Nelson on Door-Yard Birds of the Far North. 5 
Golden-crowned Sparrows ( Zonotrichia coronata') and Gam- 
bel’s Finches claim their share of attention as they levy their tax 
upon the garden or flit from fence to fence, diving into the shelter 
of the weed patches on the first suspicious occurrence. The Fox- 
colored Sparrows return to take a short, though timid farewell 
before seeking winter quarters, followed by the Tree Sparrow. 
A stray Robin shows itself once or twice during the summer, 
but a single visit to the garden appears sufficient, and the solitary 
voyageur is seen no more. A few Olive-backed Thrushes flit 
silently about for a /day or two, and, if we are fortunate, we 
catch a glimpse of a rare visitant from Asia in the form of the 
Wheat-ear ( Saxicola cenanthe ) as it skulks around the end of 
the house and hastens to take shelter in the crevices among the 
rocks along the beach. I fear my thoughts are animated bv a 
spirit of destruction, when such a visitant as this or Kennicott’s 
Warbler is seen, which generally results in a tragedy in which 
the hapless little wanderer plays the part of victim. A few 
White-bellied Swallows fraternize with the Barn Swallows for 
a short time before leaving, the latter being now busily engaged 
in preparing their young for the long journey before them. 
At times a pair of Black-breasted Turnstones are caught in- 
vestigating the wet places about the houses, while the Semipal- 
mated Sandpiper is quite numerous. Adventurous individuals 
of the latter even pass under the fence to explore the yard after 
a rain-storm. Once I even caught a Golden Plover making 
itself free within the fence, but as I stepped out of the house it 
hastily retreated. 
The August moon rises, fills, and is on the wane ; the air 
becomes chilly ; one by one the sprightly forms, which, until now, 
have surrounded us with joyous life, slip away, so imperceptibly, 
however, that scarcely is one missed until we awake to the fact 
that of all the goodly company only a few stragglers remain. 
We may now look for a visit from one or two solitary Downy 
Woodpeckers, which, clinging pensively to the side of a log 
house, are evidently ruminating upon the strange phenomenon 
of barkless trees ranged in a series one over the other at right 
angles to the position in which experience has proven all prop- 
erly conducted trees should extend. With a parting tap to make 
sure his eyes have not been deceived, he relinquishes his hold 
and departs for the interior where primitive nature still holds 
undisputed sway. 
