Birds settle only where they find the surroundings perfectly congenial, and where they are protected and consequently feel safe; where dense shrubbery, evergreens, and deciduous trees abound, and where water and suitable nesting material are near at hand. In one garden they are exceedingly numerous, while in another one close by, only a few pairs, perhaps, are to be found. When protected, they soon learn to regard man as their friend. Their enemies, especially Cats, Squirrels, and Owls, must not be allowed to rove about in the garden and orchard, and such thieves and robbers as the Blue Jay, the Loggerhead Shrike or Butcher Bird, and that abominable tramp and anarchist among birds, the English Sparrow, should never be tolerated in a garden or park where other birds are expected to make their homes.
In the days of my boyhood the groves re-echoed with the songs of many birds; the woods, however, have been cleared away, and in the poor remnants of the once magnificent forests there are few birds to be found today. The sweet notes of the Veery, the thundering sounds of the Ruffed Grouse, the loud hammering of the Pileated Woodpecker, are no longer heard. I have devoted much time to erecting bird houses and planting ornamental trees and shrubs for the accommodation of the birds. Here they soon took up their residences. On the top of the barn and granary Martin boxes were placed, and in the gables of the barn holes were cut to admit the pretty Barn Swallow and the Phœbe. Among the first birds to settle were the Robins and Bluebirds, both heralds of spring, appearing in the last days of March or early in April from their winter homes in our Southern States. The Baltimore Oriole suspended its beautiful hanging nest from a high horizontal branch of a Walnut tree. The Cedar Bird, quiet and retired in its habits, and a most beautiful denizen of the garden, placed its nest constructed of sheep's wool on a low horizontal branch of an Oak. The sprightly Canary-like song of the American Goldfinch, often called the Wild Canary, was heard throughout the summer, and its cozy little nest, lined warmly with thistle-down, was placed in the upright exterior branches of a Sugar Maple. In the same tree, but lower down on a horizontal branch the exquisite pendulous nest of the Red-eyed Vireo was now and then found. This Vireo is an incessant songster as it gleans among the upper branches of the trees.
The Rose-breasted Grosbeak invariably nested in a clump of dense wild Crab-apple trees, partly overgrown with grape vines. Another inhabitant of the grove not easily overlooked, is the bold Kingbird, the guardian of the barnyard, its nest saddled on a rather strong moss-covered limb of another Oak. I could mention a number of other birds that build their nests near the dwellings of man, but space will not permit me to do so. I will add, however, that if my readers would have about them these beautiful and useful birds, which are almost the best friends of mankind, don't allow English Sparrows to come near your home, and you will soon find yourself in the midst of the songsters. The incredible numbers of English Sparrows now found almost everywhere have driven our native birds away.
—Jos. F. Honecker,
Oak Forest, Ind.
GOLDENROD.
PRING is the morning of the year,
And Summer is the noontide bright;
The Autumn is the evening clear