

Garden and Forest. 



[Number 455. 



pice, but this is only a part of the spectacle, and its general 

 effect is weakened by the destruction of the original setting 

 of the picture. Perhaps it was not practicable to set these 

 buildings back from the river and mask them somehow 

 with a belt of forest. But it may be taken for granted that 

 the eminent engineers who planned all this never felt that 

 any reverence was due to this sublime spectacle, and the 

 capitalists who employed them naturally cared for profit, 

 without a thought that such a spot as Niagara ought to be 

 the possession of the world. After all, we should, perhaps, 

 be thankful that there is so much of grandeur left to us, 

 and we should congratulate the people of New York and 

 Canada that they had a sufficiently high appreciation of 

 the great cataract to make some effort to preserve it. Nev- 

 ertheless, it is not creditable to our civilization that we have 

 permitted any defacement whatever of this world's wonder. 



Autumn Birds in the Pines. 



IN September and during pleasant days in October we 

 see more birds here than at any other time in the year. 

 The migrants come flocking in from the north and stay 

 with us for several days, and during this time many are 

 flitting about that do not remain with us either in the sum- 

 mer or in the winter. Among the most lively species are 

 the various warblers. Sometimes in early morning large 

 flocks of the yellow-rumped warbler appear as if they had 

 suddenly dropped in the night. Mingling with these is 

 the charming little black-throated blue warbler, flitting here 

 and there, catching insects on the wing, frolicking with its 

 companions and performing gymnastic feats almost equal 

 to those of the chickadee. Its throat and the sides of the 

 body are jet-black; the back is blue — not a brilliant but a 

 faded blue ; the under side is white. Its sprightliness and 

 pretty markings make it conspicuous among its numerous 

 relatives. The red-poll warbler is also here and stays later 

 than most of the others. It has a dull red crown, with a 

 dusky olive back, while it is a bright yellow below. The 

 handsomePine warbler is very abundant, pale yellow above, 

 with deep yellow breast and white wing-bars. It is one 

 of our largest warblers, and I think it must breed with us, 

 but I have not been able to find its nest, although I have 

 noticed it in the Pine-woods in summer, and in the autumn 

 it often comes about the house in numbers. The interest- 

 ing little Maryland yellow-throat nests with us, and this 

 season a pair brought their young near the door. It is a 

 fine songster throughout the season, and in the autumn 

 many others join them here from more northern sections, 

 when they halt and play for several days before their depar- 

 ture to a warmer climate. 



This autumn great flocks of seed-eating finches and spar- 

 rows came with the warblers. Even the winter bird, Junco, 

 came two weeks earlier than I ever before observed it, in 

 immense numbers, but most of these early arrivals disap- 

 peared with the warblers. Many winter here as well 

 as in the more southern states, all the way to Florida. 

 The handsome tree-sparrow is abundant now, flocking in 

 from the northern mountains where it spends its summers. 

 Many of these, too, will go farther south, but a goodly 

 number will remain all winter with the song-sparrows, and 

 the beautiful white-throated sparrow, which is a good song- 

 ster in pleasant weather, even in winter, but it does not equal 

 the song-sparrow in the volume and variety of its notes. 

 The swamp-sparrow seems to be everywhere in the damp 

 Pines, but it seldom comes about the house. It is darker- 

 colored than most of the other sparrows and is more shy 

 and retiring. 



This autumn for the first time I noticed the white-crowned 

 sparrow. The top of its head is pure white, bordered with 

 black. It is an attractive bird, but not as handsome as the 

 white-throat, which comes about our doors in winter, and 

 almost to our feet for food. The tox-sparrow is another 

 handsome species, most numerous in autumn, but a few 

 remain all winter. In color it somewhat resembles the 

 long-tailed thrush, but with deeper and richer hues of dark 



bay or rufous. It is an active bird, and even larger than 

 the white-throat. Like the brown thrush and chewink, it 

 seems to delight in making the dry leaves fly ; several are 

 now near my window scratching among the leaves which 

 have settled around a clump of Lilacs. It has an amusing 

 way of striking with both feet without raising its wings, and 

 then looking about to see what choice morsel has been 

 uncovered. Evidently it likes a meat diet as well as seeds. 

 How little the most of us realize how vast an amount of 

 noxious insects and how many seeds of noxious weeds these 

 birds consume. In winter large flocks may be seen for- 

 aging in our fields, gardens and waysides, picking up un- 

 told quantities of the eggs and chrysalids of insects as well 

 as seeds. 



The winter birds return to the same neighborhood and 

 haunts, year after year, with the same regularity as the 

 summer birds. When the ground is covered with snow I 

 have mingled cracked hickory-nuts with the grain I fed 

 them. When I first offered this unaccustomed food it was 

 left, but now and then, after the grain was gone, a bird 

 would pick at the nuts, and, finding them good, soon 

 learned to take them in preference to anything else. Then 

 another and another learned the trick. The slate-colored 

 winter sparrow, Junco, the white-throat and Fox and song 

 sparrow all took the nuts sooner than the grain. They 

 would snatch a piece of shell and fly a little distance, pick 

 out the meat and return for more ; and very expertly some 

 of them managed to get the meat. When one chanced to 

 secure a piece that was difficult to master he would put one 

 foot on the shell and hold it while he probed and brought 

 out the refractory morsel, but not all were equal adepts in 

 this ; some even of the same species were not as quick- 

 witted as their companions, and I have often observed the 

 same thing in birds when eating the seed from grass-heads. 

 Some will take a stalk, bend it down and hold it firmly 

 while they pick out the seed ; others will have a hard time 

 to capture seed from the swaying stalk. 



The following winter, after the birds have learned to eat 

 the nuts, they do not need to be retaught, but remember 

 their lesson, and at once take the shells. The young that 

 come with the old ones at first stand aloof and eat the 

 grain, but it is not long before they, too, are preferring the 

 nuts. The young are not as decided in color as the old 

 birds, and other characteristics go to show the old from the 

 young. 



Our little field sparrow is more abundant in autumn ; at 

 least, we see more of them than in summer, and in winter 

 it is as familiar as the little chippy is in summer. It is 

 about the same size as the chippy, but has more of a red- 

 dish cast. It belongs in the genus Spizella along with 

 chippy ; in fact, all the members of this genus are small, 

 except the tree sparrow, S. monticola, which is nearly as 

 large as the song sparrow. All of our sparrows are neat 

 and dainty in habit, wholly unlike the scavenger of our 

 streets, the English sparrow, which in many places, espe- 

 cially on our churches, make sad havoc with the Ivy. Per- 

 haps it has a hereditary recognition of the Ivy as one of its 

 home plants. 



The little goldfinch has put on its winter dress and 

 is doing what it can toward exterminating many pesti- 

 lent weeds in all neglected places. Just now a party of 

 them are investigating the Cosmos seed in the border. 

 Either it is not in the right stage to suit them, or, for 

 some reason, they have concluded it is not wholesome, 

 and have gone to the heads of Zinnia, which suit them 

 much better. Some of them are swaying among the plumes 

 of the tall Pampas grass — graceful, merry bodies, remain- 

 ing with us the entire year. Their neat lichen-covered 

 nests are now conspicuous among the branches of partly 

 denuded trees. A near relative of theirs, the Pine linnet, 

 is returning from the north, where it goes to rear its family. 

 These, too, are jolly birds, and will stay with us all winter, 

 making the dry seed fly from the Pine cones, and then 

 whirling and performing gymnastics in the air so as to 

 catch it before it falls to the ground. 



