quency among the crows. A mediaeval 

 legend gives as the cause for this con- 

 formation of the bill and the red color of 

 the plumage that it was acquired "in rec- 

 ognition of the pity it bestowed on the 

 suffering Savior at the Crucifixion.'' 



Probably due to the nature of their 

 food, which can usually be procured in 

 any season, these birds are apparently not 

 under the control of the usual laws that 

 govern migration, but wander about in 

 a seemingly aimless manner and are not 

 influenced to any great extent by the 

 changing seasons. They do not seem to 

 be a constant inhabitant of any given lo- 

 cality for any length of time, but appear 

 and disappear as if constantly dissatis- 

 fied with their surroundings. 



The two sexes vary in color, the body 

 of the male beinga dull carmine-red, which 

 is brighter on the rump, and that of the 

 female is brownish, tinged with olive- 

 green and with brownish yellow on the 

 rump. The young males are similar in 

 color to the females, but pass through a 

 changeable plumage while maturing. 



The Crossbill usually builds its nest in 

 a cone-bearing tree and does not always 

 choose the most inconspicuous locality. 

 The nest is generally constructed of 

 rather coarse twigs and strips of birch or 

 cedar bark and lichens. This is lined 

 with hair, the softer fibers of bark, tine 

 rootlets, grass and feathers. The whole 

 nest is saucer-shaped and about four 

 inches in diameter, outside measurement, 

 by one and one-half in depth. Authorities 

 tell us that the eggs are usually three in 

 number. In color they are a pale blue, 

 nearly spotless at the smaller end, but at 

 the larger end marked with irregular 

 streaks or dots of lavender or reddish- 

 brown. The eggs are small, about eight- 

 tenths of an inch long by nearly six- 

 tenths in diameter. 



On account of their vagrant habits, 

 Dr. Brehm was wont to call them the 

 "Gypsies" among birds. While seeking 

 food or flying from place to place, they 

 continually utter a plaintive note and 

 their song is soft and sweet. 



THE LEGEND OF THE CROSSBILL. 



On the cross the dying Saviour 



Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm, 

 Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling 



In his pierced and bleeding palm. 



And by all the world forsaken, 



Sees he how with zealous care 

 At the ruthless nail of iron 



A little bird is striving there. 



Stained with blood and never tiring, 



With its beak it doth not cease, 

 From the cross 'twould free the Saviour, 



Its Creator's Son release. 



And the Saviour speaks in mildness: 



"Blest be thou of all the good! 

 Bear, as token of this moment, 



Marks of blood and holy rood!" 



And that bird is called the Crossbill; 



Covered all with blood so clear, 

 In the groves of pine it singeth 



Songs, like legends, strange to hear. 

 ■From the German of Julius Mosen, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 



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