we will go no farther than we must, and 

 will return as soon as we can. We re- 

 member that last year in December 

 there was a spell warm enough for bugs 

 to creep out and we came back for a five 

 days' visit. We prefer to remain if we 

 can get a living." 



This started them all to talking, and 

 they had to be called to order. Singer 

 Bluebird said that he, like the Robins, 

 cannot do without his bugs and worms, 

 and must go where he can get them or 

 starve. 



Mf. Quail, who likes to be called Bob 

 White, said : "My dear plain little wife 

 and my children very much prefer bugs. 

 We are all so fond of them that' we relish 

 even potato beetles. Yet, in winter 

 time — unless they are covered by a deep 

 snow, we can find grains, weed seed and 

 other things which will keep us from 

 starving. In that case, we can go to the 

 poultry yard and eat with the chickens. 

 We fear freezing most. After all the 

 good work which we do for the farmer, 

 he might well afford to provide us a shel- 

 ter. But it is to be supposed that he 

 does not think of it. However, we will 

 risk staying here." 



Two chums, Mr. Crow Blackbird and 

 Mr. Red-Winged Blackbird, who had 

 been driven from a marshy place by Blue 

 Jay, sat side by side on the same limb 

 and were having fine sport making faces 

 and winking at each other while the 

 speeches were being made. Both can 

 help the farmer. Mr. C. Blackbird can 

 eat mice and the scattered corn kernels. 

 Mr. R. W. Blackbird can pick smart- 

 weed, ragweed and other weed seeds. 

 Yet both declared that they could not get 

 along without insects and they did not 

 mean to try. "Down south," said Mr. 

 R. W., "if insects are scarce, there are 

 plump rice kernels which taste better 

 than old weed seed." 



Up spoke Mr. Common Crow : "I 

 would not be so particular. I teach 

 my children to eat corn and mice 

 and we can find both around the corn- 

 crib. And we can always find a frozen 

 apple in the orchard, or some potatoes or 

 turnips in the garden, or a forgotten 

 pumpkin in the field. These taste very 

 good. If we are very hungry, we can 

 pick up dead rabbits and birds. We will 

 stay so as to be here when the farmer 



begins his spring work. We are not 

 afraid of his scarecrows. They never 

 hurt us. We help the farmer so much 

 that he will surely let us get a living 

 around the farm. He will never miss 

 what we eat." 



A pair of Turtle Doves on a limb of a 

 neighboring tree softly sang, "Coo, coo, 

 we will stay, too." 



There were several of the Wood- 

 peckers present. . The little black-and- 

 white one with red patches on the sides 

 of his neck, who is called Downy Wood- 

 pecker, tried to speak for the whole fam- 

 ily. We all must have our insects. God 

 has given us long, strong bills so that 

 we can peck holes into the wood in which 

 bugs and grubs are hidden. Sometimes 

 merely our tapping charms them so that 

 they crawl out for us. If they do not, 

 we can run out our long tongues and 

 catch those beyond the reach of our 

 bills." 



His big red-headed brother went on : 

 "Oh, yes ! we can find enough to eat. I 

 can leave the trees for hunting places for 

 the rest of the family. There is plenty 

 of food good enough for me in fence 

 posts and telegraph poles. Besides, I 

 can eat cedar berries, nuts and other 

 things. No need for me to go off on a 

 tramp in search of food. Ha, ha !" 

 chuckled he, "I have already begun to 

 lay aside for winter. You'll not catch 

 me starving here. I know just where to 

 find knot holes, cracks in railroad ties, 

 loose pieces of bark and loose shingles 

 on houses which hold a good supply of 

 beech nuts and acorns. If I find an 

 apple on the tree, I can bore into it for 

 the seeds. Then there are choice bits to 

 be found around the cow sheds and 

 barns. We have no thought of going 

 away." 



The pair of Turtle Doves nestled 

 closer together and again sang, "Coo, 

 coo — we will stay, too." Everybody 

 smiled at their loving peace of mind. 



"I have already begun to hollow out a 

 hole in a high tree for my winter home," 

 said Downy Woodpecker. 



"So have I," said the pretty Golden 

 Winged Woodpecker, who is nicknamed 

 High Hole ; "and it is in a place that just 

 suits me in the tip top of a very tall 

 tree." 



Mr. Nut Hatch rose to his feet. "I 



151 



