Tate toes. WU UeU) be ON BU) Lili me oy N 7 
Mocking birds 
By CHARLOTTE E. VAN SICKLE 
HERE IN northern Illinois we surely had another bad storm this year on 
New Year’s day. Roads were blocked and some farm houses on the highway 
sheltered as many as twenty people all night after their cars had become 
stalled in the drifts. This storm was followed by 20° to 30° below zero 
weather for about ten days. Then came the tire rationing, and so far this 
year my bird hunting has been nil. 
You say that you would like me to write some more of my bird hunting 
experiences, and have been kind enough to say that several remember my 
story of “After the Storm.” We have in the past had some experiences 
with mockingbirds, and on the chance that you may think them of interest 
I am setting them down here. 
In 1933 mockingbirds were discovered nesting in a small clump of 
wild plum trees along the highway leading north from Durand to Brodhead, 
Wis., about six miles north of the state line. That year and the next when- 
ever anyone went to look for the mockingbirds they were seen in the same 
location. It came to be quite a common thing to take guests out to see the 
mockingbirds. Then they disappeared. But even now every time we pass 
that clump of trees someone mentions the mockingbirds that once made 
their home there. 
One day in the spring of 1940, when we had returned from a lengthy 
bird hunting trip, we were informed by friends that “You could never 
guess what bird was seen today in the cemetery.” The cemetery lies just 
outside our village and a pair of mockingbirds nested there that year and 
raised at least one family of young ones. We often discussed and wondered 
what became of these birds in the winter time, and last year we found out 
something about at least one of them. 
Our grandson was ill with pneumonia in a neighboring city hospital 
and my husband was keeping the “home fires” burning in our son’s home 
while they were with the sick boy. Sunday, February 2, he left to fix their 
fire but was back almost immediately and all out of breath. My first 
thought was that he had found something very wrong or heard some very 
bad news, but he put these ideas at rest by saying “I think I saw a mocking- 
bird.” It was cold, with some snow and ice, but hastily putting on a coat 
and galoshes I went back with him, and sure enough we saw the bird again. 
We got some suet and tied it to a fence post, but do not know whether the 
mockingbird ate any of this or not. However, when the boy was better and 
had returned home, the mockingbird came every day for a long time to eat 
at their feeding board, which was put up after their return. 
In the late winter two or three other families in town reported seeing 
a strange gray bird, or a “catbird.” Whether this was the same bird or 
another one of the cemetery family, I do not know. Anyway, when summer 
came the mockingbirds moved back to the cemetery in full force. At one 
time when we were there we counted three pairs, but I am ashamed to say 
that we did not keep close enough watch to know whether any young were 
