General Notes, 
Taming a Chipping Sparrow ( Sfiizella socialis). — In the spring® of 1891 
a Chipping Sparrow built its nest in a honeysuckle vine which covers a 
stairway and balcony to my studio. It was begun while I was absent 
from home for a few days, and was on the railing just at the head of the 
stairs. I therefore avoided the balcony as much as possible until one egg 
was laid, using an inside entrance from the house. 
I then began the experiment of taming the birds, standing for long 
periods in the doorway until the mother bird would at last go back and 
forth quite freely to the nest, and would sit upon it while I was there, at 
a distance of perhaps four feet. 
Soon I tried sitting upon the top steps of the narrow stairs, which 
brought my head on a level with the nest, and it was not long before she 
also tolerated my presence there. I was so near that we sat and looked 
into each other’s eyes. 
to identify one of them, though I made advances to every ‘Chipping-bird’ 
I came upon, hoping to receive some sign of recognition. 
At the end of that time we had a succession of rainy days, and in one 
of them hearing a chattering going on outside my door, I looked out, and 
,n the balcony, in the pouring rain, sat side by side two fat ragged young 
Chippies, while the mother bir^ 'yen t busily from ere to the other, fee; — g 
them' with dry crumbs, which were not three feet away in the shelter of 
the door, where they could easily have helped themselves. 
That was the last I ever saw of them. But the nest remained and was 
still there the following February. There had been warm days which 
brought a few Bluebirds, but then followed a snow and ice storm which 
kept the trees and shrubs coated with ice for several days. We had watched 
a small flock of Bluebirds, in apparent distress, hovering about the house 
on one of the coldest of these days, and as night came on a number of 
them tried to find shelter under the eaves of my studio door, but flew away 
again. Just at sunset, however, one of them came back, and flew straight 
into the deserted nest! I watched until dark and he was still there, and I 
concluded that he spent the night. 
Last spring we noted an interesting instance of devotion in a mother 
bird to her young. A Least Flycatcher built its nest in a half dead apple 
tree in our dooryard. We had a very hot day when the birds were only a 
few days old, and there being no leaves to shelter them, they evidently 
suffered from the heat, their heads hanging from the nest. We noticed 
later that the mother bird had taken a position just above them, and with 
outstretched wings was trying to shield them from the sun. She regained 
there for fully two hours, not even leaving them to bring food. When 
we saw that she also was panting with the heat, we decided to come to 
the rescue, and hoisted with a rake a grain bag over the nest for an 
a waring. Immediately the male bird appeared, and both of them seemed 
to understand that all was well, and went busily to work catching insects 
for the young birds, who rapidly revived. — Amelia M. Watson, East 
Windsor Hill , Cl. ftrrir XI. July. 1894 P. 266-*'7 
33 
0 — returned ior three successive years, and each 
time raised two broods of young. Last year it failed to appear, so I 
suppose has lived out its little life. — Wirt Robinson, ist. Lt. 4 th U. S. 
Art., Washington Barracks , Washington , D. C. 
Auk XI. Oot. 1894 p. 828 
