This was the bluebirds’ second nesting on the farm. Their first one had been destroyed by the English sparrows. The boy said he had tried in every way to help the bluebirds, and that, whenever he saw any sparrows near, he gave a sharp whistle—his confidential whistle, he called it—and that Mrs. Bluebird got so she understood what it meant; that as soon as she heard it she would come up on the ledge and call, “Dear, dear-dear.” Immediately Mr. Bluebird would appear and drive the intruders away.
These bluebirds were also annoyed by a red squirrel who climbed the trees in the orchard and peered into the nest holes. Mr. Bluebird dashed for him whenever he saw him, especially if he found him near the home tree. Sometimes both the bluebirds chased the red squirrel, who would run off barking like a little dog.
The boy had seen how I put out strings and cotton and chicken feathers, for the birds’ nestings, and he had fixed up a “store”—as he called it—on a tree, where they could “buy without money.” Every little while a goldfinch came and got some string. Always on coming he sang out, “Perchikatee,” as if to say, “By your leave.” Downy woodpeckers, chickadees, and nuthatches were there at this time of the year, although ordinarily they are seen only in winter and early spring.
[Illustration: EVERY LITTLE WHILE A GOLDFINCH CAME TO THE “STORE” TREE AND GOT SOME STRING]
The boy said it was the ravine, with its trees and thickets and tangles, that attracted so many birds. He was always praising that ravine. He thought so much of it that he had asked the neighbors not to throw rubbish down there, and not to disturb the underbrush, which shelters so many birds. He had also asked them please to keep their cats indoors at night, because so many birds had nests and helpless little ones on the ground, or in low bushes.
“Mother put me up to that,” he said; and added, “we are trying to keep that ravine as a sanctuary for birds, where they and their little ones can be safe.”
Another thing that attracted birds to that place was a mulberry tree. Though only two years old, it was bearing fruit and was visited by robins, orioles, thrashers, and redheaded woodpeckers.
The boy had so many kinds of birds never seen near our place that I began to wish I, too, could live on a farm and have so many more of these charming neighbors.