The springtime belongs to the birds and me. We own it. We know when the
May-flowers and the buttercups bloom. We know when the first frogs peep.
We watch the awakening of the woods. We are wet by the warm April
showers. We go where we will, and we are companions. Every tree and
brook and blade of grass is ours; and our hearts are full of song.
There are boys who kill the birds, and girls who want to catch them and
put them in cages; and there are others who steal their eggs. The birds
are not partners with them; they are only servants. Birds, like people,
sing for their friends, not for their masters. I am sure that one cannot
think much of the springtime and the flowers if his heart is always set
upon killing or catching something. We are happy when we are free; and
so are the birds.
The birds and I get acquainted all over again every spring. They have
seen strange lands in the winter, and all the brooks and woods have been
covered with snow. So we run and romp together, and find all the nooks
and crannies which we had half forgotten since October. The birds
remember the old places. The Wrens pull the sticks from the old hollow
rail and seem to be wild with joy to see the place again. They must be
the same Wrens that were here last year and the year before, for
strangers could not make so much fuss over an old rail. The Bluebirds
and Wrens look into every crack and corner for a place in which to
build, and the Robins and Chipping-sparrows explore every tree in the
old orchard.
If the birds want to live with us, we should encourage them. The first
thing to do is to let them alone. Let them be as free from danger and
fear as you or I. Take the hammer off the old gun, give pussy so much to
eat that she will not care to hunt for birds, and keep away the boys who
steal eggs and who carry sling-shots and throw stones. Plant trees and
bushes about the borders of the place, and let some of them, at least,
grow into tangles; then, even in the back yard, the wary Catbird may
make its home.
For some kinds of birds we can build houses. You have been doing this
all through the winter, I hear. Some of the many forms which can be used
are shown in the pictures, but any ingenious boy can suggest a dozen
other patterns. Although birds may not appreciate architecture, it is
well to make the houses neat and tasty by taking pains to have the
proportions right. The floor space in each compartment should be not
less than five by six inches, and six by six or six by eight may be
better. By cutting the boards in multiples of these numbers, one can
easily make a house with several compartments; for there are some birds,
as Martins, Tree Swallows, and Pigeons that like to live in families or
colonies. The size of the doorway is important. It should be just large
enough to admit the bird. A larger opening not only looks bad, but it
exposes the inhabitants to dangers of cats and other enemies. Birds
which build in houses, aside from Doves and Pigeons, are Bluebirds,
Wrens, Tree Swallows, Martins, and sometimes the Chickadee. For the Wren
and Chickadee the opening should be an inch-and-a-half augur-hole, and
for the others it should be two inches. Only one opening should be
provided for each house or compartment. A perch or doorstep should be
provided just below each door. It is here that the birds often stop to
arrange their toilets; and when the mistress is busy with domestic
affairs indoors, the male bird often sits outside and entertains her
with the latest neighbourhood gossip. These houses should be placed on
poles or on buildings in somewhat secluded places. Martins and Tree
Swallows like to build their nests twenty-five feet or more above the
ground, but the other birds usually prefer an elevation less than twelve
feet. Newly made houses, and particularly newly painted ones, do not
often attract the birds.
But if the birds and I are companions, I must know them more intimately.
Merely building houses for them is not enough. I want to know live and
happy birds, not dead ones. We are not to know them, then, by catching
them, nor stuffing them, nor collecting their eggs. Persons who make a
business of studying birds may shoot birds now and then, and collect
their eggs. But these persons are scientists and they are grown-up
people. They are trying to add to the sum of human knowledge, but we
want to know birds just because we want to. But even scientists do not
take specimens recklessly. They do not rob nests. They do not kill
brooding birds. They do not make collections merely for the sake of
making them; and even their collections are less valuable than a
knowledge of the bird as it lives and flies and sings.
Boys and girls should not make collections of eggs, for these
collections are mere curiosities, as collections of spools and marbles
are. They may afford some entertainment, to be sure, but one can find
amusement in harmless ways. Some people think that making collections
makes one a naturalist, but it does not. The naturalist cares more for
things as they really are in their own homes than for museum specimens.
One does not love the birds when he steals their eggs and breaks up
their homes; and he is depriving the farmer of one of his best friends,
for birds keep insects in check!
Stuffed birds do not sing and empty eggs do not hatch. Then let us go to
the fields and watch the birds. Sit down on the soft grass and try to
make out what the Robin is doing on yonder fence or why the Wren is
bursting with song in the thicket. An opera-glass or spy-glass will
bring them close to you. Try to find out not only what the colours and
shapes and sizes are, but what their habits are. What does the bird eat?
How much does it eat? Where is its nest? How many eggs does it lay? What
colour are they? How long does the mother bird sit? Does the father bird
care for her when she is sitting? For how long do the young birds remain
in the nest? Who feeds them? What are they fed? Is there more than one
brood in the season? Where do the birds go after breeding? Do they
change their plumage? Are the mother birds and father birds unlike in
size or colour? How many kinds of birds do you know?
These are some of the things which every boy or girl wants to know; and
we can find out by watching the birds! There is no harm in visiting the
nests, if one does it in the right way. I have visited hundreds of them
and have kept many records of the number of eggs and the dates when they
were laid, how long before they hatched, and when the birds flew away;
and the birds took no offence at my inquisitiveness. These are some of
the cautions to be observed: Watch only those nests which can be seen
without climbing, for if you have to climb the tree, the birds will
resent it. Make the visit when the birds are absent if possible; at
least, never scare the bird from the nest. Do not touch the eggs or the
nest. Make your visit very short. Make up your mind just what you want
to see, then look in quickly and pass on. Do not go too often, once or
twice a day will be sufficient. Do not take the other children with you,
for you are then apt to stay too long and to offend the birds.
Now let us see how intimately you can become acquainted with some bird
this summer.
—L. H. Bailey.
* * * * *
This is the little story that Miss Wilde read them, and they were very
anxious as to what schoolhouse and children she really meant, but she
said that was a secret.