When this place was described to President Roosevelt, he immediately declared that the birds must not be killed there without the consent of the Secretary of Agriculture. With one stroke of his pen he brought this desirable condition into existence, and Mrs. Asa Pillsbury was duly appointed to protect the island. She is one of the few women bird wardens in America.

These things happened in the early days of Government work for the protection of water birds. The Audubon Society had found a new field for endeavour, highly prolific in results. With the limited means at its command the work of ornithological exploration was carried forward. Every island, mud flat, and sand bar along the coast of the Mexican {196} Gulf, from Texas to Key West, was visited by trained ornithologists who reported their findings to the New York office. These were forwarded to Washington for the approval of Dr. T. S. Palmer of the Biological Survey, and Frank Bond, of the General Land Office, where executive orders were prepared for the President's signature.

The Breton Island Reservation off the coast of Louisiana, including scores of islands and bars, was established in 1904. Six additional reservations were soon created along the west coast of Florida, thus extending a perpetual guardianship over the colonies of sea and coastwise birds in that territory—the pitiful remnants of vast rookeries despoiled to add to the profits of the millinery trade.

The work was early started in the West resulting in the Malheur Lake and Klamath Lake reservations of Oregon. The latter is to-day the summer home of myriads of Ducks, Geese, Grebes, White Pelicans, and other wild waterfowl, and never a week passes that the waters of the lake are not fretted with the {197} prow of the Audubon patrol boat, as the watchful warden extends his vigil over the feathered wards of our Government.

Federal bird reservations have been formed not only of lakes with reedy margins and lonely islands in the sea, they have been made to include numerous Government reservoirs built in the arid regions of the West.

Distant Reservations.—Once set in motion, this movement for Federal bird reservations soon swept beyond the boundaries of the United States. One was established in Porto Rico, and several others among the islands of Alaska, on whose rocky cliffs may be seen to-day clouds of Puffins, Auks, and Guillemots—queer creatures that stand upright like a man—crowding and shouldering each other about on the ledges which overlook the dark waters of Bering Sea. One reservation in Alaska covers much of the lower delta of the Yukon, including the great tundra country south of the river, embracing within its borders a territory greater than the {198} State of Connecticut. From the standpoint of preserving rare species of birds this is doubtless one of the most important reservations which has come into existence. It is here that many of the wild fowl, which frequent the California coast in winter, find a summer refuge safe alike from the bullet of the white man and the arrow of the Indian. Here it is that the lordly Emperor Goose is probably making his last stand on the American continent against the aggressions of the destructive white race.

Away out in the western group of the Hawaiian Archipelago are located some of the world's most famous colonies of birds. From remote regions of the Pacific sea birds journey hither when the instinct for mating is strong upon them. Here come "Love Birds" or White Terns, and Albatrosses, great winged wonders whose home is on the rolling deep. The number seems almost beyond belief to men and women unfamiliar with bird life in congested colonies. On February 3, 1909, these islands and reefs were included in an executive order whereby {199} the "Hawaiian Island Reservation" was brought into existence. This is the largest of all our Government bird reserves. It extends through more than five degrees of longitude.

At intervals in the past these islands had been visited by vessels engaged in the feather trade, and although no funds were available for establishing a warden patrol among them, it was fondly hoped that the notice to the world that these birds were now wards of the United States would be sufficient to insure their safety.

A rude shock was felt, therefore, when late that year a rumour reached Washington that a Japanese poaching vessel had been sighted heading for these waters. The revenue cutter Thetis, then lying at Honolulu, was at once ordered on a cruise to the bird islands. Early in 1910 the vessel returned, bringing with her twenty-three Japanese feather hunters who had been captured at their work of destruction. In the hold of the vessel were stored two hundred and fifty-nine thousand pairs of wings, {200} two and a half tons of baled feathers, and several large cases and boxes of stuffed birds. Had the Japanese escaped with their booty they would have realized over one hundred thousand dollars for their plunder. This island was again raided by feather collectors in the spring of 1915.

President Taft a Bird Protectionist.—President Taft continued the policy of creating bird reservations begun by Mr. Roosevelt, and a number were established during his administration. President Wilson likewise is a warm advocate of bird protection. One of many reservations he has created is the Panama Canal Zone, which is in charge of the Panama Canal Commission. With this exception and that of the Pribilof Reservation, which is in charge of the Bureau of Fisheries, all Government bird reservations are under the care of the Department of Agriculture, and their administration is directed by the Bureau of the Biological Survey. The National Association of Audubon Societies still contributes in a modest way to the financial support of some of the wardens. {201} Below is given a full list of the Federal bird reservations created up to January, 1917, with the dates, and in the order of, their establishment:

LIST OF NATIONAL BIRD RESERVATIONS

NO. NAME DATE OF ESTABLISHMENT

1. Pelican Island, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . Mar. 14, 1903 2. Breton Island, La. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 4, 1904 3. Stump Lake, N. Dak. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Mar. 9, 1905 4. Huron Islands, Mich. . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 10, 1905 5. Siskiwit Islands, Mich. . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 10, 1905 6. Passage Key, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 10, 1905 7. Indian Key, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 10, 1906 8. Tern Islands, La. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 8, 1907 9. Shell Keys, La. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 17, 1907 10. Three Arch Rocks, Oregon . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 14, 1907 11. Flattery Rocks, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 23, 1907 12. Quillayute Needles, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 23, 1907 13. Copalis Rock, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 23, 1907 14. East Timbalier, La. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 7, 1907 15. Mosquito Inlet, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 24, 1908 16. Tortugas Keys, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Apr. 6, 1908 17. Key West, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 8, 1908 18. Klamath Lake, Oregon . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 8, 1908 19. Lake Malheur, Oregon . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 18, 1908 20. Chase Lake, N. Dak. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 28, 1908 21. Pine Island, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 15, 1908 22. Palma Sola, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 26, 1908 23. Matlacha Pass, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 26, 1908 24. Island Bay, Fla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 23, 1908 25. Lock-Katrine, Wyo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 26, 1908 26. Hawaiian Islands, Hawaii. . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 3, 1909 27. Salt River, Ariz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 28. East Park, Cal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 {202}

29. Deer Flat, Idaho . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 30. Willow Creek, Mont. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 31. Carlsbad, N. Mex. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 32. Rio Grande, N. Mex. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 33. Cold Springs, Oregon . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 34. Belle Fourche, S. Dak. . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 35. Strawberry Valley, Utah . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 36. Keechelus, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 37. Kachess, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 38. Clealum, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 39. Bumping Lake, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 40. Conconully, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 41. Pathfinder, Wyo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 42. Shoshone, Wyo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 43. Minidoka, Idaho . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 25, 1909 44. Bering Sea, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 27, 1909 45. Tuxedni, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 27, 1909 46. St. Lazaria, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 27, 1909 47. Yukon Delta, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 27, 1909 48. Culebra, P. R. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 27, 1909 49. Farallon, Calif. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 27, 1909 50. Pribilof, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 27, 1909 51. Bogoslof, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Mar. 2, 1909 52. Clear Lake, Calif. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Apr. 11, 1911 53. Forrester Island, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 11, 1913 54. Hazy Islands, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 11, 1913 55. Niobrara, Nebr. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 11, 1913 56. Green Bay, Wis. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Feb. 21, 1913 57. Chamisso Island, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 7, 1912 58. Pishkun, Montana. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 17, 1912 59. Desecheo Island, P. R. . . . . . . . . . . . Dec. 19, 1912 60. Gravel Island, Wis. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 9, 1913 61. Aleutian Islands, Alaska . . . . . . . . . . Mar. 3, 1913 62. Walker Lake, Ark. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Apr. 31, 1913

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63. Petit Bois Island, Ala. and Miss. . . . . . . May 6, 1913 64. Anaho Island, Nevada. . . . . . . . . . . . Sept. 4, 1913 65. Smith Island, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . June 6, 1914 66. Ediz Hook, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 20, 1915 67. Dungeness Spit, Wash. . . . . . . . . . . . . Jan. 20, 1915 68. Big Lake, Arkansas . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 2, 1915 69. Goat Island, California . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 9, 1916 70. North Platte, Nebraska . . . . . . . . . . . Aug. 21, 1916

Audubon Society Reservations.—It may be noted from this list that there are no Government bird reservations in the original thirteen colonies. The reason is that there are no Government waste lands containing bird colonies in these states. To protect the colony-breeding birds found there other means were necessary. The Audubon Society employs annually about sixty agents to guard in summer the more important groups of water birds along the Atlantic Coast and about some of the lakes of the interior. Water-bird colonies are usually situated on islands where the birds are comparatively free from the attacks of natural enemies; hence the question of guarding them resolves itself mainly into the question of keeping people from disturbing the birds {204} during the late spring and summer months. Painted signs will not do this. Men hired for the purpose constitute the only adequate means. Some of the protected islands have been bought or leased by the Audubon Society, but in many cases they are still under private ownership and the privilege of placing a guard had to be obtained as a favour from the owner. Probably half a million breeding water birds now find protection in the Audubon reservations. On the islands off the Maine coast the principal birds safeguarded by this means are the Herring Gull, Arctic Tern, Wilson's Tern, Leach's Petrel, Black Guillemot, and Puffin. There are protected colonies of Terns on Long Island; of Terns and Laughing Gulls on the New Jersey coast; of Black Skimmers, and of various Terns, in Virginia and North Carolina.

One of the greatest struggles the Audubon Society has ever had has been to raise funds every year for the protection of the colonies of Egrets and Ibis in the South Atlantic States. The story of this fight is longer than {205} can be told in one short chapter. The protected colonies are located mainly in the low swampy regions of North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. I have been in many of these "rookeries" and know that the warden who undertakes to guard one of them takes his life in his hand. Perhaps a description of one will answer more or less for the twenty other Heron colonies the Society has under its care.

The Corkscrew Rookery.—Some time ago I visited the warden of this reservation, located in the edge of the "Big Cypress" Swamp thirty-two miles south of Ft. Myers, Florida. Arriving at the colony late in the evening, after having travelled thirty miles without seeing a human being or a human habitation, we killed a rattlesnake and proceeded to make camp. The shouting of a pair of Sandhill Cranes awakened us at daylight, and, to quote Greene, the warden, the sun was about "two hands high" when we started into the rookery. We crossed a glade two hundred yards wide and then entered the swamp. Progress {206} was slow, for the footing was uncertain and the tall sawgrass cut our wrists and faces.

There are many things unspeakably stimulating about a journey in such a tropical swamp. You work your way through thick, tangled growths of water plants and hanging vines. You clamber over huge fallen logs damp with rank vegetation, and wade through a maze of cypress "knees." Unwittingly, you are sure to gather on your clothing a colony of ravenous ticks from some swaying branch. Redbugs bent on mischief scramble up on you by the score and bury themselves in your skin, while a cloud of mosquitoes waves behind you like a veil. In the sombre shadows through which you move you have a feeling that there are many unseen things that crawl and glide and fly, and a creepy feeling about the edges of your scalp becomes a familiar sensation. Once we came upon the trail of a bear and found the going easier when we waded on hands and knees through the opening its body had made.

In the more open places the water was completely {207} covered with floating plants that Greene called "wild lettuce." These appeared to be uniform in size, and presented an absolutely level surface except in a few places where slight elevations indicated the presence of inquisitive alligators, whose gray eyes we knew were watching our movements through the lettuce leaves.

Although the swamp was unpleasant under foot, we had but to raise our eyes to behold a world of beauty. The purple blossoms of air plants, and the delicate petals of other orchids greeted us everywhere. From the boughs overhead long streamers of gray Spanish moss waved and beckoned in the breeze. Still higher, on gaunt branches of giant cypresses a hundred feet above our heads, great, grotesque Wood Ibises were standing on their nests, or taking flight for their feeding grounds a dozen miles southward.



We were now fairly in the midst of an immense bird city, and some of the inhabitants were veritable giants in the bird world. The body of a Wood Ibis {209} is about the size of a Turkey hen. Its long, bare neck terminates in a most remarkable fashion, for the top of the head is not only innocent of feathers but also destitute of skin—"Flintheads," the people call the bird. Its bill is nearly ten inches long, slightly curved and very massive. Woe to the unlucky fish or luckless rat upon whom a blow falls from the Flinthead's heavy beak! There were probably one hundred thousand of these birds inhabiting Corkscrew Rookery at the time of my visit. There were also large colonies of the smaller White Ibis and several varieties of Heron. Eight of the almost extinct Roseate Spoonbills wheeled into view above the swamp, but quickly passed from sight.



The most interesting birds, those concerning which the Audubon Society is most solicitous, are the White Egrets. These snow-white models of grace and beauty have been persecuted for their plumes almost to the point of extermination, and here is situated the largest assemblage of them left in Florida.

"Those 'long whites' are never off my mind for a {210} minute," said the warden, as we paused to watch some fly over. "Two men came to my camp last week who thought I didn't know them, but I did. They were old-time plume hunters. They said they were hunting cattle, but I knew better—they were after Egrets and came to see if I was on guard. I told them if they saw any one after plumes to pass {211} the word that I would shoot on sight any man with a gun who attempted to enter the Corkscrew. I would do it, too," he added as he tapped the barrel of his Winchester. "It is terrible to hear the young birds calling for food after the old ones have been killed to get the feathers for rich women to wear. I am not going to have my birds sacrificed that way."



The teeming thousands of birds in this rookery feed their young to a more or less extent on fish, and from the nests many fragments fall into the mud and water below. In the wise economy of nature few objects of real value are suffered to go to waste. Resting on the water plants, coiled on logs, or festooned in the low bushes, numerous cotton-mouthed water-moccasins lie in wait. Silently and motionless they watch and listen, now and then raising their heads when a light splash tells them of the approach of some heedless frog, or of the falling of some dead fish like manna from the nests above. May is the dry season, and the low water of the swamp accounted in a measure for the unusual number of snakes to {212} be seen. Exercising a fair amount of caution, I slew that morning fourteen poisonous reptiles, one of which measured more than five feet in length and had a girth I was just able to encompass with both hands.

Wardens Shot by Plume Hunters.—This is a region where the Audubon warden must constantly keep his lonely watch, for should he leave even for a short time there would be danger of the colony being raided and the protective work of many seasons wiped out. A successful shooting trip of plume hunters to the Corkscrew might well net the gunners as much as five thousand dollars, and in a country where money is scarce that would mean a magnificent fortune. The warden is fully alive to this fact, and is ever on the alert. Many of the plume hunters are desperate men, and he never knows what moment he may need to grasp his rifle to defend his life in the shadows of the Big Cypress, where alligators and vultures would make short shrift of his remains.

He remembers, as he goes his rounds among the birds day by day, or lies in his tent at night, that a {213} little way to the south, on a lonely sand key, lies buried Guy Bradley, who was done to death by plume hunters while guarding for the Audubon Society the Cuthbert Egret Rookery. On Orange Lake, northward, the warden in charge still carries in his body a bullet from a plume gatherer's gun. Only three days before my visit Greene's nearest brother warden on duty at the Alligator Bay Colony had a desperate rifle battle with four poachers who, in defiance of law and decency, attempted to shoot the Egrets which he was paid to protect.

I like to think of Greene as I saw him the last night in camp, his brown, lean face aglow with interest as he told me many things about the birds he guarded. The next day I was to leave him, and night after night he would sit by his fire, a lonely representative of the Audubon Society away down there on the edge of the Big Cypress, standing as best he could between the lives of the birds he loved and the insatiable greed of Fashion.



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CHAPTER XI

MAKING BIRD SANCTUARIES

The best place to study wild birds is on a reservation, for there birds have greatly lost their fear of man, and primitive conditions have been largely restored. In one of the southern sea-bird colonies I have photographed Royal Terns standing unafraid on the sands not twelve feet distant. They had become so accustomed to the warden in charge that they had regained their confidence in man. At Lake Worth I saw a gentleman feed Scaup Ducks that swam to within two yards of his boat. In thousands of dooryards throughout the country wild birds, won by kind treatment, now take their food or drink within a few feet of their human protectors. The dooryards have become little bird reservations. I have several {215} friends who regularly feed Chickadees in winter, perched on their outstretched hands. It is astonishing how quickly wild creatures respond to a reasonable treatment. This may readily be learned by any householder who will try the experiment. With a little patience any teacher can instruct her pupils in the simple art of making the birds feel at home in the vicinity of the schoolhouse.

Natural Nesting Places Destroyed.—Some kinds of birds, as far back as we know their history, have built their nests in the holes of trees. Woodpeckers have strong, chisel-shaped bills and are able to excavate nesting cavities, but there are others that do not possess such tools. These must depend on finding the abandoned hole of some Woodpecker, or the natural hollow of some tree. It not infrequently happens that such birds are obliged to search far and wide for a hole in which they can make their abode. It is customary for those who take care of lawns and city parks to chop away and remove all dead limbs or dead trees. As very few Woodpeckers ever attempt {217} to dig a nesting hole in a living tree, such work of the axeman means that when the season comes for the rearing of young, all mated Woodpeckers must move on to where more natural conditions await them. This results in an abnormal reduction of the number of holes for the use of the weaker-billed hole-nesting species, and they must seek the few available hollows or knot-holes. Even these places are often taken away from them, for along comes the tree doctor, who, in his purpose of aiding to preserve the trees, fills up the natural openings with cement and the birds are literally left out in the cold. It is plainly to be seen, therefore, that one reason why more birds do not remain in our towns through the spring months is the absence of places where they can lay their eggs and rear their young.



Nesting Boxes for Birds.—To overcome this difficulty the Audubon Society several years ago began to advocate the erection of suitable nesting boxes, and to-day the practice is gaining wide usage. More persons every year are putting such boxes upon poles {218} or nailing them to trees about their homes, and some city authorities include bird boxes in the annual expenditure for the care of public parks. It was not much more than a decade ago that the first serious commercial attempt was made to place bird boxes on the market. To-day there are not less than twenty firms engaged in their manufacture. Some of the boxes are very ornate and make beautiful additions even to the most carefully kept estate. One can buy them at prices varying from thirty-five cents to thirty-five dollars each. Among the many responsible manufacturers that may be recommended are:

The Crescent Company, "Birdville," Toms River, New Jersey; Pinedale Bird Nesting Box Company, Wareham, Massachusetts; The Audubon Bird House Company, Meriden, New Hampshire; Maplewood Biologica Laboratory, Stamford, Connecticut; Jacobs Bird House Company, 404 South Washington St., Waynesburg, Pa.; Decker Brothers, Rhinebeck, New York; Winthrop Packard, Canton, Massachusetts.



It is not necessary, however, to buy boxes to put {220} up for birds. Equally useful ones can be made in the Manual Training Department of any school, or in the basement or woodshed at home. If you do not know how to begin, you should buy one bird box and construct others similar for yourself. Men sometimes make the mistake of thinking it is absolutely necessary that such boxes should conform strictly to certain set dimensions. Remember that the cavities in trees and stumps, which birds naturally use, show a wide variety in size, shape, and location. A many-roomed, well-painted Martin house makes a pleasing appearance in the landscape, but may not be attractive to the Martins. As a boy I built up a colony of more than fifteen pairs of these birds by the simple device of rudely partitioning a couple of soap boxes. The entrances to the different rooms were neither uniform in size nor in shape, but were such as an untrained boy could cut out with a hatchet. A dozen gourds, each with a large hole in the side, completed the tenements for this well-contented Martin community.

Some Rules for Making and Erecting Bird Boxes.—Here are a few simple rules on the making and placing of bird boxes:

1. In all nest boxes, except those designed for Martins, the opening should be several inches above the floor, thus conforming to the general plan of a Woodpecker's hole, or natural cavity in a tree.

2. As a rule nest boxes should be erected on poles from ten to thirty feet from the ground, or fastened to the sides of trees where limbs do not interfere with the outlook. The main exception is in the case of Wrens, whose boxes or gourds can be nailed or wired in fruit trees or to the side of buildings.

3. Martin houses should be erected on poles at least twenty feet high, placed well out in the open, not less than one hundred feet from buildings or large trees.

4. All boxes should be taken down after the nesting season and the old nesting material removed.

Size of Bird Boxes.—As to the size of nesting boxes for various species, and the diameter of the entrance hole, I cannot do better than give the dimensions {222} prepared by Ned Dearborn, of the United States Department of Agriculture, Washington, D. C.

DIMENSIONS OF NESTING BOXES

Species Floor Depth Entrance Diameter Height of of above of above cavity cavity floor entrance ground

Inches Inches Inches Inches Feet

Bluebird 5 by 5 8 6 1 1/2 5 to 10 Robin 6 by 8 8 [1] [1] 6 to 15 Chickadee 4 by 4 8 to 10 8 1 1/8 6 to 15 Tufted Titmouse 4 by 4 8 to 10 8 1 1/4 6 to 15 White-breasted Nuthatch 4 by 4 8 to 10 8 1 1/4 12 to 20 House Wren 4 by 4 6 to 8 1 to 6 7/8 6 to 10 Bewick Wren 4 by 4 6 to 8 1 to 6 1 6 to 10 Carolina Wren 4 by 4 6 to 8 1 to 6 1 1/8 6 to 10 Dipper 6 by 6 6 1 3 1 to 3 Violet-green Swallow 5 by 5 6 1 to 6 1 1/2 10 to 15 Tree Swallow 5 by 5 6 1 to 6 1 1/2 10 to 15 Barn Swallow 6 by 6 6 [1] [1] 8 to 12 Martin 6 by 6 6 1 2 1/2 15 to 20 Song Sparrow 6 by 6 6 [2] [2] 1 to 3 House Finch 6 by 6 6 4 2 8 to 12 Phoebe 6 by 6 6 [1] [1] 8 to 12 Crested Flycatcher 6 by 6 8 to 10 8 2 8 to 20 Flicker 7 by 7 16 to 18 16 2 1/2 6 to 20 Red-headed Woodpecker 6 by 6 12 to 15 12 2 12 to 20 Golden-fronted Woodpecker 6 by 6 12 to 15 12 2 12 to 20 Hairy Woodpecker 6 by 6 12 to 15 12 1 1/2 12 to 20 Downy Woodpecker 4 by 4 8 to 10 8 1 1/4 6 to 20 Screech Owl 8 by 8 12 to 15 12 3 10 to 30 Sparrow Hawk 8 by 8 12 to 15 12 3 10 to 30 Saw-whet Owl 6 by 6 10 to 12 10 2 1/2 12 to 20 Barn Owl 10 by 18 15 to 18 4 6 12 to 18 Wood Duck 10 by 18 10 to 15 3 6 4 to 20

[1] One or more sides open.

[2] All sides open.

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The foregoing list does not contain the names of all the kinds of birds which have thus far been induced to occupy these artificial nesting sites, but it has most of them. It should be remembered that hole-nesting birds are the only kind that will ever use a bird box. One need not expect a Meadowlark to leave its nest in the grass for a box on a pole, nor imagine that an Oriole will give up the practice of weaving its swinging cradle on an elm limb to go into a box nailed to the side of the tree.

Feeding Birds.—Much can be done to bring birds about the home or the schoolhouse by placing food where they can readily get it. The majority of land birds that pass the winter in Canada or in the colder parts of the United States feed mainly upon seeds. Cracked corn, wheat, rice, sunflower seed, hemp seed, and bird seed, purchased readily in any town, are, therefore, exceedingly attractive articles of diet. Bread crumbs are enjoyed by many species. Food should not be thrown out on the snow unless there is a crust on it or the snow has been well trampled down. {224} Usually it should be placed on boards. Various feeding plans have been devised to prevent the food from being covered or washed away by snow or rain. Detailed explanations of these can be found in Bulletin No. 1, "Attracting Birds About the Home," issued by the National Association of Audubon Societies. Suet wired to the limb of a tree on the lawn will give comfort and nourishment to many a Chickadee, Nuthatch and Downy Woodpecker. To make a bird sanctuary nesting sites and food are the first requirements. There appears to be no reason why town and city parks should not be made into places of great attraction for the wild birds.



Community Sanctuaries.—At Meriden, New Hampshire, there is a tract of land containing thirty-two acres of fields and woods, dedicated to the comfort and happiness of wild birds. It is owned by the Meriden Bird Club, and owes its existence largely to the intelligence and enthusiasm of Ernest H. Baynes, bird-lover and lecturer, who lives there. The entire community takes an interest in its maintenance, {225} and there birds are fed and nesting places provided. It is in the widest sense a "community sanctuary." There are now a number of these cooeperative bird havens established and cared for in practically the same way. One is in Cincinnati, another in Ithaca, New York, and still another at Greenwich, Connecticut.

Birdcraft Sanctuary.—The best equipped of this class of community bird refuges, as distinguished from private estates, or Audubon Society, State, or Federal bird reservations, is Birdcraft Sanctuary in Fairfield, Connecticut, a tract of ten acres presented to the Connecticut Audubon Society in June, 1914. Mrs. Mabel Osgood Wright, President of the Connecticut Society, has written that in the creation of this sanctuary it was decided that certain requirements were necessary:

"A cat-proof fence to surround the entire place. That it may not look aggressive, it should be set well inside the picturesque old wall. Stone gateposts and a rustic gate at the entrance on the {226} highway. A bungalow for the caretaker, wherein there shall be a room for the meetings of the Society's Executive Committee and Board. A tool and workshop of corresponding style. Several rustic shelters and many seats.

"The assembling of the various springs into a pond, so designed as to make an island of a place where the Redwings nest.

"Trails to be cut through the brush and the turf grass in a charming bit of old orchard on the hilltop, to be restored for the benefit of worm-pulling Robins.

"Several stone basins to be constructed for birdbaths, houses to be put up of all sorts, from Wren boxes, Von Berlepsch model. Flicker and Owl boxes, to a Martin hotel; and, lastly, the supplementing of the natural growth by planting pines, spruces, and hemlocks for windbreaks, and mountain ashes, mulberries, sweet cherries, flowering shrubs and vines for berries and Hummingbird honey."

Not only were all these things done, but there has {227} been built and equipped a small museum of Natural History, unique in its good taste and usefulness.

Cemeteries as Bird Sanctuaries.—The interest in the subject of bird sanctuaries is growing every day; in fact, all America is now planning new homes for her birds—homes where they may live with unrestricted freedom, where food and lodging in abundance, and of the best, will be supplied, where bathing-pools will be at their service, where blossoming trees will welcome them in the spring and fields of grain in the fall, quiet places where these privileges will bring to the birds much joy and contentment. Throughout this country there should be a concerted effort to convert the cemeteries, the homes of our friends who have gone away, into sanctuaries for the bird life of this land. And what isolated spots could be more welcome to the birds than these places that hold so many sad memories for human beings?

No place in the world ought to speak more forcibly to us of the Resurrection than the cemeteries of our land. In them we should hear inspiring bird songs, {228} notice the nesting of birds, and the little ones preparing for their flight into the world. There we should find beautiful flowers and waving grain, typical of that spiritual harvest which should be associated in our minds with comfort and peace.

A Birdless Cemetery.—I visited, not long ago, one of the old-time cemeteries, the pride of a neighbouring city. It was indeed a place of beauty to the eye; but to my mind there is always something flat and insipid about a landscape lacking the music of singing birds. Therefore I looked and listened for my feathered friends. Some English Sparrows flew up from the drive, and I heard the rusty hinge-like notes of a small company of Purple Crackles that were nesting, I suspected, in the pine trees down the slope, but of really cheerful bird life there appeared to be none in this artificially beautified, forty-acre enclosure. There is no reason to suppose that, under normal conditions, birds would shun a cemetery any more than does the traditional graveyard rabbit.

It was not dread of the dead, such as some mortals {229} have, that kept the song birds from this place; it was the work of the living that had driven them away. From one boundary to another there was scarcely a yard of underbrush where a Thrasher or Chewink might lurk, or in which a Redstart, or a dainty Chestnut-sided Warbler, might place its nest. Not a drop of water was discoverable, where a bird might slake its thirst. Neither in limb nor bole was there a single cavity where a Titmouse, Wren, or Bluebird might construct a bed for its young. No fruit-bearing trees were there to invite the birds in summer; nor, so far as I could see, any berry-bearing shrubs such as birds enjoy, nor any weed patches to attract the flocks of Whitethroats and Juncos that come drifting southward with the falling leaves of autumn.

Had my visit to this place been made late in April, or in May, there might have been a different tale to tell. September might also have yielded more birds than June, for September is a season when the migrants are with us for a time. Then the little voyageurs of the upper air are wont to pause after a {230} night of tiresome flight, and rest for the day in any grove that chances to possess even moderate home comforts.

Birds of a New York Graveyard.—Some time ago B. S. Bowdish made a careful study of the bird life of St. Paul's Churchyard, in New York City. This property is three hundred and thirty-three feet long and one hundred and seventy-seven feet wide. In it is a large church and also a church school. Along one side surge the Broadway throngs. From the opposite side come the roar and rumble of an elevated railway. The area contains, according to Mr. Bowdish, three large, ten medium, and forty small trees. With great frequency for two years, field glass in hand, he pursued his work of making a bird census of the graveyard. No bird's nest rewarded his search, for the place was absolutely destitute of feathered songsters during the late spring and summer, and, with a single exception, he never found a bird there in winter. Yet it is interesting to note that in this noisy, limited area, during the {331} periods of migration, he discovered three hundred and twenty-eight birds, embracing forty species.

Why do not more of the birds that pass in spring tarry in this quiet place for the summer? The answer is that the cemetery has been rendered unattractive to them by the merely human committee in charge of the property.

During the season when birds are engaged with their domestic duties they are usually a very wise little people. They know perfectly well whether a region is calculated to provide them with sure and safe nesting sites, and whether sufficient food and water are available for their daily wants. A little of this same wisdom on our part, and a comparatively small expenditure, might make a bird paradise of almost any cemetery. Such places are not usually frequented by men and boys who go afield for the purpose of shooting. That is an important point in the establishment of a bird sanctuary.

Eliminate Enemies.—One great enemy of the birds, however, must be guarded against—the domestic {232} cat. This can be done fairly effectively by means of a cat-proof fence.

Gunners and cats having been eliminated, few other enemies of birds need be seriously considered. Bird-catching Hawks are not often numerous in the neighbourhood of cemeteries. Red squirrels are accused of pilfering from birds' nests, and when abundant they may constitute a menace.

Properly constructed bird boxes, wisely placed, have often proved a means of increasing bird life to an astonishing degree; and they are absolutely the only inducement to hole-nesting varieties to remain during the summer in a cemetery from which all standing dead wood has been removed. Even the strong-billed Woodpecker will not abide in a region where the only trees are living ones, unless, perchance, an artificial nest entices the resplendent and dashing Flicker to tarry. Many a Bluebird, with its azure coat gleaming in the sunlight, visits the cemetery in early spring. From perch to perch he flies, and in his plaintive note can be detected the {233} question that every bird asks of his mate: "Where shall we find a place for our nest?" In the end he flies away. Therefore when the roses and lilies bloom the visitor is deprived of the Bluebird's cheery song, for the little fellow and his mate have departed to the neighbouring farm where they may be found, perhaps, in the old apple orchard.

A few cents expended for lumber and a very little labour in the making of a small box to be attached to the side of a tree or erected on a post, are all that is needed to keep the Bluebirds where they can cheer the hearts of sorrowing visitors. The tiny Wrens, whose loud bursts of song are entirely out of proportion to their size, can be attracted in summer to the proportion of two pairs or more to every acre.

It is a curious fact, of which I believe but little has been written, that birds that build open nests may often be induced to remain in a locality if attractive nesting material is placed within easy reach.

In many a cemetery Orioles could be tempted to weave cradles among the swaying elm limbs if {234} strings and fragments of brightly coloured yarns were placed where the birds could find them. Baron von Berlepsch, whose experiments in attracting birds to his place in Germany have been widely advertised, found that when the tops of bushes were drawn in closely by means of a wire or cord, the resulting thick mass of leaves and twigs offered so fine a place for concealing nests that few birds could resist the temptation to use them.

Other means of rendering a cemetery alluring to nesting birds will readily present themselves when an active interest is developed in the subject. A little thought, a little care, and a little trouble, would make it possible for many birds to dwell in a cemetery, and it must be remembered that unless they can nest there, the chances are that no great volume of bird music will fill the air.



The young of most song birds are fed to a great extent on the soft larvae of insects, of which there is usually an abundant supply everywhere. Many mother birds, however, like to vary this animal diet {235} with a little fruit juice, and the ripened pulp of the blackberry, strawberry, or mulberry, will cheer the spirits of their nestlings. Such fruits in most places are easily grown, and they make a pleasant addition to the birds' menu. In a well-watered territory {236} birds are always more numerous than in a dry region. You may find a hundred of them along the stream in the valley to one on the mountain-top. A cemetery undecorated with fountains, and through or near which no stream flows, is too dry a place for the average bird to risk the exigencies of rearing a family. A few simply constructed fountains or drinking-pools will work wonders in the way of attracting birds to a waterless territory.

In many graveyards considerable unoccupied space might well be planted in buckwheat or some other small grain. If this is left uncut the quantity of nourishing food thus produced will bring together many kinds of grain-eating birds.

Berries and Fruits for Birds.—Many native shrubs and bushes grow berries that birds will come far to gather. Look over the following list which Frederick H. Kennard, of Massachusetts, has recommended, and see if you do not think many of them would be decorative additions to the cemetery. Surely some of them are equal in beauty to many of {237} the shrubs usually planted, and they have the added value of furnishing birds with wholesome food. Here is a part of Mr. Kennard's list: shad-bush, gray, silky, and red osier, cornel, dangleberry, huckleberry, inkberry, black alder, bayberry, shining, smooth, and staghorn sumachs, large-flowering currant, thimbleberry, blackberry, elder, snowberry, dwarf bilberry, blueberry, black haw, hobblebush, and arrow-wood. In the way of fruit-bearing shade trees he recommends sugar maple, flowering dogwood, white and cockspur thorn, native red mulberry, tupelo, black cherry, choke cherry, and mountain ash. For the same purpose he especially recommends the planting of the following vines: Virginia creeper, bull-beaver, frost grape, and fox grape.

Such shrubs and vines are usually well stripped of their berries after the first heavy snowfall. That is the time to begin feeding the birds in earnest. The more food wisely placed where the birds can get it, the more birds you will surely have in the winter. Seeds and grain, with a judicious mixture of animal {238} fat, form the best possible ration for the little feathered pilgrims. Rye, wheat, sunflower seeds, and cracked corn, mixed together in equal parts and accompanied by a liberal sprinkling of ground suet and beef scrap, make an excellent food for birds at this season. This should be placed on shelves attached to trees or buildings, or on oilcloth spread on the snow, or on the ground where the snow has been scraped away. On one occasion the writer attracted many birds by the simple method of providing them with finely pounded fresh beef bones. Furnishing birds with food in winter might well be made a pleasant and profitable duty of the children who attend Sunday-school in rural churches that have graveyards near.

Why should we not make a bird sanctuary of every city park and cemetery in America? Why leave these places to the Sparrows, the Grackles, and perhaps the Starlings, when Bluebirds and Thrushes are within hail, eager to come if the hand of invitation be extended?



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CHAPTER XII

TEACHING BIRD STUDY

A little after six o'clock one July morning on the campus of the University of Tennessee, I stood near the centre of a semi-circle of twenty-five school teachers whose expressions indicated a high state of excitement, and whose fifty eyes were riveted on a scene of slaughter but a few feet from them. For five minutes we had scarcely moved. During this time the lives of thirty-two specimens of animal life had been blotted out. The perpetrator of this holocaust was a creature known to scientists as Spizella socialis—called by ordinary people Chipping Sparrow. Its victims were small insects which but a moment before were disporting themselves on the grass.

Preparation of Teachers.—One teacher expressed {240} surprise that a bird could find so many of these choice morsels in so short a time. She had never imagined that so many insects inhabited so small an area as that to which the bird had confined its operations. "Very well," said the instructor, "suppose all of you get down and see how many insects you can find in five minutes." So while he held the watch all proceeded to take part in a bug-hunting contest. In this novel undertaking even the women of the class displayed great zeal. When time was called it was found that one student had a credit of fourteen, another sixteen, a third nineteen, and one tall young woman with glasses exhibited twenty-one insects in the folds of her handkerchief.

A stranger watching the actions of this band of eager, early-rising teachers might have been puzzled to determine what induced them to assemble at this hour of the day for the evident purpose of watching the habits and activities of small birds that the ordinary person passes without notice. They were, nevertheless, occupied in one of the most valuable {241} studies that could have claimed their attention.



For many years the United States Department of Agriculture has been employing trained naturalists to give their time to the investigation of the damage done to growing crops by the insect hosts that infest fields and forests. These and other experts have come forward with astounding statements regarding the destructiveness of birds to insects. We are told, too, that each bird is virtually a living dynamo of energy; that its heart beats twice as fast as the human heart; and that the normal temperature of its blood registers over a hundred degrees. It is a simple fact of biology, therefore, that a tremendous amount of nourishing food is necessary for the bird's existence. Vast quantities of insects are needed for this purpose.

Some time ago a New England gentleman became so impressed by the frequency with which a pair of Robins visited their nest with food for the young that he determined to learn more about the food-consuming {242} possibilities of the four nestlings. The day the offspring left their cradle he temporarily took possession of them. With the aid of some friends, who kindly undertook to dig fishworms for him, he proceeded to give the baby Robins all they cared to eat between daylight and dark. He found to his very great surprise that these small birds consumed in one day food to the amount of their own weight and 56 per cent. additional. If an average-sized man were to eat at this rate he would require seventy pounds of beef and several gallons of water daily. Upon reaching maturity the Robins probably do not eat so greedily, but the incident serves to illustrate their capacity in the days of youth.

The school teachers at the Knoxville Summer School who watched the Chipping Sparrow that morning were members of a group of earnest men and women whose lives were dedicated to the training of children. For nine months they had been in the classroom, meeting heroically the petty trials and annoyances incident to their life work. Now, {243} instead of spending their brief vacation in idleness, they were seeking additional knowledge to prepare them for more valuable future service. They were learning that morning the important lesson that birds are placed on earth for a useful purpose. When they returned to the schoolroom they would teach the boys that the bird is a friend to the farmer and should not be killed nor its nest destroyed. They would teach girls that there is something far more exquisite about the living bird than is to be found in the faded lustre of its feathers when sewed on a hat, and they would cultivate in the heart of the girls a feeling of sympathy for the home life of the birds about them.

The greatest problem to be solved by those actively engaged in measures which make for civic righteousness is how to preserve the children of the country from evil influences, and to direct their curiosity and restless energy into safe and productive channels. The teacher occupies a strategic position in this matter, and one of her problems is how to {244} engage the interest of the child in subjects that are both entertaining and beneficial. Simple lessons in nature study are an excellent method by which to accomplish this end, and a study of out-of-door life should begin with birds.

Bird Study Class.—The systematic instruction of school children in bird study on a careful scientific basis in a large way really had its origin in May, 1910, when Mrs. Russell Sage sent to the National Association of Audubon Societies a cheque for five thousand five hundred dollars with which to inaugurate a plan of bird study in the Southern schools that the writer had outlined to her. She desired that a special effort should be made to arouse interest in the protection of the Robin, which in the Southern States was at that time almost universally regarded as a game bird whose natural destiny was considered to be a potpie. Bird study, it is true, was at that time taught in many city schools, but usually the subject was given slight space in the curriculum, and for the children and {245} teachers there was available only a limited literature, and it was of an inadequate character. A working plan was at once developed whereby literature, coloured pictures of birds, and the Audubon button should be supplied to all the pupils in a school who enrolled themselves as members of an Audubon Class. Each member was required to pay a nominal fee, which, however, was much less than the cost of producing the material received in return.

During the school year that followed the matter was brought to the attention of many of the Southern teachers, and over five hundred Junior Audubon societies resulted, with an enrollment of more than ten thousand children. Following the course of instruction outlined in the literature furnished to the teachers, these children were taught the correct names of many of the common birds, and on field walks they learned to know them by sight. The dates when certain birds were last seen in autumn and first arrived in spring were noted and carefully recorded. Food was given to the birds in winter and {246} bird boxes of various patterns were constructed and placed in parks, orchards, or woods where they would most likely be of service to birds looking for suitable nesting hollows. Bird study was correlated with reading, English composition, history, geography, and even arithmetic.

A Nation-wide Movement.—So successful did this experiment prove that the Audubon workers agreed upon extending this same system into the schools of all the other States in the Union, and the various Provinces of Canada. The fall of 1911, therefore, saw plans well under way for a greatly enlarged scope of work. During the school year, which closed the last of June, 1912, the Association, at a cost of thirteen thousand dollars, enrolled 29,369 school children under the standard bearing the inscription "Protect the Birds."

The movement has continued to grow, and up to June 1, 1916, there had been formed 27,873 classes with a total membership of 559,840 children. The Association is annually expending on this work {247} $25,000 more than the children's fees amount to. Of this amount Mrs. Sage continues to contribute one-fifth, the remaining four-fifths being given by an anonymous friend of children and birds. In supplying these pupils and their teachers with the necessary pictures, leaflets, and outline drawings of birds for colouring, over thirty-one million pages of printed information have been distributed. Pupils have taken hold of this bird study with great zest. Many a dull or inattentive boy, who had been a despair to his teacher and parents, responded to this real nature teaching which took him from his ordinarily uninteresting studies into the wide out of doors. Thousands of teachers have written letters filled with expressions of thankfulness for this opportunity which has come to them and reciting details of the variety of ways in which they have been able to make use of this plan and material for bird study.

What One Teacher Did.—Here, for example, is one from Miss Beth Merritt, who teaches in a little school at Fountain City, Tennessee: "I am very glad to {248} write to you about the Junior Audubon Class we had at school this year. We all enjoyed it exceedingly, and I am sure it did good in the hearts and lives of the little people who were members and in the bird world, too. A year ago I invited the children of some of the other grades to join our Audubon Class and we had over forty members. We had our meetings on Friday afternoons after school. The class was quite successful and we saw some direct results of its success. Several nest-robbing boys gave up that 'sport' altogether. One boy was instrumental in bringing about the arrest of some men who had been shooting song birds. This year I had the class only in my own grade—the second. Almost every child in the room joined, making twenty members. I had daily periods for nature study and language, and every other Friday we used these two periods for the Audubon Class. The children were always anxious for the Audubon Fridays to come. They used often to ask, 'Is to-morrow Bird Day, Miss Beth?' and if I answered in the affirmative, I heard 'Oh, goody,' [248] and 'I won't forget to wear my button,' and 'I wonder what bird it will be,' from every side. Rarely ever did we have an absent mark on Bird Day.

"After we had used all ten of the leaflets you sent us, we had lessons on some of the other birds, or, instead of a regular lesson, we went for a bird walk. I divided the class for these walks, taking ten children at a time. How excited they would get over the birds they saw! Nearly always they could identify the birds themselves, sometimes I helped them, sometimes my bird book helped me, and sometimes we had to write in the notebooks, 'unknown.' I will not try to tell you about all the good results of our Audubon Class that I have noticed. The most important thing I think is that a few more children have a keen interest and a true love for their little brothers of the air. Last year a favourite pastime of a neighbour was shooting birds for his cat, and I think he was no more particular than his cat as to the kind of birds he destroyed. His little daughter was a member of the Audubon Class and this spring I notice our {250} neighbour's cat has to catch its own birds. Perhaps, if the little girl can be an Audubon member another year, there will be no more cat!

"A mother of another little member of the class used to delight in birds' plumes, breasts, or feathers of some kind on her hat. Her spring hat this year was trimmed in ribbon. I have heard several bird lovers say that they have noticed more of our common wild birds about this place than there were last year, and they believe the Junior Audubon societies in the schools have brought about this happy state. When school closed many of the mothers came to me and said that they wished to thank me for what I had done for their children along the line of nature study, especially of birds. They said that they thought the Junior Audubon Class a splendid thing for their children. And I think it is equally good for the teachers."

Another Junior Club leader, Miss Edna Stafford, a teacher in the public schools of Albany, Indiana, writes: "One day last summer a twelve-year-old boy {251} was out in our street with an airgun shooting at every bird he could see. Recently this same boy came to me with a bird that was hurt, and in a most sympathetic tone said: 'Who do you suppose could have been mean enough to hurt this dear little bird?' Our study of birds in the Junior Audubon Class brought about this change in the boy."

Junior Game Protectors.—Another leader reported from Nashville that the one thousand junior members in the schools there had turned into voluntary bird wardens, and spied upon every man or boy who went afield with a gun. In a number of places the juniors have built and sold bird boxes by hundreds and used the proceeds for advancing the work. In one town the juniors had a most successful tag day, and collected funds that were used to buy grain with which to feed birds in winter. In Connecticut a most helpful and stimulating communication has been established between many of the classes. A junior class in the Logan School, Minneapolis, has even started the publication of a magazine called {252} Owaissa, after the Indian name for Bluebird, as given in Longfellow's "Hiawatha."

Sending Birds' Nests to City Children.—Mrs. Anthony W. Dimock, of Peekamose, New York, makes the following interesting report:

"The Robin Junior Audubon Circle is composed of the boys and girls of three district schools in a Catskill Mountain valley. No one school has enough pupils of required age to form a circle, and the distances between them are so great that frequent meetings cannot be held, but good work is being done.

"The most interesting feature of our work the past year was the collection of abandoned birds' nests in the autumn. One school of five pupils collected over 100 nests. From these collections two selections of ten nests each were made, to be sent to New York City. One collection went to the Jacob Riis Settlement, and one passed through the hands of three kindergartens, interesting 100 children. To each nest was attached a coloured picture of the bird {253} which had made the nest, and a description of its habits. Letters from the Settlement children and the kindergartners brought to the Circle expressions of delightful appreciation."

The National Association of Audubon Societies, with headquarters at 1974 Broadway, New York City, makes the following offer of assistance to those teachers and others who are interested in giving instruction to children on the subject of birds and their usefulness.

To form a Junior Audubon Class for bird study, a teacher should explain to the pupils of her grade (and others if desired) that their object will be to learn all they can about the wild birds, and that every one who becomes a member will be expected to be kind to the birds and protect them. Every member will be required to pay a fee of ten cents each year. When ten or more have paid their fees, the teacher will send their money to the National Association, and give the name of the Audubon Class and her own name and address. The {254} Association will then forward to the teacher for each member whose fee has been paid, the beautiful Audubon button, and a set of ten coloured pictures, together with the outline drawings and descriptive leaflets assigned to class study for that year. The teacher will also receive, free of cost, for one year, the splendid magazine Bird-Lore, which contains many valuable suggestions for teachers. It is expected that the teacher shall give at least one lesson a month on the subject of birds, for which purpose she will find the leaflets of great value as a basis for the lessons.

Rules for a Bird Study Class.—If the teacher wishes, the Audubon Class may have a regular organization, and a pupil may preside upon the occasions when the class is discussing a lesson. For this purpose the following simple constitution is suggested:

Article 1. The organization shall be known as the (give name) Junior Audubon Class.

Article 2. The object of its members shall be to learn all they can about wild birds, and to try to save any from being wantonly killed.

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Article 3. The officers shall consist of a President, Secretary, and Treasurer.

Article 4. The annual fees of the class shall be 10 cents for each member; and the money shall be sent to the National Association of Audubon Societies in exchange for Educational Leaflets and Audubon Buttons.

Article 5. The Junior Audubon Class shall have at least one meeting every month.

Although most of these classes have been and will be formed among pupils in schools, any one may form a class of children anywhere, and receive the privileges offered.

Subjects for Study.—Besides the study of the particular birds in the leaflets, the following subjects may be studied with profit:

Birds' Nests.—In the fall, after all the birds have left their nests, the nests may be collected and brought to the schoolroom. Study them and learn that the Chipping Sparrow's nest is made of fine rootlets and grasses, and is lined with horsehair; {256} examine the mud cup of the Robin's nest, the soft lining of the Loggerhead Shrike's nest, etc.

Feeding Birds.—In winter arrange "bird tables" in the trees and by the windows, and place crumbs and seeds on them; in summer put out bathing and drinking pans, note what birds come to them and how frequently, and report what you observe to the class.

Nesting Boxes.—In early spring put up nesting boxes for Bluebirds, Wrens, Chickadees, Nuthatches, Martins, and other birds. The leaflets sent will be found to contain many suggestions about bird feeding and nesting boxes, and the proper way to make and place the latter.

Colouring Outlines.—The children, using crayons or water-colour paint, may place the natural colours of the birds upon the outline drawings provided, using the coloured plates for comparison. This is one of the best ways to fasten in the memory the appearance of the birds, and thus quickly learn to recognize them in the field. Many teachers have utilized this as an exercise for the regular drawing hour.



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Teaching Children Approved by the Government.—Considering the importance of the subject and the success that the plan has met, it is little wonder that the Hon. P. P. Claxton, United States Commissioner of Education, early gave it his unqualified endorsement. In one letter he wrote:

"I consider the work of the Junior Audubon {258} Classes very important for both educational and economic results, and I congratulate you upon the opportunity of extending it. The bird clause in the Mosaic Law ends with the words: 'That it may be well with thee, and that thou mayest prolong thy days.' The principle still holds. I hope that through your efforts the American people may soon be better informed in regard to our wild birds and their value."

In America we have neglected the subject of protecting our bird life, and as a result in many sections we are suffering to-day from scourges of insects. Too long the careless and thoughtless have been allowed to wander aimlessly afield and shoot the birds that caused the winds of prosperity to blow. We must teach the children to avoid the errors that we have made. It is our duty to the child to give him of our best, and teach him with all his getting to get understanding.

THE END