them so near the house before, but one 

 cold January day a big fellow lighted 

 in the peach tree only twelve feet from 

 the kitchen window where I stood, an 

 hour at a time, watching my visitors. 

 He looked about a bit to investigate and 

 then seized a chunk of bread and 

 flew off to enjoy it or hide it, I did not 

 know which. But he did hide the stuff 

 many times. I caught him once ; but he 

 was followed by another and another 

 till there were four in the yard. They 

 seemed to wait for each other. I cannot 

 imagine why; only one came down at a 

 time, but the greedy bird would fill his 

 throat till he could not shut his bill, and 

 comical enough they all looked, with 

 mouths gaping wide. They provoked 

 our laughter, for they would try to car- 

 ry one more piece, even when they could 

 hardly hold on to what they had seized. 

 The snow was a foil to the vivid blue of 

 their coats, and set them off finely. I 

 used to fasten a large piece of fat to the 

 post before mentioned and one jay was 

 cunning enough to spy a big nail driven 

 in one side, where he used to perch and 

 very comfortably eat till driven off by 

 an envious companion who meant to 

 get his share. When the jays had their 

 turn and proper proportion, the back 

 door was opened and they took the hint 

 and retreated to the pine trees. Then 

 three chickadees had a taste by turns ; 

 then a junco arrived but was too bashful 

 to get more than a bite. 



One day a piece of fat was tied on the 

 side of the post opposite the nail — I in- 

 tended that the small birds only should 

 have this, but a jay came first and 

 lighted on top. He scented the fat of 

 course, and seemed surprised that he 

 couldn't get a bite but reach it he could 

 not and he flew off to the apple tree to 

 meditate. Evidently his motto in life 

 was, ''Try, try again," for back he came, 

 perched on that nail, reached around the 

 post halfway and straightway seized the 

 provision for the whole family, and away 

 he flew with his prize. He got the best 

 of his hostess and was welcome in return 

 for the fun he gave her. For a change 

 of diet an ear of corn was hung in the 

 tree and very welcome it was. If the 

 jay dropped a kernel in getting it off, 

 down he would drop, too, and seize it. 

 In the village ciglit or nine ears of corn 



were hung in a tree at once and twenty 

 jays assembled, a hungry crowd. 



A nuthatch came a few times for 

 crumbs ; this was the red-breasted nut- 

 hatch which winters with us and many 

 people do not notice it. This bird is 

 smaller than the common white-breasted 

 nuthatch and has reddish brown on its 

 breast, and a different voice from its 

 relative. 



The winter was so long that the 

 ground was covered with snow when 

 the first arrivals from warmer climes 

 reached Massachusetts. I wondered 

 where they could find seeds uncovered 

 and was hardly surprised to see three 

 or four song sparrows at my table. 

 They were its last but not least attrac- 

 tive guests, for who does not love their 

 musical voices, now in March singing 

 to us, "sweet, sweet, sweet, right merry 

 cheer?" They will continue all summer 

 and solace us in dark days no matter 

 how the wind blows or rain beats. 

 Blessed be the song sparrows! 



A neighbor told me that fox sparrows 

 came close to her door and ate the 

 crumbs and bird-seed she threw out. 

 Large flocks lingered with us nearly 

 three weeks on their journey to the 

 Northland and were delightful visitors, 

 with their whistling warble and bright 

 fox-colored backs and tails. The part- 

 ridges helped themselves to the buds on 

 our apple-trees right in sight of our 

 windows, and not many feet away from 

 the barn. The small birds would once 

 in a while drop into the barn floor and 

 pick up the oats lying loose. What the 

 crows live on has been a source of won- 

 derment for years. Is it frozen apples, 

 or. berries and seeds? They manage to 

 find rations without our help and it is 

 pleasant to hear even the caw of a crow 

 on a blustering winter day. 



I tried an experiment and set my table 

 in April to see if I could entice any bird 

 after the ground was brown and bare. 

 And sure enough, the chickadees and 

 downy were glad enough to see the fare 

 set forth and for several days came to 

 avail themselves of the offered dainty. 



Whoever desires entertainment for a 

 small effort, let him feed our winter 

 birds and thus save some wee lives and 

 find pleasure and amusement. 



Lucie A. Peabody. 



