1892
July 1
(No 2)
[margin]Young Flickers in nest[/margin]
Concord, Massachusetts.
Mass.
Concord.- Their [delete]bills[/delete] upper mandibles are still tipped with the white,
porcelain-like spine which enabled them to chip their way
out of the egg. When does this fall off? ※[reference mark] [delete]When[/delete] If I shake
the stump or make a scratching sound, as of the parent
bird's claws, on the bark the young burst forth at
once into a chorus of hungry cries which they keep up
for a minute or more. On June 23rd when the young
were naked and blind and probably not more than
three or four days old this noise was low and hissing;
now it is so loud as to be distinctly audible 30 yds.
away and reminds me forcibly of the clatter of a
moving machine. There have been several long, cold
and very heavy rain storms since this stump was broken
off. One was on the afternoon of the 23rd when I found
the young Woodpeckers wet & shining with cold.
[margin] ※[reference mark] On taking out one of these young, July 3rd,
I find that the tip of the bill is absolutely
smooth & that the white is merely a patch
of color under the covering of the bill or perhaps
in this covering. The tomia are also whitish.
All five young have blackish mustache stripes
paler in two (probably females) birds than in the
other three.[/margin]

  3 P.M. Sailing slowly down river past Hunt's Pond. It
is cloudy with light rain & a soft S.W. wind. Song Sparrows,
Red-wings, Bobolinks and a Least Flycatcher singing freely.
Now a Meadow Lark in the distance! The Cuckoos are
much more silent than they were a week ago but I heard two
of each species. Yellow Warblers are lapsing into the listless,
warbling summer song. I hear these males on my way
to Ball's Hill, a small number. The Bobolinks still sing
the full June song and they sing freely, at least now
in this soft rain. Now a Robin sings and two Cedar
Birds fly one zeeing softly. A Flicker laughs in the
distance and one, very near me, in a maple over the
water, answers and then calls wìck-up, wìck-up
with great distinctness. Young Red-wings flutter up
from the reeds and button bushes as I pass, three
young King Birds [delete]stand[/delete] nearly ready to fly stand next
[margin]An afternoon
on the river
(written in
my canoe)[/margin]