The Audubon Societies 127 



The same pen set down the thought of our kinship to nature in these rare 

 lines: 



When first the crocus thrusts its point of gold 

 Up through the still snow-drifted garden mold., 

 And folded green things in dim woods unclose 

 Their crinkled spears, a sudden tremor goes 

 Into my veins, and makes me kith and kin 

 To every wild-born thing that thrills and blows. 



— Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

 REFERENCES 



Man and His Conquest of Nature, by Marian Newbiggin. 



The Colorado Desert, etc., The National Geographic Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 8. 



Carrying Water through a Desert, etc., Ibid, Vol. XXI, No. 7; Vol. XXI, No. 8. 



Camps and Cruises of an Ornithologist, by F. M. Chapman. 



Birds of California in Relation to the Fruit Industry, by F. E. L. Beal. Bull. 30, 

 Biol. Survey. 



A Primer of Forestry, by Gifford Pinchot. Farmers' Bull. No. 173, U. S. Dept. of 

 Agriculture. 



Bird-Lore and National Geographic Magazine (see back numbers). — A. H. W. 



FROM YOUNG OBSERVERS 



Observations on the Habits of Birds 



While walking along the street one day, I heard a queer sound, but did 

 not know what it was, although it sounded somewhat like a bird. As I could 

 not see, I made up my mind to hunt until I could find out what it was. After 

 about fifteen minutes' hunt, I saw two birds that were about as large as black- 

 birds, and were like blackbirds in every respect; but, as I got closer to them, 

 I saw that they were of an iridescent olive-green, which made me think they 

 were Purple Grackles. These birds were hopping around from tree to tree, 

 as if looking for a good location to build a nest; but suddenly the birds stop- 

 ped hopping and lighted on a branch where, after a while, they started to bring 

 straw and other material to build the nest. The location which they found 

 was a splendid one, because it was pretty well hidden from sight. I should 

 have liked to stay longer with the birds; but, as I was to hurry home, I went. 

 I did not go to see the birds again until one Sunday morning. On that morn- 

 ing I did not see the nest, but the birds were still there, and were hopping about 

 and chirping as if something had happened. I do not know if some bird had 

 robbed the nest and then torn it down, or if the wind had blown it down. 

 Although I looked around, I could not see the nest; so, if the wind had blown 

 it down, some one had found it before I got there. — Zylpha O'Rourke (age 

 13), 7th Grade, Chelsea, Mich. 



On April, 7, 191 2, in front of our house there were two Robins. The female 

 was watching for something. She was hopping around anxiously. In about 



