THE BIRDS OF THE CITY 



BY C. M. STORY. 



There are thousands of men and women 

 in our great American cities who are truly 

 lovers of birds, some few even going so 

 far as to declare their regard for that 

 saucy little chatterbox, the English spar- 

 row. Many of these city bird lovers are 

 writers whose notes on bird lore are rec- 

 ognized as authoritative and hailed with the 

 greatest pleasure by the others. Then why 

 is it that these people, in order to get notes 

 which are true to nature, must pack up, 

 and, so to speak, "str.ike for the tall tim- 

 ber"? To be sure there are birds in our 

 city parks, but only the few hardy speci- 

 mens that dare take up their domestic 

 cares amidst the steadily encroaching build- 

 ings of our cities. 



It seems almost time to make a plea 

 for bird life now, before all the truly syl- 

 van friends have abandoned their migra- 

 tions in our direction. Of course in a city 

 like New' York there is no way of remedy- 

 ing matters, and bird lovers must of neces- 

 sity go to the parks ; but what I desire to 

 emphasize is simply that in building up our 

 new towns, as we are constantly doing, ^as 

 the nation develops and expands, we should 

 give more space to bird life in general. 



If a good liberal margin was allowed in 

 our city streets and good sturdy trees 

 planted, as is being done now in so many 

 towns, bird life would receive a very de- 

 cided impetus rather than a check. Sup- 

 pose, even at the sacrifice of some of your 

 garden land, you should have several good 

 strong bushes and trees in your yard. The 

 pleasure one would get from communion 

 with the myriad birds which would become 

 his neighbors would be such, that the loss 

 would be counted as a decided 'gain. 



I remember a beautiful street in a little 

 Connecticut town which ran along a wood- 

 ed embankment overlooking a river. The 

 street was shaded by graceful elms, and 

 the Trees were alive with birds. Baltimore 

 orioles built their nests on the tender, 

 swaying twigs at the ends of the pliant 

 branches, almost within reach of your hand 

 from the second - floor windows of the 

 houses. One year the trees were literally 

 alive with rose-breasted grosbeaks. Their 

 clear, sweet, whistling warble gave good 

 cheer to the weary pedestrian and made 

 this street, to me at least, one of the most 

 delightful in the town. 



Some people may say that it is all. very 

 well for the country, but a commercial 

 center can not become a paradise. Of 

 course, this is in a measure true, but every 

 town has its days of infancy and every 



citizen can get his property cheap enough 

 then and thereafter do as he likes with it, 

 unless his greed for gold leads him to part 

 with it before he, can enjoy its benefits 

 from the standpoint of nature. 



The common varieties of bird life are 

 likely to become more and more domestic 

 as their natural surroundings vanish be- 

 fore civilization. There are also many va- 

 rieties which, although rather inclined to 

 solitude, have been driven of late to strin- 

 gent measures in raising their broods. 



Take, for instance, that very much be- 

 loved little bird, the house wren ; a type 

 of confiding faith in man, as the name sug- 

 gests. Formerly the little nest of sticks 

 and down was placed in a hole in some 

 tree in the woods, then in the apple or- 

 chards about the farms as the forests dis- 

 appeared, and now in hollow fence-rails, 

 and even in cubby-holes among the rafters 

 in old barns. Could there be a more point- 

 ed illustration of the way our bird life is 

 being crowded for its very existence? 



Bird life has many evils to contend with, 

 even under the most auspicious and natural 

 conditions, and it seems almost criminal to 

 augment the difficulty birds experience in 

 raising their young, by so limiting their 

 natural breeding places that they are 

 obliged to resort to dangerous nesting 

 sites. 



Along this line we can point an example 

 in the cases of several of our most useful 

 and attractive bird neighbors. 



Take, for instance, that confiding little 

 member of the fly-catcher family, the 

 phcebe. Formerly the bird's most common 

 nesting site was the upturned root of some 

 fallen tree near a rippling woodland brook. 

 The concealment was perfect and the nest- 

 ing material blended perfectly with the 

 surroundings. The danger from human in- 

 truders was minimized. The bird's very 

 confidence in man, however, proves its 

 great hindrance to its increase. Now we 

 find it frequently nesting in culverts and 

 bridges near our homes and as often on 

 the rafters of our barns and out-houses. 

 Very often mice and rats destroy the eggs, 

 and if the young are fortunate enough 

 to leave the egg and eventually the nest, 

 the cats and other animals kill them before 

 maturity. A peculiarity of the bird lies in 

 its persistent use of the identical locality, 

 and sometimes the same nest, year after 

 year. 



It certainly seems as if our songsters will 

 eventually fare like the American Indian 



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