IN BERKSHIRE FIELDS 



the balance in nature between destructive insects 

 and growing things, between weeds and flowers, and 

 any serious diminution in our bird population 

 means a serious increase in the ranks of our insect 

 and vegetable foes. The birds are among our best 

 and most valuable friends, while the cat, artificially 

 bred and introduced, does not belong to the natural 

 scheme of things. A bluebird, a barn-swallow, a 

 screech-owl, even a so-called "hen-hawk" (which 

 scarcely touches hens at all) has a definite economic 

 value, and its protection by man from cats and 

 other hunters, on four legs or two, from storms and 

 starvation, is as useful, and some day we shall 

 realize as necessary, as catching rats in the barn 

 or spraying the potato-vines. Indeed, if every 

 potato-field could harbor a bevy of quail (and it 

 could if we had not been such game-hogs in America 

 for a hundred years) there would be little call for 

 Paris green or arsenate of lead. 



Again let us quote figures. There are plenty 

 of them. The appeal to sentiment in order to 

 save the birds is not necessary. The matter can 

 be reduced to a cold business proposition for the 

 farmer, or for anybody else with trees and a 

 garden. 



In Farmers' Bulletin No. 513, prepared by the 

 United States Bureau of Biological Survey, it is 

 stated that at a conservative estimate the common 

 tree-sparrow consumes a quarter of an ounce of 

 weed seeds a day. On this basis, in the state of 

 Iowa alone, the bureau estimates these sparrows 

 consume 875 tons of weed seeds. If you will try 

 to imagine the acres upon acres which could be 



