File:Bird-lore (1915) (14568669999).jpg

Identifier: birdlore17nati (find matches)
Title: Bird-lore
Year: 1899 (1890s)
Authors: National Association of Audubon Societies for the Protection of Wild Birds and Animals
Subjects: Birds -- Periodicals Birds -- Conservation Periodicals
Publisher: New York, National Association of Audubon Societies
Contributing Library: American Museum of Natural History Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Biodiversity Heritage Library

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every way encour-aged them on her fine place, told us that her Robins were very fond of pot-cheese (otherwiseknown as cottage cheese or smear-case), and are so tame as to take it from her hand; thisin summer, however. At this ladys home, where dense shrubbery and dense vine growthsabound, she, this season, counted fifteen nests of the Brown Thrasher; and in a rose-archnear the house were, at the same time, nests of three species (Robin, Cardinal, and Mourn-ing Dove), within two or three feet of one another! Bird-Life in Southern Illinois 103 the parents brought to the boxes to be fed. When they were full-grown andthe parents had gone about raising a second brood, this one was found oneday with his left wing hanging and all but useless. To save him from the catsI tried to catch him, but he managed to elude me by volplaning from onebush to another. By degrees the injured wing became more serviceable, andnow is nearly normal, having only a slight drop, and the bird flies as well as ever.
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CANADA GEESEPhotographed by Francis Harper, at Gardiners Island, N. Y., April 5, igi2. A Mysterious Bird of the Marsh By VERDI BURTCH, Branchport, N. Y.With photographs by the author WHEN the spring days come and the snows melt, the brooks are run-ning full and the waters rising in the lake and marsh, the peepersawake and the toads and frogs begin to make music. Nearly everymorning we hear a new song from a bird newly arrived from the South.These signs of spring quicken the pulse, and make us long to get out in thewoods and fields to learn more of the wonders of nature. Then one morning, about the middle of April, we hear a strange and myster-ious sound issuing from the marsh—gung gi um, gung gt um, gung gl um—andour curiosity is aroused. At first we think it may be some one over across thevalley driving stakes. Or perhaps it may be some one pumping water from anold-fashioned wooden pump in a deep well. However, neither of these explana-tions seems to be satisfactory; the sound is

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