Lane een Dt BOON BR UsEtL Ese IeN 9 
Unfortunately, about every four or five years we have a freeze 
accompanied by snow during the first week in April. This often kills a 
few broody females on the nests, and as many as 5,000 eggs are frozen in 
the nest boxes. After such a freeze the mothers desert their original nests, 
and about two to three weeks later they begin nest building again. This 
delay puts them in direct competition for nest sites with the house wrens. 
On such occasions I find dozens of complements of bluebird eggs pierced by 
the rabid wren busybodies. 
The new mother builds a flimsy nest of grass over the old nest and the 
old blue eggs often show through. In fact, the new eggs sometimes rest on 
or balance between the eggs of the former complement. On one such 
occasion two mothers laid eggs in the same second nest, one depositing five 
and the other four, a total of nine eggs. One mother deserted, so I adjusted 
matters by redistributing the four eggs in other nests containing smaller 
complements. In handling and making such adjustments, I have never had 
a desertion or other sign of material distress. 
In 1944 we had a year of blustery weather with shifting cold winds 
and rain. Unusual experiences were numerous that year. East and west 
exposure boxes with well-cleared drainage holes suffered little. An oc- 
casiona]l box facing ncrth or seuth in which dirt or nesting debris had 
filled the drainage outlet suffered. Water often blew into the entrance 
holes and would not drain. In several units I found dead birds. In one 
bex the birds were not old enough to fly. One sparsely feathered youngster 
had crawled out and had fallen to the ground. The parent birds were 
frantic. As I approached they attacked, darting at my head, snapping 
their bills. When the box was opened there was a stinking quagmire. 
One little bird was dead, several others were cold and wet. I lifted out 
the tiny sufferers, cleaned the box, rebuilt the nest by putting in a handful 
of dry dead blue grass which I pushed down in the center, returned the 
three baby birds and returned to my car. The mother entered the box. 
apparently gave no notice to the readjustment, but brooded, then later fed 
her babies, which quickly revived. A week later three banded babies took 
to the air. 
English sparrows will take possession of boxes placed too near barns 
or homes. In such cases I catch and kill the mother after dark, then burn 
the nesting material. I have been told that by catching her and cutting 
the tail feathers off short she will never molest a box again. 
Chickadees and titmice occasionally adopt boxes erected close to woods. 
They are welcome additions and every route includes several such nests 
each year. I am now erecting a six-sided box with a one inch hole. 
I round the bottom with papier-mache made by macerating newspaper in 
hot water, placing a spoonful of plaster of paris and, while it is yet plastic, 
rounding the surface. This has been particularly attractive to the 
blackeaps. 
Starlings have seldom molested the boxes. On one occasion a starling 
laid one egg among those of a bluebird. When I later opened the box to 
