VII

Are there birds that do not sing?What is the attitude of other birds to the owl?Is any country too cold, or any too warm, for birds?Have birds individuality?What is the largest bird of North America?The smallest?What laws has your state made about birds?Ought the "government to own" the birds? (That is, make laws for their protection.)Is the blue jay wicked?What birds walk?Do birds travel at night, during their migrations?

Are there birds that do not sing?

What is the attitude of other birds to the owl?

Is any country too cold, or any too warm, for birds?

Have birds individuality?

What is the largest bird of North America?

The smallest?

What laws has your state made about birds?

Ought the "government to own" the birds? (That is, make laws for their protection.)

Is the blue jay wicked?

What birds walk?

Do birds travel at night, during their migrations?

Beginning in March, note for several days the different kinds of birds you see, which were not seen the day before. Make at least two observations daily, one in the morning and one after school. When is the greater number of new birds seen, in the morning or in the afternoon? Or, if you live in a comparatively quiet neighborhood, even in a large city, go out at night and listen for bird sounds in the air. You need not go far to make this trial—your own back door "opens into all outdoors."

What states have established a Bird Day by law?Is woman cruel or only thoughtless?Do robins raise more than one brood in a season? If so, do they use the same nest twice? If they raise two broods, what becomes of the first, while the mother is sitting upon the eggs for the second?

What states have established a Bird Day by law?

Is woman cruel or only thoughtless?

Do robins raise more than one brood in a season? If so, do they use the same nest twice? If they raise two broods, what becomes of the first, while the mother is sitting upon the eggs for the second?

Watch for a robin leading out his family. Notice the feeding, after the birds are large enough to run and fly fairly well. The young birds are placed apart, and kept apart by the parent, who visits each one in turn, and rebukes any who tries to be piggish, sometimes rapping it with his bill when it runs out of turn. Notice this parent teaching the young to sing. It is a very interesting sight.

What birds have you heard sing at night?

More birds sing at night than is commonly supposed. The female robin calls to her mate frequently during the night, and he responds with a song. The catbird also sings at night. Last May one was heard to sing three nights in succession from eleven o'clock until daylight in response to little complaining calls from his mate. The song sparrow, warblers, and many other birds sing at night. Their songs at these times sound as if the bird were sleepy and reluctant to sing, or as if he were startled and were hurrying through the performance. Make a note of songs heard at night and try to determine the cause. Learn to distinguish the call of the female from the song of the male.

The kinds of nests.—What birds are weavers? What ones are masons or plasterers? What ones are tailors, in the construction of their nests?

Find a pair of birds engaged in nest building; robins may generally be found. Learn to distinguish the male from the female in appearance, as well as voice. Notice what materials they are using. Which bird takes the lead in building? What does the other bird do? Does he ever carry material, or does he simply act as escort? Does he ever protect his mate from other birds?

Write this out, carefully drawing your conclusions from your own observations. After the young birds have left the nest and have no further use for it, you may take the nest and examine it closely. You will find that while there is a similarity in the nests of the same kind of birds, they differ considerably in the materials of which they are composed. For example, the typical robin's nest consists of straws and hairs plastered together with mud and lined with some soft material, but others have been found made entirely of raveled rope; others of carpet rags. The bird evidently is not guided in this matter by blind instinct, but uses its reason in adapting materials that are at hand.

If you are fortunate you may find a pair of orioles building their nest. Place some bright-colored yarn or string in pieces of convenient length where the birds will see them. Some of them are almost sure to be woven into the nest. The oriole's nest may be attached to a limb by two or more cords; if it is, notice how it is prevented from swinging by side ropes. You will find it guyed against the prevailing winds. The oriole frequently ties several twigs together, and so uses these to suspend his nest. Notice the nest pouch; those built near houses are quite shallow; those near forests are much deeper. Can you tell why?

The wings of birds.—Describe the different kinds, as short and round, or long and slender, and the effect of the wing-shape upon the bird's motion in the air. Describe the flights of different birds.

Songs of birds.—Write the syllables which seem to you to express the different songs of birds. Notice the different songs of the same bird. A song sparrow was observed to have twelve different songs. He sang each one several times over, as if each song had a number of verses. Then changing his position, he would sing another. To most ears the robin's song is always the same, but close attention discovers that there are variations. Many birds are genuine musicians and compose as they sing, not having formal songs.

Free description of birds.—Write description of some bird of your acquaintance, noting the following:—

Its appearance.—Color, gait, flight, size from tip of beak to end of tail, spread of wings.

Its common name.—Why given?

Time of arrival and departure.

Character.—Is it trustful, or shy and retiring?

Song.—Season when song is most frequent, also times of day. Does it consist of many or only a few notes? Is it cheery, like the robin's, or tuneful, like the thrush's, or rollicking and rapturous, like the bobolink's, or a Romanza, like the catbird's? Notice the different emotion sounds, the notes of fear, of parental or conjugal reprimand, of joy, of anger, of deep sorrow, made by the bird at times.

Food.—Insects (kinds), seeds, fruit, etc.

Nest.—Where placed, how made?

Incidents.—From the writer's knowledge of the bird.

This bird in literature.—What writers have described, what poets have immortalized him? How did they characterize him?

Some of the following books are almost indispensable to one who wishes to know the birds:—

"Wake Robin," John Burroughs; "Birds and Poets," John Burroughs; "The Birds and Seasons of New England," Wilson Flagg; "Upland and Meadow," Charles C. Abbott; "Bird Ways," Olive Thorne Miller; "Birds through an Opera Glass," Florence A. Merriam; "Birds in the Bush," Bradford Torrey; "The Birds About Us," Charles C. Abbott; "From Blomidon to Smoky," Frank Bolles.

Recent magazines should be searched and the current ones scrutinized for articles by any of the above-named writers.

Destruction of birds.—Find out how many birds are annually slaughtered in the United States, and for what purposes.

In the report of the American Ornithologist Union published in 1886, it was estimated that about five million birds were annually required to fill the demand for the ornamentation of the hats of the American women. In 1896 it was estimated that the number thus used was ten million. "The slaughter is not confined to song-birds; everything that wears feathers is a target for the bird butcher. The destruction of 40,000 terns in a single season on Cape Cod, a million rail and reed birds (bobolinks) killed in a single month near Philadelphia, are facts that may well furnish food for reflection. The swamps and marshes of Florida are well known to have become depopulated of their egrets and herons, while the state at large has been for years a favorite slaughter ground of the milliners' emissaries." An article inForest and Stream, speaking of the destruction of birds on Long Island, states that during a short period of four months 20,000 were supplied to the New York dealers from a single village.

The Audubon Society of Massachusetts has looked up the figures and reports that "it is proved that into England alone between 25,000,000 and 30,000,000 birds are imported yearly, and that for Europe the number reaches 150,000,000. Hence, the fashionable craze has annually demanded between 200,000,000 and 300,000,000 birds. From the East Indies alone a dealer in London received 400,000 humming birds, 6,000 birds of paradise, and 400,000 miscellaneous birds. In an auction room, also in London, within four months, over 800,000 East and West Indian and Brazilian bird skins, besides thousands of pheasants and birds of paradise, were put up for sale."

This demand for birds has been going on for a quarter of a century,and billions of rich-plumaged creatures have been slaughtered to meet it, and several of the feathered tribes have been exterminated.

Write to the following for literature upon the destruction of birds:—

Humane Education Committee, 61 Westminster Street, Providence, R. I.; George T. Angell, Boston, Mass.; Secretary of the Massachusetts Audubon Society, Boston, Mass.; Secretary of the New York Audubon Society at New York; Secretary of the Department of Agriculture, Washington, D. C.; Secretary of the Audubon Society of Pennsylvania at Philadelphia; also write to the Department of Agriculture of your own state.

A Bird Day exercise, in order to have much value educationally, should be largely the result of the pupils' previous work, and should not be the mere repetition of a prepared program taken verbatim from some paper or leaflet. It is, of course, better to have the pupils recite this leaflet or list of statements than it would be to have it ground out of a phonograph. The program should be prepared by the pupils under direction of the teacher.

The following general suggestions are offered:—

1. For the first observance of this day by a school it would be well to have some pupil read Senator Hoar's petition of the birds to the Legislature of Massachusetts.

PETITION OF THE BIRDS

Written by Senator Hoar to the Massachusetts Legislature

The petition which was instrumental in getting the Massachusetts law passed, prohibiting the wearing of song and insectivorous birds on women's hats, was written by Senator Hoar. The petition read as follows:—

To the Great and General Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts: We, the song birds of Massachusetts and their playfellows, make this our humble petition. We know more about you than you think we do. We know how good you are. We have hopped about the roofs and looked in at your windows of the houses you havebuilt for poor and sick and hungry people, and little lame and deaf and blind children. We have built our nests in the trees and sung many a song as we flew about the gardens and parks you have made so beautiful for your children, especially your poor children to play in. Every year we fly a great way over the country, keeping all the time where the sun is bright and warm. And we know that whenever you do anything the other people all over this great land between the seas and the Great Lakes find it out, and pretty soon will try to do the same. We know. We know.We are Americans just the same as you are. Some of us, like you, came across the great sea. But most of the birds like us have lived here a long while; and the birds like us welcomed your fathers when they came here many, many years ago. Our fathers and mothers have always done their best to please your fathers and mothers.Now we have a sad story to tell you. Thoughtless or bad people are trying to destroy us. They kill us because our feathers are beautiful. Even pretty and sweet girls, who we should think would be our best friends, kill our brothers and children so that they may wear our plumage on their hats. Sometimes people kill us for mere wantonness. Cruel boys destroy our nests and steal our eggs and our young ones. People with guns and snares lie in wait to kill us; as if the place for a bird were not in the sky, alive, but in a shop window or in a glass case. If this goes on much longer all our song birds will be gone. Already we are told in some other countries that used to be full of birds, they are now almost gone. Even the nightingales are being killed in Italy.Now we humbly pray that you will stop all this and will save us from this sad fate. You have already made a law that no one shall kill a harmless song bird or destroy our nests or our eggs. Will you please make another one that no one shall wear our feathers, so that no one shall kill us to get them? We want them all ourselves. Your pretty girls are pretty enough without them. We are told that it is as easy for you to do it as for a blackbird to whistle.If you will, we know how to pay you a hundred times over. We will teach your children to keep themselves clean and neat. We will show them how to live together in peace and love and to agree as we do in our nests. We will build pretty houses which you will like to see. We will play about your garden and flower beds—ourselves like flowers on wings, without any cost to you. We will destroy the wicked insects and worms that spoil your cherries and currants and plums and apples and roses. We will give you our best songs, and make the spring more beautiful and the summer sweeter to you. Every June morning when you go out into the field, oriole and bluebird and blackbird and bobolink will fly after you and make the daymore delightful to you. And when you go home tired after sundown, vesper sparrow will tell you how grateful we are. When you sit down on your porch after dark, fifebird and hermit thrush and wood thrush will sing to you; and even whip-poor-will will cheer you up a little. We know where we are safe. In a little while all the birds will come to live in Massachusetts again, and everybody who loves music will like to make a summer home with you.

We are Americans just the same as you are. Some of us, like you, came across the great sea. But most of the birds like us have lived here a long while; and the birds like us welcomed your fathers when they came here many, many years ago. Our fathers and mothers have always done their best to please your fathers and mothers.

Now we have a sad story to tell you. Thoughtless or bad people are trying to destroy us. They kill us because our feathers are beautiful. Even pretty and sweet girls, who we should think would be our best friends, kill our brothers and children so that they may wear our plumage on their hats. Sometimes people kill us for mere wantonness. Cruel boys destroy our nests and steal our eggs and our young ones. People with guns and snares lie in wait to kill us; as if the place for a bird were not in the sky, alive, but in a shop window or in a glass case. If this goes on much longer all our song birds will be gone. Already we are told in some other countries that used to be full of birds, they are now almost gone. Even the nightingales are being killed in Italy.

Now we humbly pray that you will stop all this and will save us from this sad fate. You have already made a law that no one shall kill a harmless song bird or destroy our nests or our eggs. Will you please make another one that no one shall wear our feathers, so that no one shall kill us to get them? We want them all ourselves. Your pretty girls are pretty enough without them. We are told that it is as easy for you to do it as for a blackbird to whistle.

If you will, we know how to pay you a hundred times over. We will teach your children to keep themselves clean and neat. We will show them how to live together in peace and love and to agree as we do in our nests. We will build pretty houses which you will like to see. We will play about your garden and flower beds—ourselves like flowers on wings, without any cost to you. We will destroy the wicked insects and worms that spoil your cherries and currants and plums and apples and roses. We will give you our best songs, and make the spring more beautiful and the summer sweeter to you. Every June morning when you go out into the field, oriole and bluebird and blackbird and bobolink will fly after you and make the daymore delightful to you. And when you go home tired after sundown, vesper sparrow will tell you how grateful we are. When you sit down on your porch after dark, fifebird and hermit thrush and wood thrush will sing to you; and even whip-poor-will will cheer you up a little. We know where we are safe. In a little while all the birds will come to live in Massachusetts again, and everybody who loves music will like to make a summer home with you.

The signers are:—Brown Thrasher,Robert o' Lincoln,Hermit Thrush,Vesper Sparrow,Robin Redbreast,Song Sparrow,Scarlet Tanager,Summer Redbird,Blue Heron,Humming Bird,Yellowbird,Whip-poor-will,Water Wagtail,Woodpecker,Pigeon Woodpecker,Indigo Bird,Yellowthroat,Wilson's Thrush,Chickadee,Kingbird,Swallow,Cedar Bird,Cowbird,Martin,Veery,Chewink,Vireo,Oriole,Blackbird,Fifebird,Wren,Linnet,Pewee,Phœbe,Yoke Bird,Lark,Sandpiper.

The signers are:—

Brown Thrasher,Robert o' Lincoln,Hermit Thrush,Vesper Sparrow,Robin Redbreast,Song Sparrow,Scarlet Tanager,Summer Redbird,Blue Heron,Humming Bird,Yellowbird,Whip-poor-will,Water Wagtail,Woodpecker,Pigeon Woodpecker,Indigo Bird,Yellowthroat,Wilson's Thrush,Chickadee,Kingbird,Swallow,Cedar Bird,Cowbird,Martin,Veery,Chewink,Vireo,Oriole,Blackbird,Fifebird,Wren,Linnet,Pewee,Phœbe,Yoke Bird,Lark,Sandpiper.

It should be noted that the result of this petition was the passage of a law by the Legislature of Massachusetts forbidding the wearing of parts of wild birds. A bill forbidding the transportation of feathers or the skins of birds from one state to another was also introduced by Senator Hoar in the United States Senate.

2. At this first exercise it would be well to have read "Our New Neighbors at Ponkapog," by T. B. Aldrich.

3. The best essays that have been written by the pupils during their preliminary study may be given. If the school has not made this preliminary study, select subjects and have essays written according to the directions already given, allowing as much time as possible for original observations.

4. Have recitations from the poets. These will add a peculiar charm to the occasion. A short list of suitable poems will be given. Manyothers may be found in a book called "Voices of the Speechless," published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

The works of John Burroughs, Bradford Torrey, Maurice Thompson, Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller, and Dr. C. C. Abbott abound in passages which are excellent for recitation. It is surprising how familiar the best-known novelists have been and are with birds. In appreciation of them they are second only to the poets. Charles Reade's description of the lark's song in the mines of Australia, in "Never Too Late to Mend," is an inspiring recitation.

5. Short quotations from well known authors should be given, if possible, by every pupil in the school. We give a few taken almost at random:—

Away over the hayfield the lark floated in the blue, making the air quiver with his singing; the robin, perched on a fence, looked at us saucily and piped a few notes by way of remark; the blackbird was heard, flute-throated, down in the hollow recesses of the wood; and the thrush, in a holly tree by the wayside, sang out his sweet, clear song that seemed to rise in strength as the wind awoke a sudden rustling through the long woods of birch and oak.—William Black, inAdventures of a Phaeton.We seemed to hear all the sounds within a great compass—in the hedges and in the roadside trees, far away in woods or hidden up in the level grayness of the clouds: twi, twi, trrrr-weet!—droom, droom, phloee!—tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck, feer!—that was the silvery chorus from thousands of throats. It seemed to us that all the fields and hedges had but one voice, and that it was clear and sweet and piercing.—William Black,Ibid.Silvia could hear the twittering of the young starlings in their nests as their parents went and came carrying food, and the loud and joyful "tirr-a-wee, tirr-a-wee, prooit, tweet!" of the thrushes, and the low currooing of the wood pigeon, and the soft call of the cuckoo, that seemed to come in whenever an interval of silence fitted. The swallows dipped and flashed and circled over the bosom of the lake. There were blackbirds eagerly but cautiously at work, with their spasmodic trippings, on the lawn. A robin perched on the iron railing eyed her curiously and seemed more disposed to approach than to retreat.—William Black, inGreen Pastures and Piccadilly.A jay fled screaming through the wood, just one brief glimpse of brilliant blue being visible.—William Black,Ibid.And as they came near to one dark patch of shrubbery, lo! the strange silence was burst asunder by the rich, full song of a nightingale.—William Black,Ibid.A sudden sound sprang into the night, flooding all its darkness with its rich and piercing melody—a joyous, clear, full-throated note, deep-gurgling now, and again rising with thrills and tremors into bursts of far-reaching silver song that seemed to shake the hollow air. A single nightingale had filled the woods with life. We cared no more for those distant and silent stars. It was enough to sit here in the gracious quiet and listen to the eager tremulous outpouring of this honeyed sound.—William Black, inStrange Adventures of a House-Boat.Shoot and eat my birds! The next step beyond, and one would hanker after Jenny Lind or Miss Kellogg.—Henry Ward Beecher.There on the very topmost twig, that rises and falls with willowy motion, sits that ridiculous, sweet-singing bobolink, singing as a Roman candle fizzes, showers of sparkling notes.—Ibid.

We seemed to hear all the sounds within a great compass—in the hedges and in the roadside trees, far away in woods or hidden up in the level grayness of the clouds: twi, twi, trrrr-weet!—droom, droom, phloee!—tuck, tuck, tuck, tuck, feer!—that was the silvery chorus from thousands of throats. It seemed to us that all the fields and hedges had but one voice, and that it was clear and sweet and piercing.—William Black,Ibid.

Silvia could hear the twittering of the young starlings in their nests as their parents went and came carrying food, and the loud and joyful "tirr-a-wee, tirr-a-wee, prooit, tweet!" of the thrushes, and the low currooing of the wood pigeon, and the soft call of the cuckoo, that seemed to come in whenever an interval of silence fitted. The swallows dipped and flashed and circled over the bosom of the lake. There were blackbirds eagerly but cautiously at work, with their spasmodic trippings, on the lawn. A robin perched on the iron railing eyed her curiously and seemed more disposed to approach than to retreat.—William Black, inGreen Pastures and Piccadilly.

A jay fled screaming through the wood, just one brief glimpse of brilliant blue being visible.—William Black,Ibid.

And as they came near to one dark patch of shrubbery, lo! the strange silence was burst asunder by the rich, full song of a nightingale.—William Black,Ibid.

A sudden sound sprang into the night, flooding all its darkness with its rich and piercing melody—a joyous, clear, full-throated note, deep-gurgling now, and again rising with thrills and tremors into bursts of far-reaching silver song that seemed to shake the hollow air. A single nightingale had filled the woods with life. We cared no more for those distant and silent stars. It was enough to sit here in the gracious quiet and listen to the eager tremulous outpouring of this honeyed sound.—William Black, inStrange Adventures of a House-Boat.

Shoot and eat my birds! The next step beyond, and one would hanker after Jenny Lind or Miss Kellogg.—Henry Ward Beecher.

There on the very topmost twig, that rises and falls with willowy motion, sits that ridiculous, sweet-singing bobolink, singing as a Roman candle fizzes, showers of sparkling notes.—Ibid.

This poet affirms that our bobolink is superior to the nightingale:—

Bobolink, that in the meadow,Or beneath the orchard's shadow,Keepest up a constant rattleJoyous as my children's prattle,Welcome to the North again,Welcome to mine ear thy strain,Welcome to mine eye the sightOf thy buff, thy black and white.Brighter plumes may greet the sunBy the banks of Amazon;Sweeter tones may weave the spellOf enchanting Philomel;But the tropic bird would fail,And the English nightingale,If we should compare their worthWith thine endless, gushing mirth.

—Thomas Hill.

The mocking bird is a singer that has suffered much from its powers of mimicry. On ordinary occasions, and especially in the daytime, it insists on playing the harlequin. But when free in its own favorite haunts at night, it has a song, or rather songs, which are not only purely original, but are also more beautiful than any other bird music whatsoever. Once I listened to a mocking bird singing the livelong spring night, under the full moon, in a magnolia tree; and I do not think I shall ever forget its song.The great tree was bathed in a flood of shining silver; I could see each twig, and mark every action of the singer, who was pouring forth such a rapture of ringing melody as I have never listened to before or since. Sometimes he would perch motionless for many minutes, his body quivering and thrilling with the outpour of music. Then he would drop softly from twig to twig till the lowest limb was reached, when he would rise, fluttering and leaping through the branches, his song never ceasing for an instant until he reached the summit of the tree and launched into the warm scent-laden air, floating in spirals, with outspread wings, until, as if spent, he sank gently back into the tree and down through the branches, while his song rose into an ecstasy of ardor and passion. His voice rang like a clarionet in rich, full tones, and his execution covered the widest possible compass; theme followed theme, a torrent of music, a swelling tide of harmony, in which scarcely any two bars were alike. I stayed till midnight listening to him; he was singing when I went to sleep; he was still singing when I woke a couple of hours later; he sang through the livelong night.—Theodore Roosevelt.Amid the thunders of Sinai God uttered the rights of cattle, and said that they should have a Sabbath. "Thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy cattle." He declared with infinite emphasis that the ox on the threshing-floor should have the privilege of eating some of the grain as he trod it out, and muzzling was forbidden. If young birds were taken from the nest for food, the despoiler's life depended on the mother going free. God would not let the mother-bird suffer in one day the loss of her young and her own liberty. And he who regarded in olden time the conduct of man toward the brutes, to-day looks down from heaven and is interested in every minnow that swims the stream, and every rook that cleaves the air.—DeWitt Talmage, D.D.And how refreshing is the sight of the birdless bonnet! The face beneath, no matter how plain it may be, seems to possess a gentle charm. She might have had birds, this woman, for they are cheap enough and plentiful enough, heaven knows; but she has them not, therefore she must wear within things infinitely precious, namely, good sense, good taste, good feeling. Does any woman imagine these withered corpses (cured with arsenic), which she loves to carry about, are beautiful? Not so; the birds lost their beauty with their lives.—Celia Thaxter.I walked up my garden path as I was coming home from shooting. My dog ran on before me; suddenly he went slower and crept carefully forward as if he scented game. I looked along the path and perceived a young sparrow, with its downy head and yellow bill. It had fallen from a nest (the wind was blowing hard through the young birch trees beside the path) and was sprawling motionless, helpless, on the ground, with its little wings outspread. My dog crept softly up to it, when suddenly an old black-breasted sparrow threw himself down from a neighboring tree and let himself fall like a stone directly under the dog's nose, and, with ruffled feathers, sprang with a terrified twitter several times against his open, threatening mouth. He had flown down to protect his young at the sacrifice of himself. His little body trembled all over, his cry was hoarse, he was frightened to death; but he sacrificed himself. My dog must have seemed to him a gigantic monster, but for all that, he could not stay on his high, safe branch. A power stronger than himself drove him down. My dog stopped and drew back; it seemed as if he, too, respected this power. I hastened to call back the amazed dog, and reverently withdrew. Yes, don't laugh; I felt a reverence for this little hero of a bird, with his paternal love.Love, thought I, is mightier than death and the fear of death; love alone inspires and is the life of all.—Ivan Tourgueneff.The first sparrow of spring! The year beginning with younger hope than ever! The faint, silvery warblings heard over the partially bare and moist fields from the bluebird, the song sparrow, and the redwing, as if the last flakes of winter tinkled as they fell!—H. D. Thoreau.I heard a robin in the distance, the first I had heard for many a thousand years, methought, whose note I shall not forget for many a thousand more,—the same sweet, powerful song as of yore.—Ibid.Walden is melting apace. A great field of ice has cracked off from the main body. I hear a song sparrow from the bushes on the shore,—olit, olit, olit—chip, chip, chip, che char—che wis, wis, wis. He, too, is helping to crack the ice.—Ibid.The bluebird carries the sky on his back.—Ibid.

The great tree was bathed in a flood of shining silver; I could see each twig, and mark every action of the singer, who was pouring forth such a rapture of ringing melody as I have never listened to before or since. Sometimes he would perch motionless for many minutes, his body quivering and thrilling with the outpour of music. Then he would drop softly from twig to twig till the lowest limb was reached, when he would rise, fluttering and leaping through the branches, his song never ceasing for an instant until he reached the summit of the tree and launched into the warm scent-laden air, floating in spirals, with outspread wings, until, as if spent, he sank gently back into the tree and down through the branches, while his song rose into an ecstasy of ardor and passion. His voice rang like a clarionet in rich, full tones, and his execution covered the widest possible compass; theme followed theme, a torrent of music, a swelling tide of harmony, in which scarcely any two bars were alike. I stayed till midnight listening to him; he was singing when I went to sleep; he was still singing when I woke a couple of hours later; he sang through the livelong night.—Theodore Roosevelt.

Amid the thunders of Sinai God uttered the rights of cattle, and said that they should have a Sabbath. "Thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy cattle." He declared with infinite emphasis that the ox on the threshing-floor should have the privilege of eating some of the grain as he trod it out, and muzzling was forbidden. If young birds were taken from the nest for food, the despoiler's life depended on the mother going free. God would not let the mother-bird suffer in one day the loss of her young and her own liberty. And he who regarded in olden time the conduct of man toward the brutes, to-day looks down from heaven and is interested in every minnow that swims the stream, and every rook that cleaves the air.—DeWitt Talmage, D.D.

And how refreshing is the sight of the birdless bonnet! The face beneath, no matter how plain it may be, seems to possess a gentle charm. She might have had birds, this woman, for they are cheap enough and plentiful enough, heaven knows; but she has them not, therefore she must wear within things infinitely precious, namely, good sense, good taste, good feeling. Does any woman imagine these withered corpses (cured with arsenic), which she loves to carry about, are beautiful? Not so; the birds lost their beauty with their lives.—Celia Thaxter.

I walked up my garden path as I was coming home from shooting. My dog ran on before me; suddenly he went slower and crept carefully forward as if he scented game. I looked along the path and perceived a young sparrow, with its downy head and yellow bill. It had fallen from a nest (the wind was blowing hard through the young birch trees beside the path) and was sprawling motionless, helpless, on the ground, with its little wings outspread. My dog crept softly up to it, when suddenly an old black-breasted sparrow threw himself down from a neighboring tree and let himself fall like a stone directly under the dog's nose, and, with ruffled feathers, sprang with a terrified twitter several times against his open, threatening mouth. He had flown down to protect his young at the sacrifice of himself. His little body trembled all over, his cry was hoarse, he was frightened to death; but he sacrificed himself. My dog must have seemed to him a gigantic monster, but for all that, he could not stay on his high, safe branch. A power stronger than himself drove him down. My dog stopped and drew back; it seemed as if he, too, respected this power. I hastened to call back the amazed dog, and reverently withdrew. Yes, don't laugh; I felt a reverence for this little hero of a bird, with his paternal love.

Love, thought I, is mightier than death and the fear of death; love alone inspires and is the life of all.—Ivan Tourgueneff.

The first sparrow of spring! The year beginning with younger hope than ever! The faint, silvery warblings heard over the partially bare and moist fields from the bluebird, the song sparrow, and the redwing, as if the last flakes of winter tinkled as they fell!—H. D. Thoreau.

I heard a robin in the distance, the first I had heard for many a thousand years, methought, whose note I shall not forget for many a thousand more,—the same sweet, powerful song as of yore.—Ibid.

Walden is melting apace. A great field of ice has cracked off from the main body. I hear a song sparrow from the bushes on the shore,—olit, olit, olit—chip, chip, chip, che char—che wis, wis, wis. He, too, is helping to crack the ice.—Ibid.

The bluebird carries the sky on his back.—Ibid.

6. One of the most interesting features of a Bird Day program will be the personations of birds.

The following was given by a boy in the seventh grade:—

One day in February a gentleman and his wife stopped beside the wall of old Fort Marion, in St. Augustine, to listen to my song. The sun was shining brightly, and little white flowers were blooming in the green turf about the old fort. It was not time yet to build my nest, so I had nothing to do but sing and get my food and travel a little every day toward my Northern home.I am about as large as a robin, and although there is nothing brilliant in my plumage I am not a homely bird. I like the songs of other birds and sometimes sing them. I frequently sing like my cousins, the catbirds and robins and thrushes. But I have my own song, which is unlike all the others. My mate and I build a large nest of small sticks, pieces of string, cotton, and weeds, in thick bushes or low trees. We have five eggs that are greenish blue and spotted with brown. We eat many beetles, larvæ, and many kinds of insects which we find feeding upon plants. The worst enemy we have is man. He steals our children almost before we have taught them to sing, and puts them in cages. He is a monster.Many poems have been written about me. One of the finest is by Sidney Lanier, in which he calls me "yon trim Shakespeare on the tree."Any one who has heard my song can never forget me.What is my name?

I am about as large as a robin, and although there is nothing brilliant in my plumage I am not a homely bird. I like the songs of other birds and sometimes sing them. I frequently sing like my cousins, the catbirds and robins and thrushes. But I have my own song, which is unlike all the others. My mate and I build a large nest of small sticks, pieces of string, cotton, and weeds, in thick bushes or low trees. We have five eggs that are greenish blue and spotted with brown. We eat many beetles, larvæ, and many kinds of insects which we find feeding upon plants. The worst enemy we have is man. He steals our children almost before we have taught them to sing, and puts them in cages. He is a monster.

Many poems have been written about me. One of the finest is by Sidney Lanier, in which he calls me "yon trim Shakespeare on the tree."

Any one who has heard my song can never forget me.

What is my name?

7. Bird facts and proverbs form a valuable part of a program and may be given by some of the children. Let the pupils search for them and bring some similar to these:—

Birds flock together in hard times.A bird in the bush is worth two in the hand.The American robin is not the same bird as the English.The bluebird and robin may be harbingers of spring, but the swallow is the harbinger of summer.The dandelion tells me to look for the swallow; the dog-toothed violet when to expect the wood thrush.—John Burroughs.It is not thought that any one bird spends the year in one locality, but that all birds migrate, if only within a limited range.A loon was caught, by a set line for fishing, sixty-five feet below the surface of a lake in New York, having dived to that depth for a fish.The wood pewee, like its relative, the phœbe, feeds largely on the family of flies to which the house fly belongs.The birds of prey, the majority of which labor night and day to destroy the enemies of the husbandman, are unceasingly persecuted.Seventy-five per cent of the food of the downy woodpecker is insects.The cow blackbird lays its eggs in other birds' nests, one in a nest. What happens afterwards?Why should not a man love a bird? If the palm of one could clasp the pinion of the other, there would come together two of the greatest implements God and nature have ever given any two creatures to explore the world with, and when two bipeds gaze at each other, eye to eye, the intelligence in the one might well take off its hat to the subtle instincts in the other.—James Newton Baskett.A bird on the bonnet means so much less bread on the table. A bird in the orchard is a sort of scavenger and pomologist combined, and does his share in giving you a dish of fruit for dinner. The scarlet tanager looks like a living ruby in a green tree; but—I speak bluntly—it looks like a chunk of gore on a woman's bonnet. In behalf of good taste and the birds, I enter my protest against this barbarous Custom.—Leander T. Keyser.

Birds flock together in hard times.

A bird in the bush is worth two in the hand.

The American robin is not the same bird as the English.

The bluebird and robin may be harbingers of spring, but the swallow is the harbinger of summer.

The dandelion tells me to look for the swallow; the dog-toothed violet when to expect the wood thrush.—John Burroughs.

It is not thought that any one bird spends the year in one locality, but that all birds migrate, if only within a limited range.

A loon was caught, by a set line for fishing, sixty-five feet below the surface of a lake in New York, having dived to that depth for a fish.

The wood pewee, like its relative, the phœbe, feeds largely on the family of flies to which the house fly belongs.

The birds of prey, the majority of which labor night and day to destroy the enemies of the husbandman, are unceasingly persecuted.

Seventy-five per cent of the food of the downy woodpecker is insects.

The cow blackbird lays its eggs in other birds' nests, one in a nest. What happens afterwards?

Why should not a man love a bird? If the palm of one could clasp the pinion of the other, there would come together two of the greatest implements God and nature have ever given any two creatures to explore the world with, and when two bipeds gaze at each other, eye to eye, the intelligence in the one might well take off its hat to the subtle instincts in the other.—James Newton Baskett.

A bird on the bonnet means so much less bread on the table. A bird in the orchard is a sort of scavenger and pomologist combined, and does his share in giving you a dish of fruit for dinner. The scarlet tanager looks like a living ruby in a green tree; but—I speak bluntly—it looks like a chunk of gore on a woman's bonnet. In behalf of good taste and the birds, I enter my protest against this barbarous Custom.—Leander T. Keyser.

What does it cost, this garniture of death?It costs the life which God alone can give;It costs dull silence, where was music's breath;It costs dead joy, that foolish pride may live.Ah, life, and joy, and song, depend upon it,Are costly trimmings for a woman's bonnet.

—May Riley Smith.

The program may be diversified by songs about birds. Many suitable for this occasion will be found in a collection called "Songs of Happy Life," made by Sarah J. Eddy. It is published by the Nature Study Publishing Company, of Providence, R. I.

"The birds are the poets' own," says Burroughs. How could it be otherwise? The bird, with his large brain, quick circulation, and high temperature, is possessed of a tropical, ecstatic soul that blossoms into music as naturally as a bulb bursts into bloom and fragrance. He is a creature of marvelous inheritance. Poetry is a true bird-land, where you shall hear the birds as often as in any meadow or orchard on a May morning. All poets have been their lovers, from the psalmist of old, who knew "all the birds of the mountains," to our own Lowell with his "Gladness on wings—the bobolink is here."

The poets, who voice our deepest thoughts, have studied birds with the utmost care. It is astonishing to note the mention made of them in the pages of Browning, Tennyson, and in fact of every great maker of verse. Not merely as adjuncts of the landscape are they mentioned, but with intensity of feeling, as in William Watson's poem on his recovery from temporary loss of mind—one of the most pathetic poems ever written—where he thanks the Heavenly Power for letting him feel once again at home in nature and again related to the birds and to human life. Dr. Van Dyke's wish that, when his twilight hour is come, he "may hear the wood note of the veery" finds response in the heart of every one who has listened to that song. Frequently the poet seems to have entered into the life of the bird and to have found his inner secret, as Keats in the "Ode to a Nightingale":—

Immortal bird, thou wast not born for death,No hungry generations tread thee down.

Sometimes the words seem to have caught the rhythm and ripple of the song, as in Browning's reference to the thrush:—

The wise thrush, he sings each song twice over,Lest you think he never could recaptureThat first fine careless rapture.

Or the bird's voice may be so suggestive as to lead the seer to the very limits of thought and aspiration, like Shelley's "Skylark." As we need the help of the naturalists, who see more accurately than we, we also need the assistance of the poet's clearer vision, with its wider and deeper sweep. How completely Sidney Lanier summed up the mocking bird! and how much more pleasing is the bird in the tree because of the bird in the poem:—

Superb and sole, upon a plumèd sprayThat o'er the general leafage boldly grew,He summed the woods in song; or typic drewThe watch of hungry hawks, the lone dismayOf languid doves when long their lovers stray,And all birds' passion plays that sprinkle dewAt morn in brake or bosky avenue.Whate'er birds did or dreamed, this bird could say.Then down he shot, bounced airily alongThe sward, twitched in a grasshopper, made songMidflight, perched, prinked, and to his art again.Sweet science, this large riddle read me plain:—How may the death of that dull insect beThe life of yon trim Shakespeare on the tree?

Recitations from the poets should be a prominent feature of Bird Day exercises. Readings and studies of poems about birds may be very profitably made a part of the literary work of the year.

The following poems are suitable for recitation and study:—

"The Birds' Orchestra," Celia Thaxter; "The Robin," Celia Thaxter; "The Song Sparrow," Celia Thaxter; "The Blackbird," Alice Cary; "The Raven's Shadow," William Watson; "On Seeing a Wild Bird," Alice Cary; "What Sees the Owl?" Elizabeth S. Bates; "Lament of a Mocking Bird," Frances Anne Kemble; "The Snow-bird," Dora Read Goodale; "To a Seabird," Bret Harte; "The Rain Song of the Robin," Kate Upson Clark; "The Swallow," Owen Meredith; "A Bird at Sunset," Owen Meredith; "The Titlark's Nest," Owen Meredith; "The Dead Eagle," Campbell; "Ode to a Nightingale," John Keats; "What the Birds Said," John Greenleaf Whittier; "The Sandpiper," Celia Thaxter; "The Blackbird and the Rooks," Dinah Mulock Craik; "The Canary in his Cage," Dinah Mulock Craik; "The Falcon," James Russell Lowell; "The Titmouse," Ralph Waldo Emerson; "The Stormy Petrel," Barry Cornwall; "To the Skylark," Percy Bysshe Shelley; "The O'Lincoln Family," Wilson Flagg; "To a Waterfowl," William Cullen Bryant; "Robert of Lincoln," William Cullen Bryant; "The Return of the Birds," William Cullen Bryant, "The Eagle," Alfred Tennyson; "To the Eagle," James G. Percival; "The Forerunner," Harriet Prescott Spofford; "The Skylark," James Hogg; "To the Skylark," William Wordsworth; "Sir Robin," Lucy Larcom; "The Pewee," J. T. Trowbridge; "The Yellowbird," Celia Thaxter "The Dying Swan," Alfred Tennyson; "Story of a Blackbird," Alice Cary; "The Blue Jay," Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney; "The Song Sparrow," Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney; "The Catbird," Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney; "Sparrows," Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney; "The Ovenbird," Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney; "The Vireos," Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney; "The Ovenbird," Frank Bolles; "Whip-poor-will," Frank Bolles; "The Veery," Henry Van Dyke; "The Song Sparrow," Henry Van Dyke; "The Wings of a Dove," Henry Van Dyke; "The Whip-poor-will," Henry Van Dyke; "To the Cuckoo," William Wordsworth; "Secrets," Susan Coolidge; "The Falcon," James Russell Lowell; "The Mocking Bird," Sidney Lanier; "Forbearance," Ralph Waldo Emerson; "The Mocking Bird,"Clinton Scollard; "The Mocking Bird," Maurice Thompson; "The Mocking Bird," R. H. Wilde; "The Mocking Bird," A. B. Meek; "The Mocking Bird," Albert Pike; "The Song of the Thrush," Edward Markham.

This list can of course be indefinitely extended.

IN CHURCH

Just in front of my pew sits a maiden—A little brown wing on her hat,With its touches of tropical azure,And sheen of the sun upon that.Through the bloom-colored pane shines a gloryBy which the vast shadows are stirred,But I pine for the spirit and splendorThat painted the wing of the bird.The organ rolls down its great anthem;With the soul of a song it is blent;But for me, I am sick for the singingOf one little song that is spent.The voice of the curate is gentle:"No sparrow shall fall to the ground;"But the poor broken wing on the bonnetIs mocking the merciful sound.

Just in front of my pew sits a maiden—A little brown wing on her hat,With its touches of tropical azure,And sheen of the sun upon that.

Through the bloom-colored pane shines a gloryBy which the vast shadows are stirred,But I pine for the spirit and splendorThat painted the wing of the bird.

The organ rolls down its great anthem;With the soul of a song it is blent;But for me, I am sick for the singingOf one little song that is spent.

The voice of the curate is gentle:"No sparrow shall fall to the ground;"But the poor broken wing on the bonnetIs mocking the merciful sound.

—Anonymous.

The general observance of a "Bird Day" in our schools would probably do more to open thousands of young minds to the reception of bird lore than anything else that can be devised. The scattered interests of the children would thus be brought together, and fused into a large and compact enthusiasm, which would become the common property of all. Zeal in a genuine cause is more contagious than a bad habit.

The first Bird Day in the schools was celebrated on the first Friday in May, 1894. This is as good a date as any for the sections not in the extreme North or South.

It would better come a little after the birds begin to arrive. The afternoon session will be found sufficient to devote to the special exercises. The date should be announced some time beforehand, so that the children may prepare for it. They will not only prepare themselves, but will have the whole community aroused by the sharp points of their inquisitorial weapons. Exercises should be held in all grades, from the primary to the high school.

We quote the following from circular No. 17 sent out by the United States Department of Agriculture:—

OBJECT OF BIRD DAY

From all sides come reports of a decrease in native birds, due to the clearing of the forests, draining of the swamps, and cultivation of lands, but especially to the increasing slaughter of birds for game, the demand for feathers to supply the millinery trade, and the breaking up of nests to gratify the egg-collecting proclivities of small boys. An attempt has been made to restrict these latter causesby legislation. Nearly every State and Territory has passed game laws, and several States have statutes protecting insectivorous birds. Such laws are frequently changed and cannot be expected to accomplish much unless supported by popular sentiment in favor of bird protection. This object can only be attained by demonstrating to the people the value of birds, and how can it be accomplished better than through the medium of the schools?Briefly stated, the object of Bird Day is to diffuse knowledge concerning our native birds and to arouse a more general interest in bird protection. As such it should appeal not only to ornithologists, sportsmen, and farmers, who have a practical interest in the preservation of birds, but also to the general public, who would soon appreciate the loss if the common songsters were exterminated.It is time to give more intelligent attention to the birds and appreciate their value. Many schools already have courses in natural history or nature study, and such a day would add zest to the regular studies, encourage the pupils to observe carefully, and give them something to look forward to and work for. In the words of the originator of the day, "the general observance of a Bird Day in our schools would probably do more to open thousands of young minds to the reception of bird lore than anything else that can be devised." The first thing is to interest the scholars in birds in general and particularly in those of their own locality. Good lists of birds have been prepared for several of the States, and popular books and articles on ornithology are within the reach of every one. But the instruction should not be limited to books; the children should be encouraged to observe the birds in the field, to study their habits and migrations, their nests and food, and should be taught to respect the laws protecting game and song birds.

Briefly stated, the object of Bird Day is to diffuse knowledge concerning our native birds and to arouse a more general interest in bird protection. As such it should appeal not only to ornithologists, sportsmen, and farmers, who have a practical interest in the preservation of birds, but also to the general public, who would soon appreciate the loss if the common songsters were exterminated.

It is time to give more intelligent attention to the birds and appreciate their value. Many schools already have courses in natural history or nature study, and such a day would add zest to the regular studies, encourage the pupils to observe carefully, and give them something to look forward to and work for. In the words of the originator of the day, "the general observance of a Bird Day in our schools would probably do more to open thousands of young minds to the reception of bird lore than anything else that can be devised." The first thing is to interest the scholars in birds in general and particularly in those of their own locality. Good lists of birds have been prepared for several of the States, and popular books and articles on ornithology are within the reach of every one. But the instruction should not be limited to books; the children should be encouraged to observe the birds in the field, to study their habits and migrations, their nests and food, and should be taught to respect the laws protecting game and song birds.

VALUE OF BIRD DAY

When the question of introducing Arbor Day into the schools was brought before the National Educational Association in February, 1884, the objection was made that the subject was out of place in the schools. The value of the innovation could not be appreciated by those who did not see the practical bearing of the subject on an ordinary school course. But at the next meeting of the Association the question was again brought up and unanimously adopted—to the mutual benefit of the schools and of practical forestry. With the advent of more progressive ideas concerning education there is a demand for instruction in subjects which a few years ago would have been considered out of place, or of no special value. If the main object of our educational system is to prepare boys and girls for the intelligent performance of the duties and labors of life, why should not some attention be given to the study of nature, particularly in rural schools where the farmers of the next generation are now being educated?The study of birds may be taken up in several ways and for different purposes; it may be made to furnish simply a course in mental training or to assist the pupil in acquiring habits of accurate observation; it may be taken up alone or combined with composition, drawing, geography, or literature. But it has also an economic side which may appeal to those who demand purely practical studies in schools. Economic ornithology has been defined as the "study of birds from the standpoint of dollars and cents." It treats of the direct relations of birds to man, showing which species are beneficial and which injurious, teaching the agriculturist how to protect his feathered friends and guard against the attacks of his foes. This is a subject in which we are only just beginning to acquire exact knowledge, but it is none the less deserving of a place in our educational system on this account. Its practical value is recognized both by individual States and by the National Government, which appropriate considerable sums of money for investigations of value to agriculture. Much good work has been done by some of the experiment stations and State boards of agriculture, particularly in Illinois, Indiana, Massachusetts, Michigan, Nebraska, and Pennsylvania. In the United States Department of Agriculture, the Division of Biological Survey (formerly the Division of Ornithology) devotes much attention to the collection of data respecting the geographic distribution, migration, and food of birds, and to the publication and diffusion of information concerning species which are beneficial or injurious to agriculture. Some of the results of these investigations are of general interest, and could be used in courses of instruction in even the lower schools. Such facts would thus reach a larger number of persons than is now possible, and would be made more generally available to those interested in them.If illustrations of the practical value of a knowledge of zoölogy are necessary they can easily be given. It has been estimated recently that the forests and streams of Maine are worth more than its agricultural resources. If this is so, is it not equally as important to teach the best means of preserving the timber, the game, and the fish, as it is to teach students how to develop the agricultural wealth of the State? In 1885 Pennsylvania passed its famous "scalp act," and in less than two years expended between $75,000 and $100,000 in an attempt to rid the State of animals and birds supposed to be injurious. A large part of the money was spent for killing hawks and owls, most of which belonged to species which were afterwards shown to be actually beneficial. Not only was money thrown away in a useless war against noxious animals, but the State actually paid for the destruction of birds ofinestimable value to its farmers. During the last five or six years two States have been engaged in an unsuccessful attempt to exterminate English sparrows by paying bounties for their heads. Michigan and Illinois have each spent more than $50,000; but, although millions of sparrows have been killed, the decrease in numbers is hardly perceptible. A more general knowledge of the habits of the English sparrow at the time the bird was first introduced into the United States would not only have saved this outlay of over $100,000, but would also have saved many other States from loss due to depredations by sparrows.Is it not worth while to do something to protect the birds and prevent their destruction before it is too late? A powerful influence for good can be exerted by the schools if the teachers will only interest themselves in the movement, and the benefit that will result to the pupils could hardly be attained in any other way at so small an expenditure of time. If it is deemed unwise to establish another holiday, or it may seem too much to devote one day in the year to the study of birds, the exercises of Bird Day might be combined with those of Arbor Day.It is believed that Bird Day can be adopted with profit by schools of all grades, and the subject is recommended to the thoughtful attention of teachers and school superintendents throughout the country, in the hope that they will coöperate with other agencies now at work to prevent the destruction of our native birds.

The study of birds may be taken up in several ways and for different purposes; it may be made to furnish simply a course in mental training or to assist the pupil in acquiring habits of accurate observation; it may be taken up alone or combined with composition, drawing, geography, or literature. But it has also an economic side which may appeal to those who demand purely practical studies in schools. Economic ornithology has been defined as the "study of birds from the standpoint of dollars and cents." It treats of the direct relations of birds to man, showing which species are beneficial and which injurious, teaching the agriculturist how to protect his feathered friends and guard against the attacks of his foes. This is a subject in which we are only just beginning to acquire exact knowledge, but it is none the less deserving of a place in our educational system on this account. Its practical value is recognized both by individual States and by the National Government, which appropriate considerable sums of money for investigations of value to agriculture. Much good work has been done by some of the experiment stations and State boards of agriculture, particularly in Illinois, Indiana, Massachusetts, Michigan, Nebraska, and Pennsylvania. In the United States Department of Agriculture, the Division of Biological Survey (formerly the Division of Ornithology) devotes much attention to the collection of data respecting the geographic distribution, migration, and food of birds, and to the publication and diffusion of information concerning species which are beneficial or injurious to agriculture. Some of the results of these investigations are of general interest, and could be used in courses of instruction in even the lower schools. Such facts would thus reach a larger number of persons than is now possible, and would be made more generally available to those interested in them.

If illustrations of the practical value of a knowledge of zoölogy are necessary they can easily be given. It has been estimated recently that the forests and streams of Maine are worth more than its agricultural resources. If this is so, is it not equally as important to teach the best means of preserving the timber, the game, and the fish, as it is to teach students how to develop the agricultural wealth of the State? In 1885 Pennsylvania passed its famous "scalp act," and in less than two years expended between $75,000 and $100,000 in an attempt to rid the State of animals and birds supposed to be injurious. A large part of the money was spent for killing hawks and owls, most of which belonged to species which were afterwards shown to be actually beneficial. Not only was money thrown away in a useless war against noxious animals, but the State actually paid for the destruction of birds ofinestimable value to its farmers. During the last five or six years two States have been engaged in an unsuccessful attempt to exterminate English sparrows by paying bounties for their heads. Michigan and Illinois have each spent more than $50,000; but, although millions of sparrows have been killed, the decrease in numbers is hardly perceptible. A more general knowledge of the habits of the English sparrow at the time the bird was first introduced into the United States would not only have saved this outlay of over $100,000, but would also have saved many other States from loss due to depredations by sparrows.

Is it not worth while to do something to protect the birds and prevent their destruction before it is too late? A powerful influence for good can be exerted by the schools if the teachers will only interest themselves in the movement, and the benefit that will result to the pupils could hardly be attained in any other way at so small an expenditure of time. If it is deemed unwise to establish another holiday, or it may seem too much to devote one day in the year to the study of birds, the exercises of Bird Day might be combined with those of Arbor Day.

It is believed that Bird Day can be adopted with profit by schools of all grades, and the subject is recommended to the thoughtful attention of teachers and school superintendents throughout the country, in the hope that they will coöperate with other agencies now at work to prevent the destruction of our native birds.

T. S. Palmer,

Acting Chief of Division.

Approved:

Chas. W. Dabney, Jr.,

Washington, D. C., July 2, 1896.

The results of Bird Day are noticeable in the schools in which it has been observed. The spirit of the schools has become fresher and brighter. There has been more marked improvement in the composition work and in the language of the pupils. Most of the children know the names of many of our birds and considerable of their ways of life, and wish to know more, and are their warm friends and protectors. The old relations between the small boy and the birds have been entirely changed. The birds themselves have been affected. They have become much more numerous. Many that were formerly rare visitants now nest freely in the shade trees of the city; for example, the orioles, the grosbeaks, the scarlet tanagers, and even the wood thrushes, and their nests areabout as safe as the other homes. The children say that the birds know about Bird Day, and have come to help it along.

The correlation of the public library and the public schools is assured in those towns where Bird Day has been introduced. If there were no other result of this new day, the demand for healthful literature would be enough. The call for Burroughs and Bradford Torrey, Olive Thorne Miller, and the other writers of our out-of-doors literature is so great as to attract attention in the libraries. In fact, in one the writer knows well there is a constant and steady demand, particularly from the boys. Frank Bolles is a great favorite with them. The excursions to the woods have a new and æsthetic interest. What would Emerson have thought when he wrote that matchless bit—

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