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 handy place for a basin of water. In each of the four pillars supporting the roof is a hole, to be stuffed with suet, cheese, peanut butter, etc. My grocer saves the drippings from his peanut grinder for my birds, so there is no extravagance in giving them this dainty. Song sparrows and bluebirds like it as well as the woodpeckers. On the side of the tray I tack nesting material. So this food house, made out of waste materials, serves several uses. The boy liked it so well he patterned one after it for his birds.

Every autumn a lisping, whispered, dreamy bird song coming from some low elevation has puzzled me. The bird looked like the song sparrow, but this soft warble was so different from his spirited spring and summer songs that I could not believe my eyes. After repeated autumn entries in my notebook, "I see his heavy breastspot heave and swell, and his tail quiver as the song sparrow's always does when he sings," I was gratified to find my findings confirmed by another observer. The singer was the song sparrow.

But to return to my bird family.

From the time the first birds arrive in the spring until they leave again, my notebook and my field glasses are my constant companions. Now here are some little nature secrets. My notebook is a green one. I have to buy the paper in large sheets of the wholesaler, and make the books myself. A green