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, in _Green
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, in _Strange
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 rattle
Joyous as my children's prattle,
Welcome to the North again,
Welcome to mine ear thy strain,
Welcome to mine eye the sight
Of thy buff, thy black and white.
Brighter plumes may greet the sun
By the banks of Amazon;
Sweeter tones may weave the spell
Of enchanting Philomel;
But the tropic bird would fail,
And the English nightingale,
If we should compare their worth
With 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._
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, larvae, 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 phoebe, 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.
VIII
THE POETS AND THE BIRDS
"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 recapture
That 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 plumed spray
That o'er the general leafage boldly grew,
He summed the woods in song; or typic drew
The watch of hungry hawks, the lone dismay
Of languid doves when long their lovers stray,
And all birds' passion plays that sprinkle dew
At morn in brake or bosky avenue.
Whate'er birds did or dreamed, this bird could say.
Then down he shot, bounced airily along
The sward, twitched in a grasshopper, made song
Midflight, perched, prinked, and to his art again.
Sweet science, this large riddle read me plain:--
How may the death of that dull insect be
The 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 glory
By which the vast shadows are stirred,
But I pine for the spirit and splendor
That 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 singing
Of 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 bonnet
Is mocking the merciful sound.
--_Anonymous._
IX
OBJECTS AND RESULTS OF BIRD 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 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 causes by
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.
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.