BIRDS OF THE WEST 61 



wool, nor a phoebe bird's without moss, and the only time that 

 the great crested flycatcher's nests have been found without 

 cast-off snake skins in them, they had onion peels and fish scales 

 as substitutes. 



Probably there are no more indulgent parents than chipping 

 si^arrows. They would make you think that they feed each other if 

 you did not see the look of youth upon the face of the big booby bird 

 who opens his wide mouth to receive the crumb from his little 

 mother, and when she flies away for more, he tags on behind to be 

 sure of getting the next morsel that she finds, and he will coax 

 for it just as hard as a real boy will coax for a piece of bread and 

 butter. 



Every bird has a certain food which Nature has provided 

 and in the gathering of which it has become an adept. When 

 you first ate macaroni, you did not do it as an Italian would ; you 

 probably made a mess 'of it. So when a chippie eats moths, it is 

 in strong contrast to the phoebe. It had better stick to seeds and 

 crumbs if it cares at all for manners. 



The nest that holds the four dotted blue eggs of the chippie 

 is built very often in apple trees which are pretty high for spar- 

 rows, and chippie is the only sparrow that goes to the trees to 

 build his home and it is usually so far out among the leaves that 

 it is hardly visible, but the lazy eowbird finds it, the polygamous 

 loafer. 



FOX SPARROW. 



Arriving at the Milwaukee station a few days ago to meet 

 a train, I learned that it was twenty minutes late, so I slipped 

 across the track to the island to see and hear. At once I heard 

 the drumming of a hairy woodpecker who had found a very re- 

 sonant limb and he was sounding his love tattoo to a maiden of 

 his kind who very soon came fluttering to him. I saw the newly 

 sprouting gooseberry bush that last year was the home of my 

 yellow warbler; I noted that the redwinged blackbird had not 

 yet returned to claim the little circle of marsh near by. A 

 grackle and his mate spread their keel tails and sailed away from 

 me with a murmur of disapproval. A flicker watched me sus- 

 spieiously from a rotten tree and countless English sparrows 

 fluttered busily about. Soon a bird song burst upon my ear — a 



