Making Friends 
with the Birds 
SOME PERSONAL EXPERI¬ 
ENCES IN ATTRACTING 
EIRDS TO THE GARDEN — 
BIRD BATHS AND HOUSES 
1 KNOW of no bird more desirable about the house than our 
bluebird, unless possibly the phoebe, and the bluebird has the 
advantage of a caressing voice and warm, summery plumage. He 
as a true domestic bird, of the sunshine and apple blossoms; first 
to come to the orchard with glad voice in spring, and last to leave 
it with plaintive notes in the autumn. I would not willingly be 
without a pair of these gentle farm-lovers, and having had none 
about the place last year, I accordingly determined to set a lure 
for them this spring. 
March io was the first mild day of the year—a day the blue¬ 
birds had been waiting for—and in the stillness of the morning 
I heard their illusive calls. It is seldom that one sees the first 
bluebirds, and it is not for a week or two that they seem to be¬ 
come more substantial than a sound. Hoping to make my orchard 
attractive to them before they should all be settled elsewhere (and 
the bluebird is interested in nesting sites as soon as he comes), I 
put up a box for them in an old russet apple tree in the orchard. 
The box was some 7 inches in all dimen¬ 
sions, with its roof overhanging the en¬ 
trance to keep out rain and too much sun. 
I nailed it to the trunk about 10 feet up, 
and ran out a stick past the doorway to 
serve as a sort of step. These perch- 
fitted boxes are very enticing to birds, 
who find such arrangements a great im¬ 
provements upon knot-holes. In fact, I 
dare say the knot-hole will in time be¬ 
come as archaic for bluebirds as caves 
are for men. The pagan flickers, how¬ 
ever, still find tree-trunk cavities all that 
they aspire to. At this time a pair of 
these birds were already shouting and 
gesticulating in a nearby apple tree where 
they have nested for several years, faith¬ 
ful to their home-tree. 
Having built my house, which needed 
no further advertisement than its fitness, 
and having cleared away a limb of the 
tree so as to command the box from my 
study window, I awaited results with 
interest. For some time no bluebirds 
came actually into the orchard, and I be¬ 
gan to think that the house was destined 
to shelter nothing but spiders or English 
sparrows. But on the first of April I 
heard a voluble warbling from the old russet and looked to see 
a male bluebird on the perch at the box. He sat twittering and 
whistling in a continuous and coaxing manner, now and then 
hopping to the doorway, disappearing within, and immediately 
reappearing. He showed the most prodigious pleasure at his 
discovery. For a time I thought him alone, but presently caught 
a soft note in reply from another tree, and soon the female (for 
it was she) flew coyly into the top branches of the russet, where, 
however, she steadfastly remained. Warble and urge as he might, 
beckon and argue as he might, the male could not get his mate to 
inspect the box. Apparently, let her consent, and the house was 
taken. But whether her silence meant consent, or whether she 
thought it was a little early in the season to undertake domestic 
duties, or how matters stood, I could not determine, and the pair 
flew off after a time. But both were, it seemed, impressed with 
the domicile, for they were back the following day, and this time 
I saw the female cautiously examining possibilities within. 
They flew about the orchard, too, with something like an air 
of proprietorship, and when a house 
sparrow appeared near the box she was 
quickly routed from the vicinity. But 
the pair finally flew off as before. Only 
the male appeared, once or twice, in the 
next two days. Where, in the mean¬ 
time, was his mate? Perhaps she had 
found a home that she liked better, 
whilst the mate held out for this one, and 
came alone to contemplate its virtues. 
Whatever had caused her absence, how¬ 
ever, the female returned after several 
days, and for a week or two the pair 
loitered about the orchard, coming and 
going abruptly, leading a sort of idyllic 
existence. They seemed decided upon 
the house, but in no hurry to set about 
furnishing it, and indulged in such unac¬ 
countably long absences that I half 
thought they had given it up. 
But after the middle of the month they 
undertook their nesting in earnest. I be¬ 
gan to see the female go silently and 
stealthily in and out of the box, chiefly in 
the early morning, whilst her mate kept 
up his happy warbling encouragement. 
I wondered how she would make habit¬ 
able the dwelling, so I examined it on 
April 30. “The birds,” I made note at the time, “are frequently 
away from the orchard, as was the case when I climbed up to¬ 
day. I was surprised to find that so much had been accomplished. 
The whole box was evenly filled up nearly to a level with the 
doorway with pine needles and a few dry grasses. A sweet- 
odored home, this! Into this mass of needles, at the back of the 
box, a feather-lined cup was sunk, which was the nest proper — 
the receptacle for the eggs.” 
Four eggs were now laid, one each day, and from musical ap¬ 
proval it became the male’s duty to bring food to the sitting fe¬ 
male. I saw him often carrying succulent morsels to the door- 
An attractive concrete bird bath, which is also a garden 
ornament 
27 
