10 THe” A UD UBIO N: £B Ue ier 
which no program is complete; to silver notes of the field sparrow, and the 
insistent chipping of their small cousin. A group of goldfinches gave us the 
violin-like music; towhees took part, and many warbling wrens. 
The woodpecker family was well represented, too, while beneath them, 
on tree trunks, were white-breasted nuthatches and black and white warblers. 
The wood thrushes still fluted sweetly from time to time, “Come to pray, 
come to sing,’ sometimes adding a lovely harp-like arpeggio. 
The admonition was no longer necessary, for almost every family in the 
dune-land was represented, and strange to say, by the males, a unique con- 
gregation, — and at an afternoon service, too! 
A tufted titmouse called for ‘‘Peter” repeatedly, and we could not tell 
whether or not he came; but of one thing we were sure, the insistent call for 
“Phoe-be” to attend vespers, brought no response. Perhaps she was too busy 
with family cares in the bridge home. 
Many kingbirds were there, but took no active part in the singing; even 
when they fiew from the fence after a passing insect they returned so quietly 
and so quickly to their seats that no one was disturbed. 
We thought the program at an end when the field sparrow had given a 
second hymn, but from a gnarled apple tree a sudden single note like a 
golden blast from a trombone — Attention! Our pew was almost over- 
turned, so startled were we. In breathless expectation we reseated ourselves, 
but not another note from our oriole, as he flew to another tree, resplendent 
in the orange and black livery of Lord Baltimore. The conductor, whoever 
he was, had evidently planned this dramatic coup as a herald for a large 
group of white crown sparrows, which instantly appeared, — very chic, 
carrying their heads, in striped white and black caps, with most aristocratic 
airs. : 
The closing hymn of vespers was begun; a long note first — “My faith 
looks up to Thee.” This refrain was taken up by many of the white crowned 
group, from the ground, fence and brush. The outdoor chapel was fragrant 
with the incense of apple blossoms, and was filled with the purity, sweetness, 
and reverence of the closing hymn of the white crowns. 
Vespers were over. Quietly the congregation flew away; singly, in pairs, 
in groups, as they had come, and we'‘walked silently homeward, on the 
Sunset Trail. 
From Birds and Blossoms, copyrighted 1925, by Mrs. Arthur B. Cody 
a Ff 
The Problem of the Cat 
By MARGARET MorsSE NICE 
A RECENT LETTER to the Chicago Sun minimizes the part played by cats in 
the destruction of birds. The best authority on this subject is Edward H. 
Forbush’s “The Domestic Cat: Bird Killer, Mouser and Destroyer of Wild 
Life,” published by the Massachusetts State Board of Agriculture. This 
eminent ornithologist wrote of the cat: 
“Tt has disturbed the biological balance and has become a destructive 
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