KNOWLEDGE OF BIRD-LIFE
“With cheerful hop from perch to spray,
They sport along the meads;
In social bliss together stray,
Where love or fancy leads.
Through spring’s gay scenes each happy pair
Their fluttering joys pursue;
Its various charms and produce share,
Forever kind and true.”
PREFACE
IT has become a universal custom to obtain and preserve the likenesses of one’s friends. Photographs are the most popular form of these likenesses, as they give the true exterior outlines and appearance, (except coloring) of the subjects. But how much more popular and useful does photography become, when it can be used as a means of securing plates from which to print photographs in a regular printing press, and, what is more astonishing and delightful, to produce the real colors of nature as shown in the subject, no matter how brilliant or varied.
We quote from the December number of the Ladies’ Home Journal: “An excellent suggestion was recently made by the Department of Agriculture at Washington that the public schools of the country shall have a new holiday, to be known as Bird Day. Three cities have already adopted the suggestion, and it is likely that others will quickly follow. Of course, Bird Day will differ from its successful predecessor, Arbor Day. We can plant trees but not birds. It is suggested that Bird Day take the form of bird exhibitions, of bird exercises, of bird studies – any form of entertainment, in fact, which will bring children closer to their little brethren of the air, and in more intelligent sympathy with their life and ways. There is a wonderful story in bird life, and but few of our children know it. Few of our elders do, for that matter. A whole day of a year can well and profitably be given over to the birds. Than such study, nothing can be more interesting. The cultivation of an intimate acquaintanceship with our feathered friends is a source of genuine pleasure. We are under greater obligations to the birds than we dream of. Without them the world would be more barren than we imagine. Consequently, we have some duties which we owe them. What these duties are only a few of us know or have ever taken the trouble to find out. Our children should not be allowed to grow to maturity without this knowledge. The more they know of the birds the better men and women they will be. We can hardly encourage such studies too much.”
Of all animated nature, birds are the most beautiful in coloring, most graceful in form and action, swiftest in motion and most perfect emblems of freedom.
They are withal, very intelligent and have many remarkable traits, so that their habits and characteristics make a delightful study for all lovers of nature. In view of the facts, we feel that we are doing a useful work for the young, and one that will be appreciated by progressive parents, in placing within the easy possession of children in the homes these beautiful photographs of birds.
The text is prepared with the view of giving the children as clear an idea as possible, of haunts, habits, characteristics and such other information as will lead them to love the birds and delight in their study and acquaintance.
Copyrighted, 1896.
THE NONPAREIL
I am called the Nonpareil because there is no other bird equal to me.
I have many names. Some call me the “Painted Finch” or “Painted Bunting.” Others call me “The Pope,” because I wear a purple hood.
I live in a cage, eat seeds, and am very fond of flies and spiders.
Sometimes they let me out of the cage and I fly about the room and catch flies. I like to catch them while they are flying.
When I am tired I stop and sing. There is a vase of flowers in front of the mirror.
I fly to this vase where I can see myself in the glass. Then I sing as loud as I can. They like to hear me sing.
I take a bath every day and how I do make the water fly!
I used to live in the woods where there were many birds like me. We built our nests in bushes, hedges, and low trees. How happy we were.
My cage is pretty but I wish I could go back to my home in the woods.
SWEET warblers of the sunny hours,
Forever on the wing,
I love thee as I love the flowers,
The sunlight and the spring.
They come like pleasant memories
In summer’s joyous time,
And sing their gushing melodies,
As I would sing a rhyme.
In the green and quiet places,
Where the golden sunlight falls,
We sit with smiling faces
To list their silver calls.
And when their holy anthems
Come pealing through the air,
Our hearts leap forth to meet them
With a blessing and a prayer.
Amid the morning’s fragrant dew,
Amid the mists of even,
They warble on as if they drew
Their music down from heaven.
How sweetly sounds each mellow note
Beneath the moon’s pale ray,
When dying zephyrs rise and float
Like lovers’ sighs away!”
THE RESPLENDENT TROGON
Is it cold where you live, little boys and girls? It is not where I live. Don’t you think my feathers grew in the bright sunshine?
My home is way down where the big oceans almost meet. The sun is almost straight overhead every noon.
I live in the woods, way back where the trees are tall and thick. I don’t fly around much, but sit on a limb of a tree way up high.
Don’t you think my red breast looks pretty among the green leaves?
When I see a fly or a berry I dart down after it. My long tail streams out behind like four ribbons. I wish you could see me. My tail never gets in the way.
Wouldn’t you like to have me sit on your shoulder, little boy? You see my tail would reach almost to the ground.
If you went out into the street with me on your shoulder, I would call whe-oo, whe-oo, the way I do in the woods.
All the little boys and girls playing near would look around and say, “What is that noise?” Then they would see you and me and run up fast and say, “Where did you get that bird?”
The little girls would want to pull out my tail feathers to put around their hats. You would not let them, would you?
I have a mate. I think she is very nice. Her tail is not so long as mine. Would you like to see her too? She lays eggs every year, and sits on them till little birds hatch out. They are just like us, but they have to grow and get dressed in the pretty feathers like ours. They look like little dumplings when they come out of the eggs.
But they are all right. They get very hungry and we carry them lots of things to eat, so they can grow fast.
THE RESPLENDENT TROGON
RESPLENDENT Trogons are natives of Central America. There are fifty kinds, and this is the largest. A systematic account of the superb tribe has been