The Crow's nest is a substantial struc- 

 ture of bulky proportions. It is con- 

 structed with coarse sticks, woody vines, 

 strips of bark, dirt or mud, sods, dried 

 leaves, moss, grass, horse hair and other 

 similar materials that may be at hand. 

 Its form is that of a rather deep rounded 

 bowl which is lined with strips of fine 

 fibrous bark, hair, wool, twine and other 

 material of a soft nature. 



The Crows are quite omniverous, eat- 

 ing small mammals, reptiles, insects, fish, 

 carrion, grains and other seeds and 

 fruits. In fact they will eat almost any- 

 thing that is eaten by other birds. While 

 many of their habits are detrimental to 

 the interests of man it is still somewhat 

 doubtful whether they do more harm 

 than good. Mr. Amos W. Butler has 

 made a careful study of their food hab- 

 its. He says : ''Most persons are dis- 

 posed to note losses oftener and remem- 

 ber them longer than benefits. It (the 



Crow) is found to eat many insects. 

 May beetles, June bugs, and noxious 

 beetles, and quantities of them, are fed 

 to the young. Grasshoppers are eaten 

 all summer, but form the bulk of their 

 food in August. Besides these, many 

 bugs, caterpillars, cut-worms, spiders, 

 etc., are eaten. It is thought in the more 

 thickly settled portions of the country 

 that the Crow does more good than 

 harm, and if precautions are taken to 

 protect the nests and young poultry and 

 corn, its damage would not be of any 

 considerable consequence." Who has not 

 observed the Crows in the wake of the 

 plowman? There they devour quanti- 

 ties of worms, insects and vermin which 

 are exposed by the plow. The Crows 

 may be rascals, but we should not judge 

 them too harshly. We should, however, 

 protect ourselves from their ravages dur- 

 ing certain portions of the year, for at 

 other times they are useful birds. 



PUSSY WILLOWS. 



Downy prophecies of spring 



Welcome gift of vernal showers ; 



When the errant south- winds sing, 

 In our leafless northern bowers, 



Downy as the fledgling's wing, 

 Burst the Pussy-willow flowers. 



Listen then, in rural lanes, 



Snatches of the blue-bird's song! 



Swollen by the sudden rains. 

 Rush the little brooks along; 



And the robin's cheery strain, 



From the tree-top sonndeth strong. 



March has vanquished winter's snow. 

 Ushering in the leafy spring ; 



Summer green begins to show, 

 Clouds are soft upon the wing; 



Now we feel and learn to know 

 Why the birds so sweetly sing. 



-Charles F. Fudge. 



