BIRDS OF ONE YEAR. 



On January I presented my double 

 with a square card marked Bird Cal- 

 endar and requested her to keep a record 

 for the year of all the birds she might 

 see and identify, and I promised to do 

 likewise. Thus we might have a little 

 friendly rivalry in getting the longer 

 list, thus adding zest to the pastime, 

 which is not lacking in interest by any 

 means, if one loves to walk in the fields 

 and woods, or listen to the songs of 

 our feathered friends. Our lists grew 

 apace even in winter. My double kept 

 her eyes open when riding and once saw 

 an owl and again a hawk. Then she 

 often reported starting up a flock of 

 partridges just beyond the garden wall, 

 but as soon as I reached the spot, wish- 

 ing so much to add one more to my list, 

 not a bird would be in sight. Even to 

 this day I have not been able to write 

 partridges on my card. 



Many would be surprised to know how 

 many winter birds there were around 

 us ; common ones, too, for not many rare 

 birds crossed our track. Tree sparrows 

 and jimcrows, cedar birds and the fami- 

 liar blue jays were seen until my rival 

 had a dozen on her list. That cheerful 

 companion, the chicadee, came to the 

 door for crumbs. As spring advanced 

 this bird deceived us by his plaintive 

 note of phoebe and when we thought 

 we had a new bird, the wood pewee, he 

 would follow it by his note day, day, 

 day. or the full chickadee, dee. 



Birds and interest increased after the 

 middle of March and names were added 

 faster to our lists. My double was 

 ahead where I fear she still will be at 

 the end of the year, but hope still urges 

 me on, and who can live without hope? 



There is as much pleasure in stalking 

 a bird as in stp^king larger game. One 

 morning I discovered the first gold- 

 finch in the elm tree and called at one 

 door for my double; at the same mo- 

 ment I heard her calling me at a second 

 door, to see a new bird. To our sur- 



prise we had our eyes on the same bird. 

 Or sometimes I would circle round a 

 large tree to watch a bird above me, and 

 suddenly meet my double doubling the 

 same tree after the same bird. So the 

 same name would go down at the same 

 moment. But it was not always so for, 

 sometimes I would take a walk by my- 

 self and come home exulting over a 

 brown creepers (a very rare bird to us), 

 or a flock of Maryland yellowthroats. 



In May, we heard an illustrated lec- 

 ture by the Audubon Society of Massa- 

 chusetts, which added to our zeal. We 

 had also a good bird-book to help us, 

 and our own eyes and ears. We found 

 that if we listened for the songs in our 

 dooryard and watched the trees, we saw 

 as many birds as if we took walks for 

 the express purpose of finding them. 

 For several weeks in the spring a flicker 

 would wake us early by his prolonged 

 notes, nick, nick, or quick, quick, quick, 

 and he was discovered on one of the tall 

 trees in the yard, but by the time we 

 were up and out, he would be gone or 

 just going, showing the yellow under his 

 wings and the great white spot on his 

 back. No endeavor to get near him to 

 see the mottled brown back and the red 

 spot on his head was successful. The 

 hairy and downy woodpeckers usually 

 linger long enough on a tree trunk to 

 give one a good view, and handsome 

 birds they are as they drum, their rat-a- 

 tat-tat. 



The bobolinks appeared and sang mer- 

 rily to us on a New Hampshire hill, and 

 the chebec, with his peculiar note, which 

 is the same as his name, was also there, 

 and the brown thrasher with his beauti- 

 ful song, and a black and white creeping 

 warbler. The warblers are striking 

 little birds with bright colors, but as it 

 rained so often we missed most of those 

 in May, the month thev pass us on their 

 way to the North. The sparrows are 

 almost as numerous as the warblers. 

 Who knows the tree sparrow from the 



24 



