498 NEW YORK STATE MUSEUM 



or trays on the window ledge or nailed to the trunks of trees. They par- 

 take freely of the food and undoubtedly are helped to weather successfully 

 the severest portion of the winter. 



The nuthatch is unquestionably one of our valuable tree protectors. 

 He keeps up a continued hunting for beetles, larvae and eggs of insects 

 which are hidden behind the crevices of bark or about the dead limbs. 

 Although he feeds to a considerable extent on nuts, grain and oily seeds 

 in the fall and winter, I have never heard complaint of his becoming a 

 nuisance. He sometimes takes seed corn which is hung up to dry, but on 

 account of his small size he never is very destructive even in parts of the 

 State where open corn cribs are used. 



" The nuthatch is an eminently useful and industrious bird. He 

 devotes his entire existence to the occupation of scrambling about upon 

 the tree trunks, grubbing out insects from their hiding places under the 

 bark. At this commendable, but somewhat prosaic, employment he spends 

 his days; and when night comes, he betakes himself to a hole in some tree, 

 where, weary with his day's toil, he sleeps the sleep of the just till day- 

 break; nor is our bird friend addicted to the disagreeable practice of early 

 rising. He depends not upon craftiness for his daily sustenance, but gets 

 it by the sweat of his brow; therefore he indulges in a morning nap after 

 the sun is up, and the nocturnal worm is permitted to crawl safely into his 

 den. Doubtless this interesting bird should commend our highest respect, 

 and our deepest gratitude; for his life is one of tireless industry and great 

 usefulness. Nor, indeed, should we question the personal motives which 

 impel him to the accomplishment of such important and valuable results. 



" Though the nuthatch does not possess the gift of song, still he is 

 well and favorably known to most persons who live in the country — 

 whose lines have fallen in pleasant places. He is found wherever there 

 are forests, and gets into our orchards and about our dwellings. Moving 

 steadily in any direction upon the tree trunks and branches, he searches 

 the interstices of the bark, tapping hard upon suspected spots with his 

 bill. At frequent intervals he utters his peculiar cry, a sort of nasal honk- 



