POKING AROUND FOR BIRDS' NESTS 125 



ist, whose observations are random and unclassified 

 — who, indeed, is less of a naturalist than an idle 

 lover of nature — to say a few words in description 

 and praise of the fascinating pastime of birdnesting, 

 with a note-book, as it were, instead of a box of 

 cotton. 



In the town where I recently lived, in western 

 Massachusetts, William Brewster, the ornithologist, 

 during several summer visits, noted ninety-one vari- 

 eties of birds, all but eleven of which conceivably 

 might, and probably did, nest there. Ralph Hoff- 

 mann, in a more detailed study, has noted in that 

 single township, during the entire year, one hun- 

 dred and fifty varieties, nine resident for all twelve 

 months, ten winter visitants, thirty-five migrants, 

 and ninety-six summer residents. That would 

 make a total of one hundred and five possible varie- 

 ties of nests for the hunter to find — no mean quarry 

 — and few enough are the people who could say 

 they have seen them all, though not as few, per- 

 haps, as the people who could identify each of the 

 hundred and five if they did find them! But no 

 one need be discouraged by the magnitude of the 

 task, because the essence of amateur birdnesting 

 is not to achieve a card-catalogue knowledge, but 

 is rather a lazy, humorously human enjoyment of 

 what may chance on a May or June afternoon, 

 when the bobolinks sing in the meadows, or the 

 busy wrens go chattering about their house-building 

 in the garden bird-box, or the mother partridge in 

 the woods seeks by every artful device to lure you 

 from your quest. 



To me, the birds' nests are not scientifically di- 



