An old Norwegian nurse, knowing 

 that I was interested in bird life, told me 

 many years ago the interesting legend 

 of how the Crossbills obtained their pe- 

 culiar bills and red breasts. While the 

 Savior was suffering on the cross, these 

 birds taking pity on him, endeavored to 

 withdraw the cruel nails and in so doing 

 twisted their bills and stained their plum- 

 age with His sacred blood. 



Nearly all the northern countries of 

 the world have their species of Crossbills. 

 There are two species in North America 

 and in Europe two species of these birds 

 are quite common in the coniferous for- 

 ests of Germany and Switzerland. As 

 early as the year 1776, Mr. Thomas Pen- 

 nant mentions two varieties which he 

 calls the greater and the lesser. He also 

 noticed that these birds were inconstant 

 visitants in both Germany and Switzer- 

 land, and that they nested in the pine 

 forests, breeding as early as the months 

 of January and February. He also speaks 

 of their feeding on apples and states that 

 with one stroke of their bills they will 



divide an apple in order to obtain the 

 seeds. Many of his observations apply 

 equally well to the habits of the Cross- 

 bills of the present. They are fully as 

 erratic in their breeding hab'its as they 

 are in their migrations. They are known 

 to breed in mid-winter as well as in 

 early spring. Mr. Brewer speaks of a 

 nest of the American Red Crossbill 

 which was obtained at East Randolph, 

 Vermont, early in the month of March. 

 "The nest was built in the upper branch- 

 es of an elm, which, of course, was leaf- 

 less, the ground was covered with snow, 

 and the weather was severe. The birds 

 were very tame and fearless, refusing 

 to leave their eggs, and had to be several 

 times taken off by the hand. After the 

 nest had been taken and the collector was 

 descending with it in his hand, the fe- 

 male again resumed her place upon it, to 

 protect the eggs from the biting frost." 

 Like nearly all of our bird visitors from 

 the far north, the Crossbills, are gentle, 

 confiding and friendly birds. 



Frank A/[orley Woodruff. 



JUST RIGHT. 



Bob White is telling his wonderful love story 



Under the deep blue skies. 

 The stream is bending where willow's green glory 



Bends to the wind minstrelsies; 

 The shad bushes flutter their dainty white dresses 



Like spring maidens climbing the hills ; 

 The poppel-tree loosens her silver grey tresses 



Where, with flute-like cadenzas and trills 

 The brown thrasher brushes his wings through the bushes 



That border the trout brooks and rills. 



The dark, ragj^'ed alders are shaking and tossing 



Their yellow-brown curls in the breeze. 



The meadow-lark sings till his young heart seems breaking 



' For love, on the upland and leas. 

 The blackbird is bubbling and shaking his shoulders 

 To show off his epaulettes bright; 

 Catbirds are squalling. 

 Cuckoos are calling. 

 Everything seems "just right." 



— Belle A. Hitchcock. 



192 



