1030 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[JUNE 30, 1906. 

June Birds’ Nests. 
East WarEHAM, Mass., June 3—Editor Forest 
and Stream: Some forty years ago, in the sixties, 
when I was a boy of twelve, I “began the study 
of birds. Like most boys, I was much interested 
in their nesting jor ‘and in the great problem 
of bird architecture as well as in collecting 
specimens. For ten years I gave all my spare 
time in the nesting season to this favorite pur- 
suit, keeping notes and memoranda of each col- 
lecting trip. After becoming of age, my time 
was taken up with more serious affairs; the love 
for birds remained, but the opportunities for 
their study came but seldom. 
To-day, feeling somewhat of the old fever, I 
asked my son to take a short walk and see what 
birds were nesting about our home. It may be 
said in passing that we are short on species right 
at this point. Birds which should breed here, 
and do breed within ten miles, are almost un- 
known to us. It may be that the deep indenture 
of Buzzard’s Bay, at the head of which we are 
situated, has something to do with it. The Eng- 
lish sparrow is, no doubt, responsible for the 
purple martin’s ‘absence. We seem to have but 
two swallows—barn and white bellied. The cliff 
swallow has gone with the destruction of the 
large train sheds at Bourne, for they used to 
build in the old railroad station there. The bank 
swallow used to breed in some sand cliffs along 
the Onset Bay shore, but the influx of summer 
residents has driven them away. We have seen 
a few swifts this spring. No night hawks for two 
seasons; never a wren or bobolink, so far as we 
know; and the same may be said of many other 
birds that should be common, Starting out with 
the Brook swamp for our objective point, we 
make quite a circle, taking in all the nests we 
have already found, and looking for more. 
The first nest belongs to our tenants, the white- 
bellied swallows. - For nine years a pair have 
utilized a box in the barn gable, which is reached 
through an auger hole. That the present occu- 
pants are the original pair is very doubtful. It is 
also singular that, while there are two apartments 
and two apertures to the box, one side was never 
used until this season: We think the other side 
became filled with nesting material, and did not 
give them enough room to work in. The birds 
seem to have an idea that quantity is an essential 
feature of a proper nest, and will carry in an 
‘immense amount of material if there is a place 
to put it. These tenants arrived April 7. They 
were about a week late. 
The second nest is not yet finished, and when 
done will be inaccessible to us. It is of the 
familiar old stocking type, and is the property 
of Mr. and Mrs. Oriole. They have not failed to 
use one of the two silver maples in our front 
yard. These birds came on May 13, about the 
time the yellow flowering currant blooms, the 
flowers of which seem to have a great attraction 
for them. Both birds would sit in the currant 
bush and take the blossoms in their bills, and 
seemed to extract something—insects, perhaps— 
from them. Beautiful, pleasant-voiced and bene- 
ficial, the orioles should always be encouraged 
to remain with us. 
The third nest is in the largest of our two 
apple trees; it occupies a cavity reached through 
a tiny hole, and belongs to a black-capped tit- 
mouse, or chickadee. The titmice are residents, 
and are very cheerful and happy at all times. 
We encourage their presence in the fall and 
winter with sunflower heads and suet, the first on 
their own stalks in the garden, the last tacked up 
out of pussy’s reach where the birds can find it. 
This they soon do, and other birds come to 
share it with them. The chickadees commenced 
their operations some three weeks ago and 
the little mother is sitting. We were working 
under and near this tree all the time the little 
architect was clearing out her domicile, and 
could watch her quite closely. She could make 
about three trips in five minutes, and did not 
drop her waste material near the tree, but fiew 
to a cherry standing over in the swamp, perhaps 
two reds away, and wiped her beak on its twigs 
and then came back. The entrance is about five 
feet from the ground, just right to look into: 
she did not seem to mind our presence and kept 
at work even when we were within a few feet of 

her. She would work steadily for a while and 
then go off for some hours. We did not see her 
carrving in the nesting materials, but she filled 
the cavity nearly up, so we can now see her 
little black and white face, and by placing an 
ear to the hole and tapping on the tree, a decided 
objection can be heard. The number of eggs 
is a matter for conjecture, but, as chickadees are 
liberal, we may expect eight or ten little birds. 
The fourth nest is ona “limb of the same tree. 
It is made of fine straws and grass roots. The 
roots are tough and at, the same time pliable, 
and readily take the shape desired. A quantity 
of dry sod was shaken to pieces and piled up 
dvring our gardening, and the birds appropriated 
it ex masse; all came for it and carried off whole 
hunks at a time. This nest belongs to Mrs. 
Chippy, and has a fine soft lining of hairs; hence 
the name hair sparrow. The little mother and 
her mate are very tame, and run around our feet 
almost. They seem to find small insects among 
the plants and on the ground and are very bene- 
ficial birds. Another pair have a nest in a small 
pine just over the fence. These last have four 
young birds whose eyes are not yet open; never- 
theless, they have grown to nearly fill their cradle. 
Like all altrices, they are at first helpless and 
homely, not quite so ‘ungainly and hopeless- look- 
ing as young woodpeckers, who certainly require 
the darkness and seclusion of their cell-like 
birthplace. While the chipping sparrow, field 
sparrow, song and swamp sparrows are seem- 
ingly as plentiful as ever, will someone arise and 
tell us why the bay- winged and savannah 
sparrows are so rare? We have not heard the 
vesper song of bay-winged sparrows this spring. 
The chippys came in early April. 
The fifth nest is in the top of the second apple 
tree. It is made of coarser materials, with a lot 
of dry roots worked in, and is possibly lined with 
feathers. It is the property of a pair of king- 
birds, and was almost blown from its founda- 
tion by a recent gale. It got a list to one side, 
but the owners built it up level. Kingbirds are 
always welcomed by the farmer and poultry-man, 
because they make it so lively for stray hawks 
and crows. They do not bother the cushas 
(green herons) that are continually flying back 
aid forth over our place as they travel from 
the pond to the creek. How many people know, 
or better said, how few know, of the flame- 
colored tufts of tiny feathers that the kingbird 
bears on his crown. The bird must be held in 
hand to see them. Is Circe responsibe for these 
feathers as well as for the red crest of Picas? 
Did they once have a use? Perhaps there is a 
reason. That lazy fish, Lophius, has an attrac- 
tion on his head that interests small fishes and 
lures them within reach of his steel- -trap jaws. 
Perhaps the red feathers sometime in the far 
hack were on the head of an ancestor of Tyr- 
annus. who could not fly with any grace and 
had to decoy insects within his reach. 
The Iengbirds build a good-sized, well-con- 
structed nest, and their clay-cream colored eggs, 
with black over lilac markings, are very pretty. 
These birds arrived May 4. 
The sixth nest is in the top of a thick currant 
bush, and is of the same general construction 
as most sparrows’ nests, and belongs to a pair 
of song sparrows. They, too, used a good share 
of dried fibrous roots and grapevine bark, as 
well as some white twine that had been strung 
up to keep away crows and hawks. This nest is 
invisible until the leaves are pulled aside, and 
contains its full complement of five tinted eggs 
with cinnamon-colored spots, which, at the large 
aS are confluent, making a brown patch. These 
ges are not quite so covered with spots as the 
eggs of their near relative, the swamp sparrow. 
The nests of both species are quite similar and 
are well built, standing the wear and tear of a 
whole year, but are only used once. This par- 
ticular nest has a thick cushion of black horse- 
hair for the eggs to rest on. Melodia sometimes 
builds her nest on the ground, and likes a loca- 
tion in the meadow on the bank of a ditch where 
blackberry vines grow. They are early arrivals, 
and some seem to spend the winter. All are 
cheerful, lovable birds. 
Just over the garden fence, in a field that is 
fast growing up .with small pines, we started 
a bird which flew so low and disappeared so 
_ road, 
quickly that we were not able to tell its name. 
Her nest was under a fallen limb, and was un- 
usually small and slightly built for a sparrow. It 
comained four semi-ovate, flesh-white, lrowin- 
spotted eggs, and belonged to a ground robin or 
chewink. This is the largest sparrow that breeds 
with us, and one of the most attractive looking. 
The nest was merely a depression filled with pine 
leaves, nicely fitted to accommodate the bird; a 
few stalks of flyaway were arranged to screen 
the contents from too plain exposure. What boy 
does not recollect this insinuating grass, with its 
habit of crawling up one’s trouser legs on the in- 
side? How many of us, when bare- footed boys 
and running across the fields, have had to reach 
into our waist bands and pull out the annoying 
stall, 
The chewinks came May 2. 
The sparrows form a very large, interesting, 
and often sweet-singing, but generally humble, 
class of birds. There are some exceptions, like 
the present species, where the male is gaily 
dressed. The allied grosbeaks are beautiful 
birds, so are the purple and lazuli finches, the 
indigo and. painted buntings. 
Our eighth nest is about five feet from the 
ground, in a_ thick hedge of bushes, intertwined 
with cat briars, and belongs to a cat-bird. It is 
built strongly of twigs, briars, dead leaves, grape 
vine bark and grasses and lined with dark fibrous 
roots. It contains four rather longish, ,deep 
black-green eggs, and has a fine canopy of briar 
vines overhead. It is in a well-chosen spot for 
Mrs. Mimus. She was a late comer, arriving 
May 7. 
Our ninth find was rather an unusual variety, 
and was placed in the sand at the end of a well- 
defined broad crawl; it contained 42 eggs, each 
round and white, with a tough shell, showing a 
slight dent, as though not quite filled. This 
mother we ‘did not see; she has no father’s care 
for her nest and will never know her own off- 
spring. Pugnacious and intrepid, a nearby pond 
is her home, and her ugly head, with its strong 
jaws, is occasionally seen. In June the snapping 
turtle comes out, and finding a suitable place— 
generally a sand bank—begins to excavate a hole; 
holding herself up by her fore legs and helped 
by the slope, she uses her hind feet one at a time 
and digs a hole a foot deep. In this she deposits 
her eggs and presses them in tightly; she then 
covers all and packs the earth so carefully that 
the exact spot where her deposit lies is not 
easily seen. This done to her satisfaction, she 
wastes no further time and returns to the water. 
We have no fancy for the presence of mud 
turtles in our duck pond, and once before inter- 
fered with probably this same one. We moved 
these eggs into another place. 
We climb a stone wall and are in the highway; 
this is a shady country lane, almost ideal, and 
follows the margin of a pond for a few rods. 
The water is high and fills the banks, which are 
surrounded on three sides by fields; on the fourth 
a swamp drains into it, and the tall oaks and 
maples are beautifully reflected. Around the 
edge is a margin of bushes—alder, swamp huckle- 
berry, swamp azalia, birch and soft maple. An 
old wall is built out into the water and makes a 
corner where some riparian Owner once watered 
his stock. These stones are a favorite resting 
spot for birds, and in times past here> we 
have noted the great blue heron (“harn’), night 
heron (‘‘quank’’), bittern (“‘poke”’), green heron 
(“cusha”’), kingfisher, solitary sandpiper, golden- 
eye duck, dusky duck and red-breasted mergan- 
ser. The fringe of bushes is a fine place for 
birds, especially warblers and vireos, and one- 
tenth of the nests are found right alongside the 
so near it could be examined from a car- 
riage. The sitting bird leaves reluctantly, flying 
only at the last moment. Her nest contains five 
greenish-tinted, black spotted eggs, and belongs 
to a yellow warbler. It is neatly built of various 
soft grasses, paper, lint from plants and fine 
ravelings. It is well placed in the forks of a 
small bush, where four limbs divide the stem. 
This species always chooses a good foundation, 
where her structure will withstand the fiercest 
storms. A sample of their work was shown in 
a recent issue of ForEStT AND STREAM, which illus- 
trated the successful attempt of the maker to rid 
Continued on pages to18 and 1021. 
