BIRD BATHS IN WINTER. 



While strolling through the orchard 

 one day I came across a novel scene in 

 birddom, a band of tufted titmice and 

 tree sparrows in the act of taking a win- 

 ter bath. It was the eleventh of March 

 and there had been snow and sleet the 

 day before, but the morning's sun had 

 melted it. A slight depression in the 

 surface of the ground had collected suf- 

 ficient water to form a shallow pool, and 

 this was the watering place. 



This incident occurred about one o'clock 

 and I happened on the scene just in time. 

 A small party of tufted titmice and tree 

 sparrows were congregated about the 

 pool preparatory to a dip. Three titmice 

 made the first move, yet seemed loath to 

 plunge into the chilly water. Indeed 

 their reluctance reminded me very much 

 of a child that dreads its bath. Hopping 

 cautiously along the edge of the water 

 and chirping querulously the while, they 

 finally overcame their aversion and waded 

 boldly out to the center of the pool and 

 began their ablutions. Apparently after 

 the first plunge they enjoyed their bath, 

 in spite of the chilliness. This tempting 

 sight seemed to cause the tree sparrows 

 to follow the tits' example, for they 

 joined them in the water, and then such 

 splashing and throwing of water right 

 and left! After a few moments, all took 

 flight to the apple trees to drv themselves 

 in the sun, and with manv vigorous 



shakes and preening of feathers their toi- 

 lets were finally completed. 



I witnessed another bird bath even 

 more entertaining on account of the en- 

 vironment. It is my custom to spread 

 a daily feast for my feathered friends in 

 a place that commands a ready view from 

 my window. This second bath took place 

 at the feeding grounds the day before 

 Christmas eve of the present winter. 

 There was several inches of snow on the 

 ground and the mercury had reached 

 twenty degrees below zero only three 

 days before, but now it was thawing and 

 water was standing in sheltered places 

 that had received only a light snowfall. 

 Miniature pools had formed at the bases 

 of the trees and shrubs in the yard, and 

 were being utilized by tree sparrows and 

 j uncos for bathing places, and while these 

 hardy little creatures were taking their 

 cold plunges, apparently without a shiver, 

 others of their kind, in coqipany with 

 three goldfinches and a pair of cardinal 

 grosbeaks, were partaking of the noonday 

 spread under a maple tree : a downy 

 woodpecker was diligently inspecting the 

 bole of the tree, and merry-hearted chick- 

 adees were performing acrobatic feats 

 among the branches above. All in all, it 

 was a most beautiful and animated scene 

 amid the snowy surroundings and will 

 not soon be forgotten. 



Ann;ii L. Booker. 



THE OLD BLUE CRANE. 



Grotesque and tall he stands erect 



Where the reed-riffle swirls and gleams 



Grave, melancholy, circumspect, 

 A hermit of the streams. 



Ernest M'Gaffey. 



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