DEESA UDUBONSB.ULIET IN 3| 
Our Robins at Christmas Time 
Every winter we have Robins in Florida, but this winter there 
are more than I have ever seen in previous years. Almost any time 
one can see flocks of a hundred or more flying overhead, and at morn- 
ing and evening the flocks are much larger. They seldom come to the 
ground for food, but feed largely upon the fruit of the cabbage pal- 
metto. This is a black berry-like fruit with a comparatively large 
seed. As the robins eat the outside flesh and reject the seed, the 
sound of the falling seeds on the palmetto leaves below is almost like 
the rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker. After the palmetto berries are 
gone, they eat the fruit of the Florida holly and follow that with the 
fruit of the Florida cedar. In the strawberry areas growers complain 
that the Robins eat their fruit, but in our place where there are wild 
fruits, our few cultivated fruits are seldom touched. 
This Christmas we had an unusually long severe cold spell, ané 
when on the first warm day Miss Mitchell and I walked down the 
driveway through the hammock, we saw such large flocks that we esti- 
mated we saw from three to five thousand. I said three thousand, 
Miss Mitchell said five thousand. The trees were full of them and 
flocks seen against the sky reminded me of swarms of bees. Mingled 
with their usual call, which is the same note we hear in the north 
when they congregate in the fall, was the springtime note of ‘“‘Cheer- 
i-up, cheer-i-up” as though they welcomed the warmth after the siege 
of cold. It is unusual to hear them really sing here, but the note was 
as tuneful and joyful as that we hear in Illinois when our first robins 
come home. 
LoTTA T. MELCHER. 
Bird Notes From Evanston 
Cardinals have come to be one of the best known birds in this 
vicinity, not only because of brilliant plumage and lovely whistled 
notes, but because they nest here from April to August, and since they 
do not migrate, add a flash of color to the winter landscape. 
Sunflower seeds, their favorite food, are provided for them at 
many feeding shelves, which they share with the familiar nuthatches, 
and an occasional Chickadee; where suet also is on the lunch counter, 
our other winter birds, the Downy Woodpecker and his big cousin, the 
Hairy Woodpecker, and sometimes the little Brown Creeper, join them 
to make up a hungry company. 
The English Sparrows, of course, eat more than their share, and 
when Starlings appear, as: they did on our own food counter Christ- 
mas morning, one’s hospitality is sorely tried. 
The Cardinal has already begun to whistle a bit since the turn of 
the year, and it will not be long before he is again paying court to the 
