The California Linnet 



that of a Cliff Swallow's nest containing three eggs of the owner and two 

 of the House Finch, it is perhaps as fair to assume that the finch attempted 

 to occupy the swallow's nest before the owner had begun laying, and was 

 driven out upon the Cliff Swallow's assumption of duty. In another, that 

 of an Arizona Hooded Oriole, the observer supposed that the finches had 

 driven off the rightful owner and had established themselves. A third 

 instance, of a Black Phoebe's nest containing five well incubated eggs of 

 the Phoebe and one partially incubated egg of the House Finch, we may 

 suppose either an unsuccessful attempt on the part of the House Finch 

 to take unlawful possession, or else a more fortuity, a "dropped" egg, 

 such as homeless females are occasionally guilty of. It is easy to see, 

 however, that temptation lurks along this path. The habits of this very 

 domestic bird will bear watching. 



Usually the nesting of the House Finch is a matter of unceasing 

 industry, two or three broods being raised each year. Tyler, however, 

 found a company of birds haunting a raisin warehouse in Fresno County, 

 which he was convinced did not breed at all during an entire season. 



The young birds are little tyrants, yet as "cunning" as they are 

 insatiable. They follow their parents about with importunate cries when 

 we would judge them fully able to care for themselves. But mother 

 doubtless knows best, and it certainly is a pretty sight to see a busy 

 mother stuffing food down the throat of a tremulous hobbledehoy who 

 looks at least half a size larger. And the youngster doesn't forget his 

 manners, either. If he does say "Please" pretty often and pretty em- 

 phatic, he also says "Thank you" all over, with quivering wings, which 

 to my notion are most expressive and grateful. 



And when the family life of the House Finch is merged in the greater 

 life of the flock, this charm of manner is not all forgotten. Though the 

 songs of springtime are hushed, the keep-in-touch notes are still cheerful 

 and friendly. And when a cloud rises, two or three thousand strong, 

 from a wayside weed-patch to settle on the telephone wires, the heart 

 of the passerby insensibly warms as he hears pleasant greetings and a 

 babel of polite discussion. Surely, these are amiable bird-folk, and we 

 may thank our lucky stars that California has bred gentlemen-commoners 

 instead of gibbering assassins. 



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