BIRD PARADISE 47 



I have seen in the spring of the year the ground 

 in Bird Paradise literally covered with the birds 

 feeding. They were searching for the sprouting 

 beechnuts and my father's common expression 

 concerning their numbers was, " There are acres 

 of them there." One of our boyish pastimes 

 was startling the host by a sudden loud noise. 

 What a roar of wings followed, and what multi- 

 tudes of birds rushed to and fro, apparently wild 

 with fright. 



The flickers are busy with their peculiar kind of 

 nest building. One of the maples on my lawn 

 furnishes a large dead limb, which they examine 

 with the greatest care. Several years ago they 

 excavated a home there, and a family of sprightly 

 young birds graduated in due time from the cozy 

 spot. Every year since they gather there in 

 April, five or six of them, and spend a number 

 of days, talking and flying about, evidently 

 greatly in earnest. Sometimes it results in a pair 

 of them occupying the old mansion for the season. 

 At other times the result of the conclave is the 

 abandonment of the locality by all the birds. 

 Yesterday six of the fellows spent the entire day 

 going to and fro, busy every moment. From my 



