Birds & Nature Magazine 



37 



No other member of my bird family is 

 so erratic in his coming and going as the 

 flicker. Only this morning I heard his 

 loud scream from a half dead tree at the 

 back fence. A downy woodpecker has 

 been busy all morning excavating a nest- 

 ing place in one of its branches, and I 

 presume the flicker came to drive him 

 away just for the amusement of it; and 

 what I heard was a shout of derisive 

 laughter at the ease with which the feat 

 w^as accomplished. 



The blueja}^ I have with me always. 

 There is not a month in the year that he 

 does not enter the yard. He gobbles up 

 my suet and nuts in winter; feeds from 

 the scrap pail and drinks from the water 

 pan in sum.mer; tries to steal the eggs from 

 the robin's nest in the silver maple ; and 

 takes his whole brood trooping across the 

 premises in early autumn. If his mate can 

 not find a better place she builds her nest 

 in the tree that overhangs my walk, and 

 expects me to guard her young from the 

 neighborhood cats w^hen, with short tails 

 and inadequate wings, they come bumping 

 upon the lawn from the nest. 



For real companionship the black- 

 capped chickadees are my favorites. They 

 seem to appreciate every billful that you 

 provide for them ; they do not scamper oil 

 as soon as spring arrives, but return oc- 

 casionally, not for food, but out of sheer 

 friendliness. They do not leave one until 

 household duties actually compel them to 

 woods or orchards. In the autumn they 

 bring their young to show how kindly the 

 season has dealt with them ; and the more 

 they bring the more you are pleased. 



When the house wren arrives, Dusiness 

 in the bird world seems to begin in earn- 

 est. Of course, it has been going on all 

 the time, but hardly with the proper eclat. 

 Upon the wren's arrival, steam seems to 

 be turned on ; the buzz of wheels seems to 

 be heard ; things move. Without my pair 

 of wrens, I should certainly think that 

 summer affairs in my back yard lacked 

 superintendence and push. I seem to feel 

 relieved when they come ; and when they 

 depart, an added responsibility seems to 

 rest upon my shoulders. — American Homes 

 and Gardens. 



A Rare Aztec Relic 



WHILE excavating on his ranch 

 in the Montezuma valley, near 

 Dolors, Thomas Elmer uncov- 

 ered what local experts declare to be one 

 of the rarest Aztec relics. 



It is a bird carved of stone and inlaid 

 with turquoise. The w^ngs are outspread 

 and inlaid with turquoise, as is also the 

 back of the bird. 



The stone from which the bird was 

 carved is hematite, a mineral of a high 

 degree of hardness. No other relic of such 

 artistic value has ever been discovered in 

 this section of the country, once inhabited 

 by the Aztecs. 



The relic is valued at $2,500. When 

 found it was in the mouth of a skeleton. 



A La Belle Etoile 



OH, who will lodge at my inn to- 

 night. 

 And live both fair and fine. 

 With a blossoming blackberry vine for a gate. 

 And a friendly star for a sign? 



Good sir, my inn is a gentle inn. 



The wine is sweet and old ; 

 'Tis Adam's, sir, with a fine bouquet. 



And the color of liquid gold. 



The carriages roll on the rocky road 



To a musty house afar ; 

 But the gentlefolk stop by the blackberry 

 gate, 



At the Inn of the Beautiful Star. 



Sweet fern, sweet fern for your pillow, sir, 

 And a quick-eared fawn for your mate. 



And a firefly's light for your candle bright — 

 Good sooth, we sleep in state. 



The winds go murmuring by at dusk 



And call you up at dawn. 

 To walk through the fairies' handkerchiefs 



And startle a sleeping fawn. 



When day is red on the river's bed. 

 And bright on quartz and spar. 



We'll say our short St. Martin's grace 

 At the Inn of the Beautiful Star. 



We'll wish you good luck from the black- 

 berry gate. 

 Although you wander far 



'Tis here that you'll come home at last, — 

 To our Inn of the Beautiful Star. 



— Sara Hamilton Birchall. 



