, building the 

 nest a little higher. Next year Linnet got it 

 first, and so she and Phoebe alternated until 



seven stories rose above the original design. 

 The structure began to lean a little, and then 

 the Swallows took it and built out toward 

 the east their bottle nest. The mud was too 

 heavy and the whole sky-scraper or, better, 

 eaves- scraper, tumbled to the ground. 

 Mr. Stone's picture suggests three stories 

 nicely made. I have known the Linnets to 

 lay story after story in nests of their very 

 own year after year. — Elizabeth Grinnell, 

 Pasadena, California. 



A Swallow and Flycatcher Feud 



In a ranch-house snug against the foot- 

 hills in western Texas there lived for many 

 years an old Judge who was a good friend 

 of the birds. He never allowed any shoot- 

 ing on his premises, and when we were 

 there the trees and bushes around the house 

 were alive with birds, while his piazza was 

 possessed by a pair of the buff- breasted, 

 black-tailed Say's Flycatchers, and several 

 families of the blue-coated Barn Swallows. 



For three years the Flycatchers had been 

 contesting the ground with the Swallows. 

 To encourage the Swallows, the Judge had 

 nailed a piece of tin under two of the piazza 

 rafters, and the birds had shown their ap- 

 preciation of his kindness by promptly 

 building there; but, sad to relate, no sooner 

 had they finished the feather lining of the 

 nest than the Flycatcher fell upon them and 

 evicted them from their own premises. 



At the time of our visit, Saya was se- 

 renely brooding six white eggs in the Barn 

 Swallow's nest; but, not content with her 

 conquest, whenever the mood seized her she 

 would send the whole colony flying from 

 the piazza and light in a tree, snapping her 

 bill and shaking her tail with deplorable 

 gusto. 



The old friend of the Swallows watched 

 the usurpers with disapproval, and ex- 

 claimed emphatically, "If they don't quit 

 that monkey business I'll have to stop it. 

 The Swallows were here first." Then, 

 looking fondly at his favorites, he added, 

 with enthusiasm: "I have a string stretched 

 across the piazza, and they come and sing 

 to me while I read. I wouldn't have them 

 disturbed for twenty dollars apiece." — Flor- 

 ence Merriam Bailey, Washington, D. C. 



