BIRDS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 
167 
only an occasional “lift” from her loquacious lord. He would 
much rather mimic his fellows, including the postman’s whistle, 
than turn mechanic. And the parent birds make no secret of 
their intentions or achievements. It is not difficult to locate 
their nest. They will show you exactly where it is, screaming 
all the way. The nest itself cannot be termed a work of fine 
art, for it is loosely built of coarse material—^just whatever 
comes handy, grass and string and leaves. It is usually in a 
shrub or a low tree, the pepper or the peach or the Monterey 
cypress. They may build for successive years in the same 
locality, but not often in the same tree. The eggs are four in 
number, rarely five, a little smaller than a robin’s egg, bluish- 
green with brown freckles. It is seldom that more than two of 
the young reach maturity. From many broods watched we have 
concluded that if a pair of mockers succeed in rearing one out 
of the four that usually hatch they do very well. But they do 
not despair, for two or three broods in a season make some 
amends for disappointment. There are several reasons for 
this shortage. Bird fanciers employ boys to watch and capture 
the young as soon as hatched, as the mocker is more easily 
raised by hand than most birds. Not half the birds stolen by 
the boys, however, reach the fancier. They are experimented 
with on the way, lost, abused, and confined in too narrow 
limits. We boast of a law in favor of the song birds, but, 
alas, it is little operative. Another enemy of these birds is 
the cat. She is very fond of mocking bird, and may often be 
seen creeping through the garden shrubs to locate a nest. 
Little heaps of feathers here and there tell the story. 
As to food, the mocker, young or old, is not particular. He 
will relish almost anything—from pie and gingerbread to fruit 
and bugs (but not angle worms). If food is placed in a con¬ 
venient spot, the parent birds will bring their young as soon 
as they are able to fly and teach them to pick up the morsels. 
It is slow and tedious work, the art of teaching young mockers 
how to eat. Their appetite is keen, but the ability to help 
themselves is tardy in development. One needs no more en¬ 
tertaining company in a Southern California garden than a 
brood of young mockers just out of the nest. Their voices 
are coaxing and shrill. They cry constantly for food from 
dawn until dark. Occasionally one has the pleasure of seeing 
four birdlings near together, each leaning forward with flutter¬ 
ing wings and open mouth. Next day there are two in 
place of four, and the observer grows anxious. Then only 
one squeaks its hungry plaint, while, more than likely, by the 
third or fourth day, the parent birds sit mournfully on the 
nearest loquat and look reproachfully at space. 
Pasadena, Cal. 
