Tite. AUDUBON BULLETIN 47 
Poor Robin Redbreast had her usual grief again this season. Lost her 
first brood by a night prowler. Reconstructed the nest and raised three. 
Built nest in apple tree at end of porch. Deserted it. Built in tree near 
poultry house. Deserted it. I am confident the House Wren punctured 
the eggs. Next season the wren boxes come down. [I had his case under 
consideration all winter, but his early April song won his case. But he 
is a grand rascal, yet I love the little devil. By the way, the Wrens have 
young. Really I should kill em, but I haven’t the ’art, no I haven’t the 
bart: 
Humming birds are attracted by the hollyhocks and make frequent 
visits. I wish I had an airship of sufficient speed to follow them to their 
nest, for my desire has been to find one. 
Several weeks ago I found a hawk’s nest in our woods. The old birds 
were never in repose long enough for me to get any markings, in fact, I 
never saw them alight. However, I knew it was a bird I had never seen © 
before as their call was constant and very peculiar. Blake came up 
yesterday so I led him to my find. We could see a fledgling on the edge 
of the nest. Blake says they are Pigeon Hawks and I cannot disprove 
that they are not. 
The Goldfinches sway on my beet tops while they fill their little 
golden stomachs with the foliage. 
Catbirds are nesting in the elderberry clump down the road. Morning 
and evening they visit the bath and pay for their “scrub” with de- 
lightful song. He is one of my favorites. Natty dresser, friendly, and 
it is to be regretted that one discordant note should have got cat for a 
moniker. 
The King Bird is about the premises a good part of the time. I do 
not think he is nesting here, but not far away. Perched on a dead limb 
he has an unobstructed view. Along comes a flock of Blackbirds headed 
for the low lands near the lake. King says “I guess I’ll go up and punch 
one of their faces.”” He:does. Spies Robin and reasons-she is having too 
good a time and concludes to go down and mess her up. He does. 
Observes a crow and decides to pester him awhile. He does. ‘This 
Barn Swallow is exceeding the speed limit. Guess I'll stop him.” He 
does not. As he strikes the Swallow the latter lets out a yell similar to 
“Hey rube!” of circus days, and within a few seconds about forty of his 
kin arrive and King gets a good sound drubbing. 
The Robin is the long distance singer. The other morning I heard him 
greet the day with song at 3:20. His good night carol was at 8:15. 
The Baltimore Oriole has constructed a much deeper nest than usual. 
In previous years she toted away my twine a piece at a time, while this 
time she carried several strands. While she is incubating he sings, but 
rarely and only occasionally do I see a streak of gold and black announc- 
ing his presence. 
The hay is cut fifteen days earlier than last year, and I fear it de- 
