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Bird-House Tenants 



A bird-house has stood for several 

 years on a pole in front of our "Wickiup" 

 in the woods on the outskirts of Wash- 

 ington, D. C. It is a ten-room Martin 

 house built in Jacob's best style, but so 

 far not a Martin has deigned to occupy 

 it, though there is a large colony only 

 half a mile distant. I had supposed that 

 one reason was that the Bluebirds came 

 early and were already in possession when 

 the Martins arrived, but this year the 

 severe winter so sadly reduced the Blue- 

 birds that not one appeared around the 

 house, yet still no Martins visited the 

 premises. 



The bird-house has ten rooms, and, 

 though each of these has in turn been 

 occupied, there has been no time in all 

 the years when two families were living 

 there together. In 191 1, the Bluebirds 

 came first and dallied in the neighbor- 

 hood for a month. Just as they finally 

 began building, a pair of House Wrens 

 appeared, which had occupied a room in 

 the house late the previous season. An 

 active warfare ensued that lasted for 

 several days, and had not yet been de- 

 cided when a pair of Great-crests took a 

 hand in the scrimmage. These latter 

 had nested for years in the woods behind 

 the house, but this season they determined 

 to come out into the open. They routed 

 both Bluebird and House Wren, built in 

 one of the rooms of the Martin, and suc- 

 cessfully reared their family. The House 

 Wren then retreated to a knothole in a 

 nearby fence -post, where a Carolina 

 Chickadee had raised a brood the pre- 

 vious year. The hole was so small that 

 the Wren could not bring in even one 

 stick, and laid the eggs on the remains 

 of the Chickadee nest. 



The young Wrens left the nest two 

 days before the young Great-crests were 

 ready to launch out into the world. Those 

 two days were days of trouble for the 



(1: 



Great-crests. The Wrens wanted the 

 bird-box for their second brood, and were 

 not bashful in proclaiming the fact. Mr. 

 Wren would alight on the bushes under 

 the house and sing his loudest. Accept- 

 ing the challenge, out would come Mrs. 

 Great-crest and drive him off, only to 

 find him back again as soon as she re- 

 turned to her household duties. After 

 two days she carried off her family, and 

 within an hour the Wrens began bring- 

 ing sticks. In due time they departed 

 with their second brood, and in less than 

 a week the Bluebirds appeared and took 

 an apartment for their second venture. — - 

 Wells W. Cooke, Washington, D. C. 



A Narrow Escape 



It is not often that one sees attempted 

 murder in the broad daylight in New 

 York City, at least within the confines 

 of a theological seminary. 



As I was crossing the quadrangle of 

 Union Theological Seminary (at Broad- 

 way and 1 20th Street) on the afternoon 

 of Oct. 28, I became aware of something 

 swooping like an arrow toward the ground. 

 The next instant I heard a feeble bird-cry 

 of terror, and the sound of soft bodies strik- 

 ing the stone walls of the building. As I 

 ran forward to discover what had hap- 

 pened, a male Sparrow Hawk, disturbed 

 by my approach, sailed past and, mount- 

 ing easily to the chapel tower, perched 

 on one of the pinnacles and peered down 

 to await developments. 



At the base of the wall lay a Chickadee 

 flat on his back, with bill open, gasping 

 for breath, his black eyes shining and his 

 heart fluttering with mortal fear. Pick- 

 ing him up, I soon ascertained that no 

 bones were broken and that his chief 

 difficulty was shock and loss of breath. 

 Meanwhile the hawk, foiled of his prey, 

 spread wings for other haunts and sailed 

 disdainfully away. 



The Chickadee spent the rest of the 



