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BIRDS

A MONTHLY SERIAL

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY

DESIGNED TO PROMOTE

KNOWLEDGE OF BIRD-LIFE

VOLUME HI.

CHICAGO.
NATURE STUDY PUBLISHING COMPANY.

COPYRIGHT, 1897
BY

NATURE STUDY PUBLISHING Co.
CHICAGO.

INTRODUCTION.

With the January number of BIRDS, we enter upon a new year with the
satisfaction of having pleased our readers, as well as rendered an actual service
to the cause of education, ornithological literature, and art. Among the
hundreds of testimonials from competent judges, (many of them scientists),
which we have received, we will permit ourselves the use of one only, as
exemplifying the excellence which we have sought to attain and the rightful
claim which we may make for the future. The writer says : "I find BIRDS
an everlasting source of pleasure to the children, not less than to myself. I
have one of the few almost absolutely fresh copies of 'Audubon's Birds,' for
which I have refused $3,000, besides later works, and I will say that the
pictures of birds given in your magazine are infinitely more true to life, and
more pleasing, everyway, than any of those presented in either work. The
other day I compared some of your pictures with the birds mounted by myself,
notably a Wood-duck and a Wood-cock, and every marking co-incided. The
photographs might have been taken from my own specimens, so accurately
were they delineated, attesting the truth of your work."

Some of our subscribers, unaware of the prodigality with which nature has
scattered birds throughout the world, have asked whether the supply of
specimens may not soon be exhausted. Our answer is, that there are many
thousands of rare and attractive birds, all of them interesting for study, from
which, for years to come, we might select many of the lovliest forms and
richest plumage. Of North American birds alone there are more than twelve
hundred species.

The success of BIRDS is due to its superior color illustrations and the
unique treatment of the text. Popular and yet scientific, it is interesting to
old and young alike.

The classification and nomenclature followed are those adopted by the
American Ornithological Union in 1895.

NATURE STUDY PUBLISHING COMPANY.

THE PIGEONS.

Under the big nursery table
Are Sue, Don, Harold, and Mabel,
All playing, with joy and delight,
That pigeons they are, dressed in white.

Don't you hear their gentle " coo, coo " ?
Ah, now they fly out in full view !
And over the meadow they go —
'Tis their own dear nursery, you know —

Where, quick to the tops of the trees
They fly, with lightness and ease ;
There each birdie is glad to be
Perched high upon a big chair-tree.

But to their home in swiftest flight
They haste, ere day has changed to night •
Then in they go, with cooing sweet,
And find their home a blest retreat.

And now they tell just where they've been,
And all the wondrous sights they've seen.
Then with their " coo, coo," soft and low,
Each pigeon goes to sleep, I trow.

— EMMA G. SAULSBURY.

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

CROWNED PIGEON.
V- Life -size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co.. 1898, Chicago.

BIRDS.

iLLUSTRflTED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

Voi,. III.

JANUARY, 1898.

No. i.

THE CROWNED PIGEON.

B regret that a full mono-
graph of this remarkable
bird cannot be given in
this number. It is the
giant among Pigeons and has some
characteristics, on account of its great
size, not common to the family. Very
little has been written about it, and it
would be a real service to ornithology
if some one familiar with the subject
would communicate his knowledge to
the public. These birds pair for life,
and the loss or death of a mate is in
many cases mourned and grieved over,
the survivor frequently refusing to be
consoled.

The Pigeon family is an exceedingly
interesting one, of great variety of form
and color, undergoing constant change
by inter-breeding. There are about
three hundred known species of
Pigeons and Doves, about one third of
which number are found in the New
World. In North America but twelve

species occur, a family small enough
to find room in BIRDS to sit for their
pictures. Some of these birds, says
Chapman, are arboreal, others are
strictly terrestrial. Some seek the
forests and others prefer the fields and
clearings. Some nest in colonies,
others in isolated pairs, but most species
are found in flocks of greater or less
size after the nesting season. When
drinking, they do not raise the head as
others do to swallow, but keep the bill
immersed until the draught is finished.
The young are born naked and are
fed by regurgitation.

Living specimens of this the largest
species of Pigeons may some day be
brought to the United States and made
to increase as the Ring-necked Eng-
lish Pheasant has already been domes-
ticated in their own country. It has
been suggested that their introduction
among us would be a comparatively
easy matter.

THE RED-EYED VIREO.

UA bird with red eyes! look,
mamma," said Bobby. "How
funny!"

"And how beautiful," replied
his mamma. "Not plainly
dressed, like his cousin, the
Warbling Vireo, whose picture
you saw in the October number
of BIRDS."

"The Yellow-Throated, in the
June number," said Bobbie, who
has a remarkable memory, "was
a lovely bird, too, mamma. Can
Mr. Red-Eye sing?"

" No, you can't call his note a
song; it is more like a chatter,
which he keeps up from morning
till night."

" Like some children," said
Bobbie, with a sage nod of the
head, "who talk all day long."

"Yes," smiled his mamma,
"without saying very much,
either. But this little bird
works while he chatters.

"I reckon he stops at noon
time," said Bobbie, "as other
birds do."

" No, even then the silence of
the woods is broken by the Red-
Eyed Vireo's voice. He is such
a busy little fellow, he can't find
time for a nap."

"Hm! " remarked Bobbie; "the
other birds must find him a
tiresome fellow, I think."

"Has he any other names,
mamma?"

"Yes, he is called the Red-
Eyed Greenlet or Red-Eyed
Fly-catcher. One gentleman
calls him ' The Preacher.' To
him the bird seems to say, ' You
see it; you know it; do you hear me?
do you believe it T '

" I'm going to look out for that
red-eyed preacher next sum-
mer," said Bobby, with a laugh.

"One lady who makes a study
of birds thinks he says, ''I know
it ! would you think it9 musnt touch
it; you'll rue it!' He makes a
pause, as you see, after each
sentence."

"Tell me something about
their nests?" said Bobbie,
deeply interested.

"They are made of bark
fibers, cobwebs, bits of paper,
and scraps of hornets' nests, in
the form of a little pocket. This
is suspended from the fork of
two or more twigs high up in
the tree, making a sort of cradle
for the little ones."

" Rock-a-by, baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock."

hummed Bobby. "How jolly!"
1 Yes," said mamma; and they
take care that it is under some
green leaves, which act as an
umbrella to keep the sun out of
the mother's eyes while she sits
on the four pretty white eggs."

"And out of the little ones'
red eyes, too," laughed Bobbie.
"How cute!"

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

RED-EYED VIREO.

9, in Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

THE RED EYED VIRECX

IWjED-EYED VIREO, Red-eyed
I ^S Greenlet, and Red-eyed Fly-
\ catcher are the names var-
. Jj? V^^, iously applied to this
pretty representative of
his family, of which there are about
fifty species. The Red-eye is an inhab-
itant of Central America and Mexico,
its northern limit being the lower Rio
Grande valley in Texas.

The exquisite little creature is tinted
even more delicately than the Wax-
wing, but with much the same glossy
look and elegant air. The ruby -tinted
eye, and the conspicuous white line
above it, with its border, are good
characteristics by which to distinguish
it from its relatives.

The Red-eyed Vireo is found alike
in the shade trees of lawns, in orchards
or woodlands, and is especially fond of
sycamore groves along streams. The
male is a tireless songster, and even at
noon-tide of a sultry summer-day, when
all other warblers are silent, his monot-
onous song will be heard. He-ha-wha,
or he, ha, whip, in rising inflection, and
he, ha, whee, in falling cadence. He
has also a chip, a chatter like a minia-
ture of the Oriole's scold, heard only
in the season of courtship, and a
peculiarly characteristic querulous note
which, like others, can not be described
with accuracy.

" The Preacher," a name which
Wilson Flagg has given this Vireo,
exactly reflects the character of the
bird and its song. " His style of
preaching is not declamation," says
the writer. "Though constantly talk-
ing, he takes the part of a deliberate
orator who explains his subject in a
few words and then makes a pause for
his hearers to reflect upon it., We
might suppose him to be repeating
moderately, with a pause between each
sentence, ' You see it — You know it —
Do you hear me? — Do you believe it ? '

All these strains are delivered with a
rising inflection at the close, and with
a pause, as if waiting for an answer."

From morning till night this cheery
bird sings as he works, from May to
September. " His tender and pathetic
utterances," says Brewer, " are in strik-
ing contrast to the apparent indifference
or unconsciousness of the little vocalist
who, while thus delighting the ear of
the listener, seems to be all the while
bent on procuring its daily food, which
it pursues with unabated ardor."

As noxious and destructive insects
constitute the Vireo's chief food he
may properly be classed among the
beneficent birds. Seeking for these
is his constant occupation, as he hops
along a branch, now peering into some
crevice of the bark or nook among the
foliage, ever uttering his pretty song
during the interval between swallowing
the last worm and finding the next.

The nest of the Red-eye is built in a
horizontal branch of a tree, usually in
a small sapling that responds to all the
caprices of the wind, thus acting as a
cradle for the little ones within. The
nest is cup-like in shape, and always
dependent from small twigs, around
which its upper edges are firmly bound,
with a canopy of leaves overhead. It
is woven of a variety of materials, fine
strips of bark, fibres of vegetables, and
webs of spiders and caterpillars. It is
said that two nests of the same species
are rarely found alike. Some are buislt
of paper fibres, and bits of hornets'
nests, and another may be a perfect col-
lection of scraps of all sorts.

The eggs are three or four, white
with a few black or umber specks
about the larger end.

It was in the nest of the Red-eyed
Vireo that Hamilton Gibson found
twisted a bit of newspaper, whose
single legible sentence read : " * * *
have in view the will of God."*

THE EARLY OWL.

An Owl once lived in a hollow tree,
And lie was as wise as wise could be.
The branch of learning he didn't know
Could scarce on the tree of knowledge grow,
He knew the tree from branch to root,
And an owl like that can afford to hoot.

And he hooted — until, alas ! one day,

He chanced to hear, in a casual way,

An insignificant little bird

Make use of a term he had never heard.

He was flying to bed in the dawning light

When he heard her singing with all her might,

" Hurray! hurray ! for the early worm ! "

" Dear me," said the owl, " what a singular term !

I would look it up if it weren't so late,

I must rise at dusk to investigate.

Early to bed and early to rise

Makes an owl healthy, and stealthy, and wise ! "

So he slept like an honest owl all day,
And rose in the early twilight gray,
And went to work in the dusky light
To look for the early worm at night.

He searched the country for miles around,
But the early worm was not to be found ;
So he went to bed in the dawning light
And looked for the "worm " again next night.
And again and again, and again and again,
He sought and he sought, but all in vain,
Till he must have looked for a year and a day
For the early worm in the twilight gray.

At last in despair he gave up the search,
And was heard to remark as he sat on his perch
By the side of his nest in the hollow tree :
"The thing is as plain as night to me—
Nothing can shake my conviction firm.
There's no such thing as the early worm."

— O. HERFORD.

From col. Chi. AcaJ. Sciences. .

FOX SPARROW.
Vs Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 18U8,"Chicag

THE FOX-COLORED SPARROW.

3T
1

•N "Wood Notes Wild," S. P.
Cheney says this song-loving
Sparrow has a sweet voice and
a pleasing song, which he has
set to music. No Sparrow, he
says, sings with a better quality of
tone. A distinguished musician him-
self, no one was better qualified to
give a final opinion upon the subject.
Others have spoken in praise of it,
Burroughs characterizing it as "a
strong, richly modulated whistle, the
finest Sparrow note I have ever heard."
Baird says, "in the spring the male
becomes quite musical, and is one of
our sweetest and most remarkable
singers. His voice is loud, clear,
and melodious ; his notes full, rich,
and varied ; and his song is unequalled
by any of this family that I have ever
heard." Mr. Torrey finds a " Thrush-
like " quality in the song of the Fox
Sparrow. In his "Birds in the Bush "
Mr. Torrey describes an interesting
contest as follows :

"One afternoon I stood still while a
Fox Sparrow and a Song Sparrow
sang alternately on either side of me,
both exceptionally good vocalists, and
each doing his best. The songs were
of about equal length, and as far as
theme was concerned were not a little
alike ; but the Fox Sparrow's tone was
both louder and more mellow than the
others, while his notes were longer, —
more sustained, — and his voice was
'carried' from one pitch to another.
On the whole, I had no hesitation
about giving him the palm ; but I am
bound to say that his rival was a
worthy competitor."

The Fox-colored Sparrow is also
one of the largest and finest of his

tribe, breeding from the Gulf of St.
Lawrence and Labrador north into
Alaska ; in winter it is met with south
over the whole of the eastern United
States to the Gulf coast. Audubon
found it nesting in Labrador from the
middle of June to the 5th of July. Its
nest has been found in trees and on
the ground in the Arctic regions, on
the Yukon river in July. According
to many observers, the nests are, for
the most part, placed on the ground,
usually concealed by the drooping
branches of evergreens. They are
made of grass and moss, lined with
fine grass and feathers. Some nests
are three or four inches in depth,
strong, compact, and handsome. The
eggs are three or five, oval in form, of
a clayey greenish ground color, dotted
with dull reddish brown and chocolate.
They vary in coloration.

In the early spring the Fox Sparrow
is often seen associated with small
parties of Juncos, in damp thickets
and roadside shrubbery ; later, accord-
ing to Mr. Bicknell, it takes more to
woodsides, foraging on leaf-strewn
slopes where there is little or no
undergrowth. In the autumn it is
found in hedgerows, thickets and
weedy grainfields, rarely however,
staying far from some thickety cover.
It is a great scratcher among dead
leaves, and "can make the wood
rubbish fly in a way which, in propor-
tion to its size, a barnyard fowl could
scarcely excel."

The Sparrows are worthy of close
study, many of them possessing habits
of great beauty and interest.

BOB WHITE!

I'm a game bird, not a song
bird with beautiful feathers,
flitting all day from tree to tree,
but just a plain-looking little
body, dressed in sober colors,
like a Quaker.

It wouldn't do for me to wear
a red hat, and a green coat, and
a yellow vest. Oh, no! that
would be very foolish of me,
indeed. What a mark I would
be for every man and boy who
can fire a gun or throw a stone,
as I run along the ground in
clearings and cultivated fields.
That's the reason I wear so plain
a coat. At the first glance you
would take me for a bunch of
dried grass or a bit of earth, but
at the first movement, off I go,
running for dear life to some
thickly wooded cover, where I
hide till danger is passed.

Cute! Yes, I think so. You
would have to be sharp, too, if
you were a game-bird. Through
the summer we don't have much
trouble, but just as soon as cold
weather sets in, and our broods
have grown to an eatable size,
"pop" go the guns, and 4t whirr"
go our wings as we fly through
the air. It is only at such times
we take wing, sometimes seek-
ing refuge in a tree from our
enemies. I'm sorry we are such
nice birds — to eat — for really

we like to stay around farm-
houses and barn-yards, eating
with the chickens and othei
fowl. We are easily tamed, and
the farmers often thank us for
the injurious insects we eat, and
the seeds of weeds.

How do we know they thank
us ? Why, we must know that,
when they scatter seed for us
on the snow. Kind deeds speak
louder than words, for in the
winter we suffer a great deal.
Sometimes when it is very cold
weburrow down under the snow,
in snow-houses, as it were, to
keep warm. That is risky,
though; for when it rains and
then freezes over, we are in a
trap. A great many Quail die
in this way during a hard
winter.

Is Quail another name for
Bob White? Yes, but people
like Bob White better. Did
you ever hear me whistle? If
not, come out in the country in
the spring, and hear me call to
my mate. I sit on a fence rail,
and, to let her know where I
am, I whistle, Sob White! Bob
White! and if she pretends to
be bashful, and doesn't answer
me at once, I whistle again, Bob,
Bob White! POOR Bob White!
She takes pity on me then, and
conies at my call.

16

» ..

From col. F M Woodruff.

BOB- WHITE.
% Life-size.

Copy rich ted txy
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicntfo.

BOB WHITE.

OB WHITE is a plump,
fine-looking fellow,known
in the New England and
Middle States as the
Quail and in the Southern
States as the Partridge. It is said,
however, that these names belong to
other and quite different birds, and at
the suggestion of Prof. Baird, Bob
White, which is its call note, has
become its accepted and present name.
In the language of Mr. N. S. Goss
these birds appear to thrive best in
the presence of man, and were' they
protected during our cold winters,
would soon become quite tame. They
often nest near our dwellings. "In the
spring of 1867," says Mr. Goss, "I was
shown on Owl Creek, Woodson
County, Kansas, a nest containing
nineteen eggs. It was placed in the
dooryard, and not over twenty-five
yards from the house ; several dogs
were running about the yard, and the
house cat was purring near the door-
way. Fearing the eggs would be
destroyed, I suggested the building of
a high, tight fence round the nest.
'Oh,' said the farmer, 'that is not
necessary ; our cats and dogs will not
harm them, for they know them well,
as they have for a long time run about
with the chickens, and feed with them
from food thrown from the doorstep.'
I am confident that if man were as
friendly to the birds as they are to
man, they would soon become
thoroughly domesticated. Trapped
and hunted as they are with dog and
gun it is not strange that as a whole
they remain timid and mistrustful, and
were they not naturally birds of
civilization would rapidly dissappear
with the settlement of the country.
As it is, they seem to realize that man

is only at times their enemy, and that
his cultivated fields afford them a safe
refuge from many other enemies, and
insure a more certain and bountiful
supply of food than found elsewhere."

Quails destroy injurious insects and
seeds of weeds, upon which they
largely feed. When startled they rise
with a loud whirring sound, their
flight being very swift, low, and direct,
a rather laborious effort. They move
about in small coveys or family
groups, pairing during the nesting
season, and share alike in the duties
of protecting and rearing the young.

The nest is placed on the ground,
in a depression, usually in the grass
upon the prairies, sometimes in a
thicket,under a low bush. It is usually
arched over with grass, with entrance
on the side.

From fifteen to twenty pure white
eggs are usually laid.

S. P. Cheney pleasantly says :
" Familiar as I have been with almost
all parts of Vermont for more than
thirty years, I have seen only one
Quail in the state, and he was evidently
a 'tramp.' I heard him just at night,
the first day of July, 1884. Did not
get sight of him till the next morning,
when he came out into the sun, stood
on the top rail of a fence, warmed
himself, and whistled his spirited,
forceful tune, his solid little body
swelling and throbbing at every note,
especially when he rose to the tonic.
I was prepared for him, and made an
exact copy of what he gave : Bob, Bob,
White! Bob White! Bob, Bob, White!
After the performance he stood, evi-
dently listening for a reply ; none
came, and without another note he
disappeared, to be seen no more."

BIRDS IN THE SCHOOLS.

HE movement to protect the
birds of America and prevent
them from being transformed
into millinery in such prodig-
ious numbers, is having a marked
revival in many parts of the country,
especially in the state of New York.
In New York City there was recently
held a large public meeting, under the
auspicies of the Audubon Society and
the American Museum of Natural His-
tory, to protest against the wholesale
and indiscriminate destruction of
native birds for personal adornment
State Superintendent of Schools Skin-
ner, of that state has established a
"bird day" in the public schools in
connection with Arbor Day, in which
the pupils will be taught the great
value of birds to mankind. Mr. Skinner
also has in preparation a manual upon
the subject, 100,000 copies of which he
will have distributed among the New
York state schools.

Public ignorance regarding the
value of birds in the economy of nature
and especially to human life is so great
as to be almost incomprehensible. A
number of estimates recently made by
Morris K.Jesup, President of the Ameri-
can Museum of Natural History, show
how important it is that a stronger
safe-guard, in the shape of public senti-
ment, should be thrown about our
feathered benefactors. In a late inter-
view upon this subject, Mr. Jesup said :
"Among the birds most worn this
winter are the Herons, which are killed
for their aigrettes ; the Terns, or Sea
Swallows and Gulls ; in short mostly
marsh and maritime birds." It is
known that the killing of a great
number of these shore birds has been
followed by an increase in human mor-
tality among the inhabitants of the
coast, the destroyed birds having form-
erly assisted in keeping the beaches
and bayous free from decaying animal
matter. New Orleans had a plague of

bugs about the middle of September,
just when the yellow fever began, and,
strange as it may seem, the bugs
proved far more troublesome than the
disease, and certainly the annoyance
was more immediate. The people
called it a mystery, but the scientists
said it was merely the result of man's
improvidence in destroying the birds.
The destruction has been going on in
Louisiana, particularly on the Gulf
coast, for years, and has been carried
on by professional hunters, who kill
the birds solely for millinery purposes.
Nature revenged herself on New
Orleans, as she will on every place
where birds are destroyed for fashion-
able purposes.

Would it not be a good thing to
increase the intelligence of the present
and rising generation respecting the
value of birds by introducing into the
schools of every state in the Union the
idea which has been adopted by State
Superintendent Skinner? And we
respectfully suggest that the use of this
magazine by teachers, through the
wise co-operation of school boards,
everywhere, as a text book, would
quickly supply the knowledge of bird
life and utility so sadly needed by the
community. We present some of the
innocent creatures each month in
accurate outline and color, and the
dullest pupil cannot fail to be impressed
by their beauty and the necessity for
their protection. "Our schools, public
and private, can hardly be criticised as
instructors in the common branches of
learning, but they could also teach the
rising generation the equally important
truths relating to the material world
with which we are encircled." In Col-
orado and in some other states Boards
of Education have supplied their
teachers with BIRDS in sufficient quan-
tities to enable their pupils to study
the subjects in the most profitable
manner. — C. C. MARBLE.

20

THE PASSENGER PIGEON,

F the reader is interested in num-
bers, he will appreciate the
statement written about 1808
by Wilson, who estimated that
a flock of Wild Pigeons observed
by him near Frankfort, Kentucky,
contained at least 2,230,272,000 indiv-
uals. If he is also interested in the
aspect presented by these birds in
flight, cloud-like in form and apparently
boundless in extent, he will read the
full and graphic descriptions given by
Audubon. In 1863, when the writer
was a boy, he remembers seeing the
birds brought to town in barrels and old
at a price which did not justify trans-
portation to market. What appeared
to be a cloud, dark and lowering, was
not infrequently seen approaching, soon
to shut out the light of the sun, until
the birds which composed it, on the
way to or from their feeding or roost-
ing places, had passed on. Now hear
what Major Bendire, as late as 1892,
says : "It looks now as if their total
extermination might be accomplished
within the present century. The only
thing which retards their complete
extinction is that it no longer pays to
net these birds, they being too scarce
for this now, at least in the more set-
tled portions of the country, and also,
perhaps, that from constant and
unremitting persecution on their
breeding grounds, they have changed
their habits somewhat, the majority
no longer breeding in colonies, but
scattering over the country and breed-
ing in isolated pairs."

The natural home of the Wild Pigeon
is within the wooded lands, and they
are seldom met with upon the broad

prairies. Audubon observed that it
was almost entirely influenced in its
migrations by the abundance of its
food, that temperature had little to do
with it, as they not infrequently moved
northward in large columns as early
as the yth of March, with a tempera-
ture twenty degrees below the freezing
point.

" The Wild Pigeons are capable of
propelling themselves in long con-
tinued flights and are known to move
with an almost incredible rapidity,
passing over a great extent of country
in a very short time." Pigeons have
been captured in the state of New
York with their crops still filled with
the undigested grains of rice that must
have been taken in the distant fields
of Georgia or South Carolina, appar-
ently proving that they must have
passed over the intervening space
within a very few hours. Audubon
estimated the rapidity of their flight
as at least a mile a minute.

The Wild Pigeon is remarkable for
its ease and grace, whether on the
ground or the limbs of trees. Though
living, moving, and feeding together in
large companies, they mate in pairs,
Several broods are reared in a season,
nesting beginning very early in the
spring. The nests are placed on trees,
being a slight platform structure of
twigs, without any material for lining
whatever. Two white eggs are laid.

Mr. Goss says (1891) that the Pas-
senger Pigeon is still to be found in
numbers within the Indian Territory
and portions of the southern states,
and in Kansas a few breed occasionally
in the Neosho Valley.

THE PASSENGER PIGEON.

Some people call us the Wild Pigeon
and the Gypsy among birds. We do
wander long distances in search of food,
and when we have eaten all the beech
nuts in one part of the country, take
wing, and away we go like a great
army to another place.

And such an army ! We form in a
column eight or ten miles long, thou-
sands and thousands of us, our approach
sounding like a gale among the rigging
of a vessel. Not always in a straight
course do we go, but in a winding way
looking for all the world, against the
sky, like a vast river. Then our
leaders give the word, our captains,
you know, and we form in a straight
line, sweeping along as you have seen
regiments of soldiers marching on
parade. We are just as fond of form-
ing new figures as they are, and our
captains, by their actions, give their
orders much in the same way.

"Down, Up! Right, Left!" and
away we go forming our evolutions in
the air.

But you should see us when Mr.
Hawk attacks our flock. Then, like a
torrent, and with a noise like thunder,
we rush into one compact mass, each
pressing upon the other toward the
center. Swiftly we descend almost to
the earth, then up again, forming as

we do a straight column, twisting,
turning, looking, when far up in the
air, like a great serpent. At other
times we fly straight ahead,very swiftly,
going at the rate of a mile a minute.
I don't believe any of you little folks
have ever traveled as fast as that behifld
a locomotive.

Then our roosting places ! Ah, you
ought to see us there ! There was one
in Kentucky, I remember, in a dense
forest, where the trees were very large,
a forest forty miles long and three wide,
larger than many cities. The Pigedns
began to collect after sunset, thousands
upon thousands, flock after flock con-
tinuing to arrive even after midnight.
There were not trees enough to go
around, and so many of us perched
upon one limb that the largest branches
broke, killing hundreds of Pigeons in
their fall. The noise we made
could be heard at the distance of
three miles. People who like Pigeon
pie came with long poles and guns,
and when morning broke, and the
Pigeons that could fly had disappeared,
there were heaps and heaps of little
fellows lying dead upon the ground.

We occupied that roost about two
weeks. When we left it for good, the
forest looked like it had been swept
by a tornado.

From col. Ruihven Deane.

PASSENGER PIGEON.
Yv Life-size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

THE SHORT-EARED OWL,

''I think," said Bobbie, looking
•ver the present number of
BIRDS, " that the Owl, instead of
the Red-eyed Yireo, ought to be
called l The Preacher.' "

u Why ? " said his mamma,
always pleased at herboy'sfancy.

"Because the Owl looks so wise
—and — solemn ! " said Bobby.

Mamma laughed.

" He does look solemn," she
agreed, " but about his wisdom
I am not so certain. Turn to
the text and let us see what he
does say about himself."

1 Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo I "

" That doesn't sound very
wise," said Bobbie, reading
aloud, " though Mr. Shouter's
preaching sounds like that to me
sometimes."

" Does it ? " replied mamma,
suppressing a smile, "well goon
and see what else he says."

" I'm not a Screech Owl, nor a
BarnOwLnor aGreatHornedOwl,
nor a Long-eared Owl, though
I am related to each of them.
Mr. Screech Owl thinks he is
a singer, and so does Mr. Horned
Owl. Between you and me, I
think both their songs most dole-
ful ditties. One gentleman says
Mr. Horned Owl hoots in B flat,
another says in F sharp, and
another in A flat. I must con-
fess it all sounds very flat to me.
" I don't pretend to sing at all.

Sometimes I feel like saying
something, just to hear the sound
of my own voice, and then I
shout l Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo! ' as loud
as I can. If there are little
Owls in the nest, and anything
approaches them, I give a shrill,
hollow cry, at the same time
snapping my bill spitefully.

1 1 am sometimes called the
Marsh Owl, because I frequent
the grassy Marshes instead of
the woods. I don't confine my-
self to prowling around only in
the night time, like some Owls I
know, but you will see me about
also on dark days, and some-
times even when the sun is
shining.

" My eyes, you see, are round
and yellow just like a cat's,
shining in the dark like his.
Indeed there is a good deal of
the cat in my nature. When
stealing on my prey I go about
it just as stealthily as he does.
Like him I catch mice too, but
I also like beetles, gophers, and
all sorts of little water birds.

" I have only two eyes, but I
have two sets of eyelids. One I
draw over my eyes in the day
time, a thin sort of curtain to
keep out the light, and the other
a heavy curtain which I pull
down when I go to sleep. I'm
going to sleep now. Good night!
or, rather, good morning! "

THE SHORT-EARED OWL.

ARSH OWL, Meadow
Owl, and Prairie Owl,
are some of the names of
this species of
interesting
found throughout
in

an

family,
North
greater

which is

America at large, though
numbers in the Arctic regions during
the nesting season than in the United
States. It is believed that no land bird
has so extensive a range as this species,
occurring, as it does, throughout all
the grand divisions of the earth's sur-
face, except Australia. In America it
is found everywhere in favorable local-
ities, from Alaska and Greenland to
Cape Horn. Truly a cosmopolitan
bird, observed by the inhabitants of
nearly all countries.

The Short-eared Owl is seen in the
marshes, the thickets of bottom lands,
and Davie says it seems to be particu-
larly common in the tall weeds and
grass of fields and meadows. In the
west it is found on the extensive
prairies, along sloughs, hiding in the
day time among the sage bushes and
tall grass. It is a night wanderer, but
often hunts its food on dark days, and
field mice, moles, shrews, and other
small rodents are captured by it while
on noiseless wing, or while standing
motionless watching for its prey.

The nest of the Short-eared Owl is
made on the ground in the matted
grass of marsh land ; sometimes in a
depression at the foot of a bush, beside
a log, or in a burrow made by a rabbit
or a muskrat. A few sticks, soft

grasses, and some of its own feathers
usually comprise the nest proper,
though the eggs are not infrequently
laid on the bare ground. These are
from four to seven, white and oval.
In Ohio they are laid in April, some-
times as early as the latter part of
March, or as late as the middle of May,
within which dates it doubtless may
be found breeding throughout the
United States.

Mr. Nelson says that this is the most
abundant species of the Owl family.
They are common everywhere in Illi-
nois during the winter, remaining
concealed in a bunch of grass or weeds
until almost two o'clock p. m., when
they commence flying low over the
ground in search of food. When
approached, while standing on the
ground, they crouch and try to escape
observation. They are harmless and
are easily tamed, and as a rule, are
silent. Mr. Nelson heard one of the
birds, in Alaska, utter rapidly a loud
cry which sounded like the syllables
Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, in a higher key than
the note of the Horned Owl, and in a
a much less sonorous tone. When
alarmed for their young, they have been
heard to utter a shrill hollow cry, and
at the same time make quite a noise
by spitefully snapping their bills.

We fancy the Owl family alone will
enable BIRDS to furnish a collection
of pictures — perhaps forty in number —
that will fascinate the bird lover, and
make him eager to possess other
groups for study, wonder, and delight.

26

From col. O. C. Pagin.

SHORT-EARED OWL.
2/5 Life size.

Copyrighted by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 18«S, Chicago.

THE ROSE COCKATOO.

I look like a foreigner, don't
I ? You may search through
the forests of America and you
won't find a bird that looks like

My family live in New Guinea;
we speak English when we get
among English people, Spanish
when we get among Spanish
people, and French when we get
among French people.

If you don't believe it, just say
" Parlez-vous Francais, Monsieur ? "
and see how quickly I'll open
my pretty mouth and answer

If you don't understand that,
ask your teacher what it means.
I once lived in a French family,
you see.

You don't think my mouth is
pretty, did you say ? Well, that
is according to taste. I think it
is. Of course, my bill turns in
like a hook, as Miss Poll Parrot's
does, and my tongue is thick
like hers, but I fancy I talk much
plainer than she does. Anyway
I talk louder. Why, if you
should happen to hear, without

seeing me, you would think it
was a man's strong voice talking
to a deaf person.

And then my laugh ! You
should hear me laugh when I'm
angry. Whew ! Have you ever
heard a hyena in the Zoo ? Well,
it sounds something like that.

I am a large, handsome bird.
My eyes also are large, and so
are my feet. That is the reason
I not only talk, but walk Spanish,
I suppose.

But, my cap ! That is what
distinguishes me. You never
saw a common Parrot with a
crest like that. When I am
angry the feathers stand straight
up, opening and closing just like
a lady's fan.

The next time your mamma or
papa takes you to the Zoo, turn
to the cage of foreign birds and
see if one of our family is not
there. Maybe he will talk to
you and maybe he'll not. He
would if you could get into his
cage and stroke his head. I am
sure he would laugh if you tell
him Mr. Eose Cockatoo sends his
love.

29

THE ROSE COCKATOO,

HE Rose Cockatoo, as may be
seen, is a remarkably hand-
some bird. The species is
gregarious, and they are very
numerous in South Australia, where
they frequent woods and feed on seeds,
fruits, and larvae of insects. Their
note is harsh and unmusical. The
young ones tame readily and some
species show remarkable intelligence.
They associate in flocks of from one
hundred to one thousand and do great
damage to newly planted grain, for
which reason they are mercilessly
destroyed by farmers. Two eggs only,
of a pure white color, are laid in the
holes of decayed trees or in the fissures
of rocks, according to the nature of
the locality in which they live.

This is a rather large bird, equalling
a common fowl in dimensions, and
assuming a much larger form when it
ruffles up its feathers while under the
influence of anger. Many of these
birds are fine talkers, and their voice
is peculiarly full and loud.

An authentic anecdote is told of a
Cockatoo which was quite celebrated
for its powers of conversation ; but as
he was moulting at the time, his voice
was temporarily silenced, and he sat in
a very disconsolate manner on his
perch, looking as if he had fallen into
a puddle and not had time to arrange his
plumage. All the breast and fore-parts
of the body were quite bare of feathers
and even the beautiful crest had a
sodden and woe-begone look. By dint,
however, of talking to the bird and
rubbing his head, he was induced to

say a few words, which were given in
a voice as full and rounded as that of
a strong voiced man accustomed to
talk to deaf people. Presently the
spectators were startled with a deafen-
ing laugh, not unlike that of the
hyena, but even louder and more weird-
like. On turning around, they saw
the Cockatoo suddenly transformed
into a totally different bird, his whole
frame literally blazing with excite-
ment, his crest flung forward to the
fullest extent, and repeatedly spread
and closed like the fan of an angry
Spanish lady, every feather standing
on end and his eyes sparkling with
fury while he volleyed forth the
sounds which had so startled them.
The cause of this excitement was the
presence of two children who had come
to look at the bird, and whom he
recognized as having formerly excited
his ire. He always objected to chil-
dren, and being naturally irritable from
the effect of moulting his temper
became uncontrollable.

The Cockatoo is not gifted with
the wonderful imitating powers of the
true Parrot, and on account of its deaf-
ening cries is not an agreeable inhab-
itant of the house. It is in a state of
nature that the birds are most inter-
esting. They are not shy or wary, are
very vociferous, and, like the common
Parrots, rise up in bodies toward sunset
and fly two-and-two to their resting
places. It is a superb sight to see
thousands of these beautiful creatures
flying overhead, low enough to permit
a full view of their feathered mantles.

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

COCKATOO.

% Life-size.

Copyrighted hy
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898. Chicago.

PLEAS FOR THE SPEECHLESS.

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. — SHAKESPEARE.

IF all the birds should die, not a
human being could live on
earth, for the insects on which
the birds live would increase so
enormously as to destroy all
vegetation. — MICHELET.

Prof. E. E. Fish estimates that birds
save, for agricultural purposes alone,
annually, one hundred million dollars
in the United States, and we are told
that insect life in many places has
increased so as to make human life
almost unendurable.

The bravest are ever the most
humane, the most gentle, the most
kind ; and if any one would be truly
brave, let him learn to be gentle and
tender to everyone and everything
about him. — REV. ARTHUR SEWELL.

" Every first thing continues forever
with a child ; the first color, the first
music, the first flowers paint the fore-
ground of life. The first inner or
outer object of love, injustice, or such
like, throws a shadow immeasurably
far along his after years." — JEAN PAUL
RlCHTER.

We have long ago found that the
great remedy for all these wrongs lies,
not in law and prosecuting officers,
but in the public and private schools ;
that a thousand cases of cruelty can
be prevented by kind words and
humane education, for every one that
can be prevented by prosecution ; and
that if we are ever going to accomplish
anything of permanent value for the
protection of those whom our societies
are organized to protect, it must be
through the kind assistance of the
teachers in our public and private
schools.

We found another important fact,
that when children were taught to be
kind to animals, to spare in spring-
time the mother-bird with its nest full
of young, to pat the horses, and play
with the dogs, and speak kindly to all
harmless living creatures, they became
more kind, not only to animals, but
also to each other. — GEO. T. ANGELL.

I am in thorough accord with the
proposition to have the birds protected,
and my words cannot be clothed in
too strong language. We are a nation
of vandals. Birds make the choir of
the heavens an,d should be protected.
— CARDINAL GIBBONS.

THE MOUNTAIN PARTRIDGE.

/> nr ^

(^ I HIS, one of the most beautiful

^ I of the Partridges, is much

OJ I larger and handsomer than

""*•'• Bob White, though perhaps

not so interesting or attractive as a

game bird. The pretty plumes are

noticeable in the chick just from the

egg, in the form of a little tuft of

down, and their growth is gradual

until the perfect plumage of the adult

is obtained.

The Mountain Partridge is found
breeding along the Pacific coast region
from California north into Washington.
According to the observer Emerson,
it is found nesting in the higher
mountain ranges, not below four
thousand feet. In some portions of
Oregon it is very abundant, and would
be sought for by the sportsman with
great assiduity were the regions that
it inhabits more accessible. As it is,
it is not only hard to find but very

difficult to secure when once flushed,,
hiding easily from the dogs, who
become discouraged by repeated
unsuccessful efforts to find it.

The Mountain Partridge deposits its
eggs on the ground, on a bed of dead
leaves, under a bush or tuft of grass
or weeds. Its habits are exceedingly
like those of the Bob White. From six
to twelve eggs are laid of a cream color,
with a reddish tint. They have b~en
described as mineatures of those of
the Ruffed Grouse, only distinguishable
by their smaller size.

This Partridge will usually run
before the dog, is flushed only with
much trouble, and often takes to the
trees after being started. California
is comparatively destitute of wood
except on inaccessible mountain sites
and canons, localities preferred by these
birds. It is not known to descend
to the valleys.

BOB WHITE.

" I own the country here about," says Bob White ;

" At early morn I gayly shout, I'm Bob White !

From stubble field and stake-rail fence

You hear me call, without offense,

I'm Bob White ! Bob White !

Sometimes I think I'll ne'er more say, Bob White ;

It often gives me quite away, does Bob White ;

And mate and I, and our young brood,

When separate — wandering through the wood,

Are killed by sportsmen I invite

By my clear voice — Bob White ! Bob White !

Still, don't you find I'm out of sight

While I am saying Bob White, Bob White ?"

— C. C. M.

34

\

THE NEW TENANTS,

BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.

" Father and mother are building a nest ;
They have found in Greenwood the place that is best.
They are working so hard through the long summer day,
Gathering grasses and hair and hay.

They are so happy, for soon they will hear
The eager ' ' Peep, peep ! " of their babies so dear.
Dear mother, gather them safe 'neath each wing ;
Kind father, hasten, for food you must bring.

Now mother and father will teach them to fly:
" Come, timid birdies ; come, try ; come, try.
Fly out in the Greenwood, dear birdies, with me ;
Then back to the nest in the dear old tree."

Mrs. Wren was busy that morning.
She had been away all winter, among
the trees in the south, but was back
in the old neighborhood now, getting
her house in order for the summer
season.

Mr. Wren, with a number of other
gentlemen Wrens, had arrived some
weeks before and had been kept pretty
busy looking about for a desirable
apartment in which to set up house-
keeping. Several had struck him as
being just the thing, among them a
gourd which one thoughtful family
had set for a Chickadee. " I'll fetch
some sticks and straws and put a few
in each house," said he, with the
greediness of his kind, " so the other
birds will think it is rented. Mrs.
Wren is so particular maybe none
of them will suit her. She always
wants something better than Mrs. John
Wren, her cousin, and I notice Mr.
John looking about in this neighbor-
hood, too."

In the low bushes and shrubbery
Mr. Wren flitted from day to day,

keeping his eye on one apartment,
especially, which he considered par-
ticularly fine.

" I do wish she would hurry up," he
thought, anxious for Mrs. Wren to
arrive. " It takes a female so long to
get ready to go anywhere. I saw an
impudent Blue Jay around here this
morning and he may take a fancy to
that apartment up there. I wouldn't
like to tackle him, and so, to let him
see that it is rented, I'll fetch a few
more straws," and off Mr. Wren flew,
returning in a very little while with
his bill full.

Well, about the first of April Mrs.
Wren arrived, quite tired with her
journey, but as sprightly and talkative
as ever. Mr. Wren greeted her with
one of his loudest songs, and they flew
about chattering and singing for quite
a while.

" I suppose," said she, resting at
length on the limb of a maple tree,
" that you have been flying about, eat-
ing and drinking and talking with the
other Mr. Wrens, and not looking for

37

a house at all. That is the way with
your sex generally, when there is any
work to be done."

"Oh, it is?" said Mr. Wren, his
feathers ruffled in a minute. " That's
my reward for staying about this house
and the grounds all the time, is it ?
My whole time has been taken up in
house hunting, let me tell you, Mrs.
Wren, and in keeping my eye on one
particular apartment which is to let up
there."

" Where ? " chirped Mrs. Wren, her
bright eyes traveling up and down the
side of the house before them. "I
don't see a box or crevice any where.* '

"Oh, you don't?" said Mr. Wren,
mimicing her tone and air, "not a
single box or crevice anywhere. Who
said anything about either, I'd like to
know? "

"Why, you did, Mr. Wren," said
Mrs. Jenny, every feather on top of
her head standing on end. " You did,
as plain as could be."

" I said nothing of the sort," retorted
Mr. Wren, " I never mentioned a box
or crevice once."

" Then what did you say," returned
Mrs. Wren with a little cackling sort
of a laugh, " what kind of a house is
up there to let anyway ? "

" Talk about females being as sharp
as we males," muttered Mr. Wren, " I
never saw so stupid a creature in my
life " — then aloud, " don't you see that
tin tea-pot hanging on a nail under
the porch, Mrs. Wren ? "

"A tin tea-pot !" scornfully. "Do
you think a bird born and bred as I
was would go to housekeeping in an
old tea-pot, Mr. Wren? You forget,
surely that my father was a "

" Oh, bother your father,'' ungal-
lantly retorted Mr. Wren. " I'm tired
and sick of that subject. If you don't
like the looks of that house up there
say so, and I'll take you to see several
others."

" Oh, well," said Mrs. Wren, who
all the time had thought the tea-pot
just the cutest little apartment in the
world, " I'll fly up there and examine
it. Maybe it will do."

" It's just lovely," she announced,
flying back to the tree, and for a min-
ute or two they chattered and sang,
and fluttered about in such a joyful
manner that some of their bird neigh-
bors flew over, curious to hear and see.

" Still," remarked Mrs. Jenny the
next day, when fetching material for
the nest, " I had hoped, my dear, that
you would have followed my father's
example in selecting a house for your
family."

"Still harping on { my father,'"
groaned Mr. Wren, dropping on the
porch the straws he had fetched in
his bill. "Well," cheerfully, "how
did he do, my dear? "

"As a bird of courage would, Mr.
Wren. He never looked for a vacant
house, not he ! From place to place,
from tree to tree he flew, and when he
espied a nest which pleased him, off
he chased the other bird and took
possession. Bluebird or Martin, it was
all the same to him. Ah, indeed, my
father was a great warrior."

"Hm, yes ! " said Mr. Wren, who
didn't like to be thought less brave
than another. " That accounted for
his one eye and lame leg, I presume."

" The scars of battle are not to be
laughed at, Mr. Wren," loftily said

Mrs. Jenny, " Papa's one eye and
crooked leg were objects of great pride
to his family."

" The old scoundrel," muttered Mr.
Wren, who looked upon his father-in-
law as no better than a robber, but to
keep peace in the family he said no
more, and with a gush of song flew off
to gather some particularly nice sticks
for the nest.

For some days Mr. and Mrs. Wren
were too busy to pay much attention
to their neighbors. Mr. Wren, unlike
some birds he knew, did not do all the
singing while his mate did the work,
but fetched and carried with the utmost
diligence, indeed brought more sticks,
Mrs. Wren told her friends, than she
had any use for.

" Such a litter, ma'am," said Bridget
the next morning to the mistress of
the house, " as I do be afther sweepin'
up from the porch ivery day. A pair
of birds, I do be thinkin', are after
building a nest in that owld tin pot on
the wall. Its this day I'm goin' to
tear it down, so I am. Birds are
nuisances anyway, and its not Bridget
O'Flaherty that's goin' to be clanin'
afther them, at all, at all."

" Oh don't ! " chorused the children,
we want to see with our own eyes how
the birds go to housekeeping in the
Spring. Its ever so much better than
just reading about it. Tell Bridget,
mamma," they pleaded, "to leave the
pot alone."

Mamma, who found bird-life a delight-
ful study, was only too willing to give
the desired command, and thus it
chanced that Mr. and Mrs. Wren grew
quite accustomed to many pair of eyes
watching them at their work of build-
ing a nest, every day.

" Do you know," said Mrs. Wren,
placing a particularly fine feather in
the nest one day, " that I have a notion
to name our birdlings, when they
come out of their shell, after our land-
lady's family ? I think it is not more
than fair, since we have got a cute
apartment and no rent to pay."

"A capital idea!" chirped Mr. Wren,
" her children have such pretty names,
too."

" And pretty manners," returned
Mrs. Wren, who, being of such genteel
birth, was quick to recognize it in
others. " Let me see, there's just six.
Pierre, Emmett, Walter, Henry, Bobby,
and that darling little fair-haired girl,
Dorothy. I had my head tucked
under my wing the other evening, but
all the same I heard her speaking a
piece that she said she had learned at
school that day.

" Yes," said Mr. Wren, tilting his
tail over his back and singing loudly,
" I think we are very fortunate to have
such a family for our neighbors. You can
pick up so many things their mamma
says to the children, and teach our
birdies the same lessons, you know."

"Of course,'' said Mrs. Wren, stand-
ing on the edge of the pot and eyeing
her work with great satisfaction, "I had
thought of that before. I already have
some of her sayings in my mind. But
come, we musn't be standing here
chattering all day. The nest must be
ready to-morrow for the first egg."

" Hm! You don't say ?'' replied Mr.
Wren, beginning to count his toes,
" Why, bless me, to-morrow is the
twelfth day. Well, well, how time flies
when one is busy and happy," and off
they both flew, singing as they went
for very joy.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

39

SUMMARY.

Page 6.

CROWNED PIGEON.— Columbidcs goura.

RANGE — New Guinea and the neighboring
islands.

Page 10.

RED-EYED VIREO.— Vireo olivaceus.

RANGE; — Eastern North America, west to Col-
orado, Utah, and British Columbia ; north to
the Arctic regions ; south in winter,from Florida
to northern South America. Breeds nearly
throughout its North American range.

NEST — Pensile from horizoatal branches of
trees, five to twenty feet above the ground ;
made of vegetable fibres and strips of pliable
bark, lined with fine round grasses, horse hairs,
and the like.

EGGS — Three or four, pure white, sparsely
sprinkled with fine, dark reddish-brown dots,
chiefly at the larger end.

Page 14.

FOX SPARROW.— Passerella iliaca.

RANGE — Eastern North America, west to the
plains and Alaska, and from the Arctic coast
south to the Gulf states. Winters chiefly south
of the Potomac and Ohio rivers.

NEST — Of grass and moss, lined with grass
and fine feathers ; on the ground, concealed by
the drooping branches of evergreens.

EGGS — Four or five, pale bluish green,
speckled, spotted, and blotched with reddish-
brown, or uniform chocolate brown.

Page 18.

BOB-WHITE. — Colinus virginianus.

RANGE — Eastern United States ; west to the
Dakotas, Kansas, Indian Territory and eastern
Texas ; north to southern Maine and Southern
Canada ; south to the Atlantic and Gulf States.

NEST — On the ground, of grasses, straws,
leaves, or weeds.

EGGS — Fifteen to twenty-five, often only
twelve, but usually about eighteen, of pure
white.

Page 23.

PASSENGER PIGEON.— Ectopistes migra-
torius. Other name: " Wild Pigeon."

RANGE — Eastern North America, from Hud-
son Bay southward, and west to the Great Plains,
straggling thence to Nevada and Washington
Breeding range now mainly restricted to por-
tions of the Canadas and the northern border of
the United States, as far west as Manitoba and
the Dakotas.

NEST— In trees; a mere platform of sticks.

EGGS — Usually one, never more than two,
pure white, and broadly elliptical in shape.

Page 27.

SHORT-EARED OWL.— Asia actipitrinus.
Other name : " Marsh Owl."

RANGE — Entire North America ; nearly cos-
mopolitan.

NEST — On the ground in the matted grass of
marsh land, of a few sticks, soft grasses, and
some of its own feathers.

EGGS — Four to seven, white, and oval in shape.

Page 31.

ROSE COCKATOO.— Cacatua Leadbeateri.
RANGE — South Australia.
NEST — In holes of decayed trees, or in fissures
of rocks.
EGGS — Two, of pure white.

Page 35.

MOUNTAIN PARTRIDGE.— Oreortyx pic-
tus. Other name : " Plumed Partridge."

RANGE — Pacific coast from San Francisco
north to Washington.

NEST — On the ground, consisting of a bed of
dead leaves, under a bush or tuft of grass or
weeds.

EGGS — Six to twelve, of a cream color with a
reddish tint.

BIRDS.

iLLUSTRflTED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

VOL. III.

FEBRUARY, 1898.

No. 2.

GILBERT WHITE AND "SELBORNE."

SUPPOSE that a habit of minute
observation of nature is one of
the most difficult things to

acquire, as it is one which is

less generally pursued than any
other study. In almost all departments
of learning and investigation there have
been numberless works published to il-
lustrate them, and textbooks would fill
the shelves of a large library. Thoreau
in his Walden has shown an extremely
fine and close observation of the scenes
in which his all too short life was
passed, but his object does not seem at
any time to have been the study of
nature from an essential love of it, or
to add to his own or the world's knowl-
edge. On the contrary, nature was the
one resource which enabled him to
exemplify his notions of independence,
which were of such a sturdy and un-
compromising character that Mr.
Emerson, who had suffered some in-
convenience from his experience of
Thoreau as an inmate of his household,
thought him fitter to meet occasionally
in the open air than as a guest at
table and fireside. There is a delicious
harmony with nature in all that he has
written, but his descriptions of out-of-
door life invite us rather to indolent
musing than to investigation or study.
Who after reading Izaak Walton ever
went a-fishing with the vigor and enter-
prise of Piscator? Washington Irv-
ing allowed his cork to drift with the
current and lay down in the shadow of

a spreading oak to dream with the be-
loved old author.

In White's "Natural History of
Selborne" we have a unique book
indeed, but of a far more general
interest than its title would indicate.
Pliny, the elder, was the father of
natural history but to many of us Gil-
bert White is entitled to that honor. To
an early edition of the book, without
engravings, and much abridged, as
compared with Bohn's, published in
1851, many owe their first interest in
the subject.

Mr. Ireland in his charming little
u Book Lever's Enchiridion," tells us
that when a boy he was so delighted
with it, that in order to possess a copy
of his own (books were not so cheap
as now) he actually copied out the
whole work. In a list of one hundred
books, Sir John Lubbock mentions
it as "an inestimable blessing."
Edward Jesse, author of "Gleanings
in Natural History" attributes his own
pursuits as an out-door naturalist
entirely to White's example. Much
of the charm of the book consists in
the amiable character of the author,
who

" lived in solitude, midst trees and flowers,

Life's sunshine mingling with its passing

showers ;

No storms to startle, and few clouds to shade
The even path his Christian virtues made."

Very little is known of him beyond
what he has chosen to mention in his

diaries, which were chiefly records of
his daily studies and observations, and
in his correspondence, from which the
" history " is in fact made up. From
these it is evident that his habits were
secluded and that he was strongly
attached to the charms of rural life.
He says the greater part of his time
was spent in literary occupations, and
especially in the study of nature. He
was born July 18, 1720, in the house
in which he died. His father was his
first instructor in natural history, and
to his brother Thomas, a fellow of the
Royal Society, he was indebted for
many suggestions for his work. It
is also to his brother's influence that
we owe the publication of the book, as
it required much persuasion to induce
the philosopher to pass through the
ordeal of criticism, " having a great
dread of Reviewers," those incorrigible
betes noirs of authors. His brother
promising himself to review the work
in the "Gentleman's Magazine," White
reluctantly consented to its publication.
The following short abstract from the
review will show its quality, as well as
suggest a possible answer to the current
question propounded by students of the
census.

"Contemplative persons see with
regret the country more and more
deserted every day, as they know that
every well-regulated family of property
which quits a village to reside in a
town, injures the place that is forsaken
in material circumstances. It is with
pleasure, therefore, we observe that so
rational an employment of leisure hours
as the study of nature promises to
become popular, since whatever adds
to the number of rural amusements,
and consequently counteracts the
allurements of the metropolis is, on this
consideration, of national importance."

It is to be feared, however, that
many stronger influences than this of
the study of nature will be necessary
to keep the young men of the present
day from the great cities. Indeed,

modern naturalists themselves spend
the greater part of their lives at the
centers of knowledge and only make
temporary sallies into the woods and
fields to gather data. White was
a noble pioneer. The very minute-
ness— almost painful — of his observa-
vation required him to occupy
himself for days and weeks and
months with what to the average
mind would seem of the slightest
importance. As an example of
his patient investigation, his fam-
ous study of the tortoise may
be given. It was more than thirt/ years
old when it came into his possession,
and for many years — perhaps twenty
— we find White watching the habits
of the interesting old reptile, until we
may assume, he knew all about him
and his species.

There are over three hundred and
fifty different species of animals and
birds treated by White, most of them
exhaustively ; the beach tree, the elm,
and the oak are described and watched
from year to year ; and the geology
and fossil remains of Selborne district
are presented. We have daily accounts
of the weather,* information of the first
tree in leaf, the appearance of the first
fungi and the plants first in blossom.
He tells us when mosses vegetate, when
insects first appear and disappear,
when birds' are first seen and when
they migrate — and a thousand other
things ; all in a style of such simplicity,
united with rare scholarship, that it1 is
well worth the attention and imita-
tion of students of the English'
language. White was educated at'
Oxford. He had frequent opportunities,
'tis said, of accepting college livings,'
but his fondness for his native village
made him decline all preferment. To
this we owe " Selborne " of which Dr.
Beardmore, a distinguished scholar,
made the prophetic remark to a
nephew of White's : Your uncle has
sent into the world a publication with
nothing to attract attention to it but

an advertisement or two in the news-
papers; but depend upon it the time
will come when very few who buy
books will be without it."

The village was far less attractive
than our imaginations would depict it
to have been, and the traveler who

would " view fair Selborne aright,"
according to a contemporary writer,
should humor the caprices of the
English climate and visit it only when
its fields and foliage are clothed in
their summer verdure.

— CHARLES C. MARBLE.

A FRIEND OF BIRDS

IT is told of George H. Corliss, the
famous engine builder of Prov-
idence, R. I., that when build-
ing a foundry at the Corliss
works, some Blue Birds took
the opportunity to build in some holes
in the interior framework into which
horizontal timbers were to go. The
birds flew in and out — as Blue Birds
will — and went on with their house-
keeping, until in the natural course of
things the workmen would have
evicted them to put the apertures to
their intended use of receiving timbers.
But Mr. Corliss interfered and showed
how the particular aperture the birds
were occupying could be left undis-
turbed until they were done with it,
without any serious delay to the build-
ing. So the pair came and went in
the midst of the noise of building and
brought up their little family safely,
and after they had flown away, and
not until then, that particular part of
the framework was completed.

At another time, Mr. Corliss was
working on a contract with the city of
Providence to supply a steam pumping
apparatus, power house and all, at
Sockonosset, and the time was short,
and there were forfeitures nominated
in the bond for every day beyond a
a specified date for its completion.

The power house was to be upon
virgin soil where were rocks and trees
— little trees growing among rocks.
In blasting and clearing the necessary
place for the foundations of the build-
ing, a Robin's nest was discovered in
a little tree within the space where the
upheavals were to be made. When
Mr. Corliss knew this he had the work
transferred to the other side of the
square or parellelogram around which
the digging and blasting were to go,
saying that it was just as well to do
the other side first.

But it proved that when the work-
men had got clear around and back
to the Robin's tree, the young birds
were still not quite ready to fly. This
called for a new exercise of an invent-
or's power of adapting means to a
worthy end. Looking at the little
tree with its nest and little birds high
in the branches he-bade the men sup-
port the ^tree carefully while it was
sawed through the trunk a little above
the ground,? and t&jen" carry it in an
upright, .positi&n'^&fo a safe distance and
stick it' into ""the ground with proper
support.

The Robin family continued to
thrive after this novel house-moving
and all flew away together after a few
more days.

43

QUEER DOINGS OF A CRANE.

WRITER on "Animal Help-
ers and Servers " gives a
remarkable account of a
tame Crane, communi-
cated by Von Seyffert.
Von Seyffert had a pair of tame Cranes
which soon lost all fear of man and of
domestic animals, and became strongly
attached to the former. Their life in
a German village, in which agriculture
was the sole employment and the com-
munal system of joint herding of
cattle and swine and driving them
together to the common pasture pre-
vailed, was very much to their taste.
They soon knew all the inhabitants in
the place and used to call regularly
at the houses to be fed. Then the
female died and the survivor at once
took as a new friend a bull. He stood
by the bull in the stall and kept the
flies off him, screamed when he roared,
danced before him and followed him
out with the herd. In this association
the Crane learned the duties of cow-
herd, so that one evening he brought
home the whole of the village herd of
heifers unaided and drove them into
the stable. From that time the Crane

undertook so many duties that he was
busy from dawn till night. He acted
as policeman among the poultry,
stopping all fights and disorder. He
stood by a horse when left in a cart
and prevented it from moving by
pecking its nose and screaming. A
Turkey and a Game Cock were found
fighting, whereon the Crane first fought
the Turkey, then sought out and
thrashed the cock. Meantime it
herded the cattle, not always with
complete success. The bovines were
collected in the morning by the sound
of a horn and some would lag behind.
On one occasion the Crane went back,
drove up some lagging heifers through
the street and then frightened them
so much that they broke away and ran
two miles in the wrong direction. The
bird could not bring them back, but
drove them into a field, where it
guarded them until they were fetched.
It would drive out trespassing cattle
as courageously as a dog and, unlike
most busybodies, was a universal fav-
orite and pride of the village. — Cornhill
Magazine.

44

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?#: ;

THE LEAST BITTERN.

(5 THROUGHOUT the whole of

4 I temperate North America and
OJ I tropical America to Brazil,
-^ this, the smallest of the Bittern
family, is a well-known bird, but being
a nocturnal species, inhabiting the
almost inaccessible swamps and boggy
lands that are covered with a dense
growth of canes, reeds, and rushes, it
is seldom met with. Mr. Davis calls
it an extremely interesting little bird,
of quiet, retiring habits. In some
places as many as a dozen or twenty
pairs breed along the grassy shores of
a small lake or pond. The nest is
placed on the ground or in the
midst of the rankest grass, or in a
bush. It is often placed on floating
bog, and is simply a platform of dead
rushes.

This bird has many odd habits.
When standing on the edge of a stream,
with its neck drawn in. it is often

taken for a Woodcock, the long bill
giving it this appearance. It is so
stupid at times that it may be caught
with the hand.

The Least Bittern is usually seen
just before or after sunset. When
startled it utters a low gua, and in day-
light flies but a short distance, in a
weak, uncertain manner, but at dusk
it flaps along on strong easy wing,
with neck drawn in and legs extended.

The eggs of this species are usually
from two to six in number, and of a
pale bluish or greenish white. If
approached while on the nest, the
female generally steps quietly to one
side, but if suddenly surprised, takes
to flight.

The Least Bittern is known by
many local names. In Jamaica it is
called Tortoise-shell Bird and Minute
Bittern, and in many localities Little
Bittern.

"All Nature is a unit in herself,

Yet but a part of a far greater whole.

Little by little you may teach your child

To know her ways and live in harmony

With her; and then, in turn, help him through her

To find those verities within himself,

Of which all outward things are but the type.

So when he passes from your sheltering care

To walk the ways of men, his soul shall be

Knit to all things that are, and still most free ;

And of him shall be writ at last this word —

'At peace with nature, with himself, and God.' "

47

THE BALD-PATE DUCK.

1 There seem to be as many
Ducks as there are Owls," re-
marks Bobbie. " This fellow is
called Bald-pate, but he's not
bare on top of his head like
Gran'pa, at all."

" No, his head is feathered as
well as any Duck's head,"
replies mamma. ' I remember
hearing him called the Widgeon,
I think."

1 Yes, that's what it says here,
the American Widgeon, a game
bird, you know, mamma."

1 Yes, its flesh is very delic-
ious, almost as good as the
Canvas-back."

" Oh, but these Bald-pates are
cunning fellows," exclaims Bob-
bie, continuing his reading, " It
says they are fond of a certain
grass plant which grows deep in
both salt and fresh water, but
they don't dive for it as the
Canvas-back and other deep
water Ducks do."

'Well?" says mamma, as
Bobbie stops, his lips moving,
but uttering no sound.

u I stopped to spell a word,"
explains Bobbie. u It says they
closely follow and watch the
Canvas-back and other Ducks,
and when they rise to the sur-
face of the water with the roots
of the plant in their bills, Mr.
Bald-pate quickly snatches a
part, or all of the catch, and

hurries off to eat it at his
leisure."

"A mean fellow, indeed," re-
marks mamma, " but he has no
reason to guide him, as you
have, you know."

>l Indeed I dorit know," quickly
says Bobbie. " You remember
that story about the imprisoned
Duck that had its leg broken
and was put under a small crate,
or coop, to keep it from running
about? Well, some of the other
Ducks pitied the little prisoner
and tried to release him by forc-
ing their necks under the crate
and thus lifting it up. They
found they weren't strong enough
to do that, and so they quacked,
and quacked, and quacked among
themselves, then marched away
in a body. Soon they came back
with forty ducks, every one in
the farm yard. They sur-
rounded the crate and tried to
lift it as before, but again they
failed. Then they quacked some
more, and after a long talk the
whole of them went to one side
of the crate. As many as could
thrust their necks underneath it,
and the rest pushed them for-
ward from behind. A good
push, a strong push, up went the
crate a little way, and out wad-
dled the little prisoner. I want
to know if they didn't reason
that out, mamma? "

THE BALDPATE.

We would have you to wit, that on eggs though we sit,
And are spiked on a spit, and are baked in a pan,

Birds are older by far than your ancestors are,

And made love and made war, ere the making of man !

— ANDREW LANG.

HERE is much variation in the
^ I plumage of adult males of this
Q) I species of Widgeon, but as
-1- Dr. Coues says : " The bird
cannot be mistaken under any condi-
tion ; the extensive white of the under
parts and wings is recognizable at
gun-range." The female is similar,
but lacks the white crown and irrides-
cence on the head.

The Baldpate ranges over the whole
of North America. In winter it is
common in the Gulf states and lower
part of the Mississippi Valley. Cooke
says it breeds chiefly in the north, but is
known to nest in Manitoba, the Dakotas,
Minnesota, Nebraska, Kansas, Illinois,
and Texas. Throughout the whole of
British America, as far north as the
Arctic ocean, it is very abundant. In
October and April it visits in large
numbers the rivers and marshes, as
well as both sea coasts, of the northern
United States, and is much sought by
hunters, its flesh being of the finest
quality, as when in good condition it
cannot easily be distinguished from
that of the Canvas-back. It is regarded
by hunters as a great nuisance. It is
not only so shy that it avoids the points
of land, but by its whistling and con-
fused manner of flight is said to alarm
the other species. During its stay in
the waters of the Chesapeake, it is the
constant companion of the Canvas-
backs, upon whose superiority in div-
ing it depends in a large degree for its
food, stealing from them, as they rise
to the surface of the water, the tender
roots of the plant of which both are so
fond — vallisneria grass, or wild celery.

The Baldpate is said to visit the rice
fields of the south during the winter
in considerable numbers. It winters
in the Southern states, Mexico, and
the West Indies. In the north, the
Wigeon exhibits a greater preference
for rivers and open lakes than most
of the other fresh- water Ducks.

The favorite situation of the nest is
remarkable, for while the other Ducks
— except, perhaps, the Teal, accord-
ing to Mr. Kennicott — choose the
immediate vicinity of water, he found
the Baldplate always breeding at a
considerable distance from it. Several
of the nests observed on the Yukon
were fully half a mile from the nearest
water. He invariably found the nest
among dry leaves, upon high, dry
ground, either under large trees or in
thick groves of small ones — frequently
among thick spruces. The nest is
small, simply a depression among the
leaves, but thickly lined with down,
with which after setting is begun, the
eggs are covered when left by the
parent. They are from eight to twelve
in number, -and pale buff. The food of
the Baldpate consists of aquatic insects,
small shells, and the seeds and roots of
various plants.

The call of this bird is a plaintive
whistle of two and then three notes
of nearly equal duration. Col. N. S.
Goss states that, as a rule, Widgeons
" are not shy, and their note, a sort of
whe^iv, whew, whew, uttered while feed-
ing and swimming, enables the hunter
to locate them in the thickest growth
of water plants."

WOOING BIRDS' ODD WAYS.

F all the interesting points on
which Mr. Dixon . touches
in his " Curiosities of Bird
Life," perhaps none is more
remarkable than the strange
antics in which some birds indulge,
especially at the pairing season. With
what odd gestures will a smartly
dressed Cock -sparrow, for instance,
endeavor to cut a good figure in the
eyes of his demure and sober-tinted
lady-love !

To a similar performance, though
with more of dignity and action about
it, the Blackcock treats his wives, for,
unlike the better conducted though
often much calumniated sparrow, he
is not satisfied with a single mate. One
of the most characteristic of spring
sounds on Exmoor, as evening dark-
ens, or, still more, in the early hours
of the morning, is the challenge of
the Blackcock. In the month of April
he who is abroad early enough may
watch, upon the russet slopes of
Dunkery, a little party of Blackcock
at one of their recognized and probably
ancestral meeting-places, by one of the
little mooreland streams, or on the wet
edge of some swampy hollow. Each
bird crouches on a hillock, in the
oddest of attitudes — its head down, its
wings a-droop, its beautiful tail raised
— and utters at intervals strange,
almost weird notes, sometimes sug-
gestive of thepurrofaTurtle-dove,and
sometimes more like the cry of chamois.
Presently an old cock, grand in his
new black coat, will get up and march
backward and forward with his neck
stretched out and his wings trailing on
the ground. Now he leaps into the
air, sometimes turning right round
before he alights, and now again he
crouches close upon his hillock. It is
said that in places where black game
are few a single cock will go through
all this by himself, or at least with
only his wives for witnesses. But if
there are more cocks than one, the

proceedings generally end with a
fight. Where the birds are numerous
the young cocks, who are not allowed
to enter the arena with their elders, hold
unauthorized celebrations of their own.
There are many birds which thus,
like higher mortals, have their fits of
madness in the days of courtship. But
there are some, such as the spur-winged
Lapwing of La Plata, which are, like
the lady in the song, so fond of danc-
ing, especially of what the natives call
their serious dance, meaning a square
one, that they indulge in such per-
formances all the year, not in the day-
time only, but even on moonlight
nights. " If," says Mr. Hudson, who
tells the story, " a person watches any
two birds for some time — for they
live in pairs — he will see another Lap-
wing, one of a neighboring couple,
rise up and fly to them, leaving his
own mate to guard their chosen
ground, and instead of resenting this
visit as an unwarranted intrusion on
their domain, as they would certainly
resent the approach of almost any other
bird, they welcome it with notes and
signs of pleasure. Advancing to the
visitor, they place themselves behind
it ; then all three keeping step, begin
a rapid march, uttering resonant drum-
ming notes in time with their move-
ments ; the notes of the pair behind
them being emitted in a stream, like a
drum roll, while the leader utters loud
single notes at regular intervals. The
march ceases ; the leader elevates his
wings and stands motionless and erect,
still uttering loud notes, while the
other two with puffed-out plumage,
and standing exactly abreast, stoop
forward and downward until the top
of their beaks touch the ground, and,
sinking their rhythmical voices to a
murmur, remain for some time in this
posture. The performance is then over
and the visitor goes back to his own
ground and mate, to receive a visitor
himself later on." — London Daily News.

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

PURPLE FINCH.
% Life size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pulj_Co., 1898, Chicago.

THE PURPLE FINCH.

" The wind blows cold, the birds are still,
And skies are gray."

GROSBEAK,Crim-
son Finch, Strawberry
Bird, and Linnet are some
of the common names by
which this bird of bright
colors, sweet song, and sociable disposi-
tion is known. It is very numerous
in New England, but is found nesting
regularly in the northern tier of states,
North and South Dakota, Minnesota,
Wisconsin, Michigan, etc., northward,
and it is said to breed in northern
Illinois. In Nova Scotia it is exceed-
ing abundant.

Robert Ridgway says he first made
the acquaintance of the Purple Finch
at Mt. Carmel, in mid-winter, " under
circumstances of delightful memory.
The ground was covered with snow, —
the weather clear and bright, but cold.
Crossing a field in the outskirts of the
town, and approaching the line of tall,
dead rag-weeds which grew thickly in
the fence corners, a straggling flock of
birds was startled, flew a short distance,
and again alighted on the tall weed-
stalks, uttering as they flew, a musical,
metalic chink, chink. The beautiful
crimson color of the adult males,
heightened by contrast with the snow,
was a great surprise to the writer, then
.a boy of thirteen, and excited intense
interest in this, to him, new bird. On
subsequent occasions during the same
winter, they were found under like
circumstances, and also in ' sycamore '
or buttonwood trees, feeding on the
small seeds contained within the balls
of this tree."

Dr. Brewer says that the song of the
Purple Finch resembles that of the

Canary, and though less varied and
powerful, is softer, sweeter, and more
touching and pleasing. The notes
may be heard from the last of May
until late in September, and in the
long summer evening are often con-
tinued until it is quite dark. Their
song has all the beauty and pathos of
the Warbling Vireo, and greatly
resembles it, but is more powerful and
full in tone. It is a very interesting
sight to watch one of these little per-
formers in the midst of his song. He
appears perfectly absorbed in his work,
— his form is dilated, his crest is
erected, his throat expands, and he
seems to be utterly unconscious of all
around him. But let an intruder of
his own race appear within a few feet
of the singer, the song instantly ceases,
and in a violent fit of indignation, he
chases him away. S. P. Cheney says
that a careful observer told him that
he had seen the Linnet fly from the
side of his mate directly upward fifteen
or twenty feet, singing every instant
in the most excited manner till he
dropped to the point of starting. The
Yellow-breasted Chat has a like per-
formance. See Vol. II of BIRDS, p. 238.

The nest of the Finch is usually
placed in evergreens or orchard trees, at
a moderate distance from the ground.
It is composed of weed-stalks, bark
strips, rootlets, grasses, and vegetable
fibres, and lined with hair. The eggs
are four or five in number, dull green,
and spotted with dark brown.

Study his picture and habits and be
prepared to welcome this charming
spring visitant.

55

THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER

A little Woodpecker am I,
And you may always know

When I am searching for a worm,
For tap, tap, tap, I go.

Oh yes, I am proud of my ap-
pearance, but really I am not
proud of my name. Sometimes
I am called the u Zebra Bird,"
on account of the bands of white
and black on my back and wings.
That is a much prettier name, I
think, than the Red-bellied
Woodpecker, don't you? Cer-
tainly it is more genteel.

I know a bird that is called the
Red-eyed Vireo,because his eyes
are red. Well, my eyes are
red, too. Then why not call me
the Red - eyed Woodpecker?
Still the Woodpeckers are such
a common family I don't much
care about that either.

In the last February number
of BIRDS that saucy red-headed
cousin of mine had his picture
and a letter. Before very long
the Red-cockaded Woodpecker
will have his picture taken too,
I suppose.

Dear, dear ! If all the Wood-
peckers are going to write to
you, you will have a merry time.
Why, I can count twenty-four
different species of that family
and I have only four fingers, or
toes, to count on, and you little
folks have five. There may be
more of them, Woodpeckers I
mean, for all I know.

Speaking about toes! I have
two in front and two behind.
There are some Woodpeckers
that have only three, two in front
and one behind. It's a fact, I
assure you. I thought I would
tell you about it before one of
the three toed fellows got a
chance to write to you about it
himself.

I am not so shy and wary a
bird as some people think I am.
When I want an insect, or worm,
I don't care how many eyes are
watching me, but up the tree I
climb in my zig-zag fashion,
crying chaw-chaw, or chow-chow in
a noisy Sort of way. Sometimes
I say chuck, chuck, chuck! The
first is Chinese, and the last Eng-
lish, you know. You might
think it sounded like the bark of
a small dog, though.

I am fond of flies and catch
them on the wing. I like ripe
apples, too ; and oh, what a good
time I have in winter raiding
the farmer's corn crib! I have
only to hammer at the logs with
my sharp bill, and soon I can
squeeze myself in between them
and eat my fill. I understand
the farmer doesn't like it very
much.

From col. CM. Acad. Sciences.

RED -BELLIED WOODPECKER.
% Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pul>. Co., 1898. Chicago.

THE RED BELLIED WOODPECKER.

EBRA BIRD" is the
name by which this
handsome Woodpecker
will be recognized by
many readers. Some
regard it as the most beautiful of the
smaller species of its tribe. As may be
seen, the whole crown and nape are
scarlet in the male. In the female
they are only partly so, but sufficiently
to make the identification easy. A
bird generally of retired habits, seeking
the deepest and most unfrequented
forests to breed, it is nevertheless often
found in numbers in the vicinity of
villages where there are a few dead and
partially decayed trees, in which they
drill their holes, high up on a limb, or
in the bole of the tree. When engaged
in hammering for insects it frequently
utters a short, singular note, which
Wilson likens to the bark of a small
dog. We could never liken it to any-
thing, it is so characteristic, and must
be heard to be appreciated. Chaw,
chaw, repeated twice, and with vigor,
somewhat resembles the hoarse utter-
ance.

Prof. D. E. Lantz states that this
species in the vicinity of Manhattan,
Kansas, exhibits the same familiarity
as the Flicker, the Red-headed and
Downy Woodpeckers. About a dozen
nests were observed, the excavations
ranging usually less than twenty feet
from the ground. One nest in a bur-
row of a large dead limb of an elm

tree was found May 12, and contained
five eggs. The birds are very much
attached to their nests. If the nest is
destroyed by man or beast, the birds
almost immediately begin excavating
another nest cavity for the second set,
always in the vicinity of the first nest,
often in the same tree.

In its search for food, the " Zebra
Bird," regardless of the presence of
man, climbs in its usual spiral or zig-
zag manner the trees and their branches
"boldly uttering now and then its
familiar chaw, chaw, darting off occas-
ionally to catch a passing insect upon
the wing. Its flight is undulating, and
its habits in many respects are like
those of the Red-headed, but it is not
so much of an upland bird, or lover 01
berries and fruits, and therefore more
respected by the farmer. In contest
with the Red-head it is said to be
invariably vanquished.

The North American family 01
Woodpeckers — consisting of about
twenty-five species — is likely to be
brought together in BIRDS for the first
time. We have already presented sev-
eral species, and will figure others as we
may secure the finest specimens. Occas-
ionally a foreign Woodpecker will
appear. About three hundred and
fifty species are known, and they are
found in all the wooded parts of the
world except Australia and Mada-
gascar.

59

A FORCED PARTNERSHIP,

A pair of Robins had made their
nest on the horizontal branch of an
evergreen tree which stood near a
dwelling house, and the four young
had hatched when a pair of English
Sparrows selected the same branch for
their nest. When the Robins refused
to vacate their nest, the Sparrows pro-
ceeded to build theirs upon the outside

of the Robin's nest. To this the
Robins made no objection, so both
families lived and thrived together on
the same branch, with nests touching.
The young of both species developed
normally, and in due time left their
nests. The branch bearing both nests
is now preserved in the college
museum. — Oberlin College Bulletin.

WHAT IS AN EGG?

How many people crack an egg,
swallow the meat, and give it no
further thought. Yet, to a reflective
mind the egg constitutes, it has been
said, the greatest wonder of nature.
The highest problems of organic
development, and even of the succes-
sion of animals on the earth, are
embraced here. "Every animal springs
from an egg," is a dictum of Harvey
that has become an axiom.

In an egg one would suppose the
yolk to be the animal. This is not so.

It is merely food — the animal is the
little whitish circle seen on the mem-
brane enveloping the yolk.

We hope to group a number of eggs,
to enable our readers to compare their
size and shape, from that of the
Epyornis, six times the size of an
Ostrich egg, down to the tiny egg that
is found in the soft nest of the Hum-
ming-bird. This gigantic egg is a foot
long and nine inches across, and would
hold as much as fifty thousand Hum-
ming-bird's eggs.

60

THE SAW-WHET OWL,

" The Lark is but a bumpkin fowl ;

He sleeps in his nest till morn ;
But my blessing upon the jolly Owl

That all night blows his horn."

CURIOUS name for a bird,
we are inclined to say when
we meet with it for the first
time, but when we hear
its shrill, rasping call
note, uttered perhaps at midnight, we
admit the appropriateness of u saw-
whet." It resembles the sound made
when a large-toothed saw is being filed.
Mr. Goss says that the natural home
of this sprightly little Owl is within
the wild woodlands, though it is occas-
ionally found about farm houses
and even cities. According to Mr.
Nelson, it is of frequent occurrence in
Chicago, where, upon some of the most
frequented streets in the residence por-
tion of the city, a dozen specimens
have been taken within two years. It
is very shy and retiring in its habits,
however, rarely leaving its secluded
retreats until late at eve, for which
reason it is doubtless much more com-
mon throughout its range than is gen-
erally supposed. It is not migratory
but is more or less of an irregular
wanderer in search of food during the
autumn and winter. It may be quite
common in a locality and then not be
seen again for several years. It is
nocturnal, seldom moving about in the
day time, but passing the time in
sleeping in some dark retreat; and so
soundly does it sleep that ofttimes it
may be captured alive.

The flight of the Saw-whet so closely
resembles that of the Woodcook that
it has been killed by sportsmen, when
flying over the alders, through being
mistaken for the game bird.

These birds nest in old deserted
squirrel or Woodpecker holes and small
hollows in trees. The eggs — usually
four — are laid on the rotten wood or
decayed material at the bottom. They
are white and nearly round.

In spite of the societies formed to
prevent the killing of birds for orna-
menting millinery, and the thousands
of signatures affixed to the numerous
petitions sent broadcast all over the
country, in which women pledged
themselves not to wear birds or feathers
of any kind on their hats, this is essen-
tially a bird killing year, and the favor-
ite of all the feathers is that of the Owl.
There is an old superstition about him
too. He has always been considered
an unlucky bird, and many persons
will not have one in the house. He
may, says a recent writer, like the Pea-
cock, lose his unlucky prestige,
now that Dame Fashion has stamped
him with her approval. L,i Hung
Chang rescued the Peacock feather from
the odium of ill luck, and hundreds of
persons bought them after his visit
who would never permit them to be
taken inside their homes prior to it.
So the Owl seems to have lost his ill
luck since fair woman has decided that
the Owl hat is "the thing."

The small size of the Saw-whet and
absence of ears, at once distinguish
this species from any Owl of eastern
North America, except Richardson's,
which has the head and back spotted
with white, and legs barred with
grayish brown.

61

THE SAW-WHET OWL.

"Whew!" exclaims Bobbie.
" Here's another Owl. I never
knew there were so many differ-
ent species, mamma."

Mamma smiled at that word
" species." It was a word Bob-
bie had learned in his study of
BIRDS.

"The Saw- Whet Owl," said she,
looking at the picture. "A good
looking little fellow, but not
handsome as the Snowy Owl in
the June number of BIRDS."

" He was a beauty," assented
Bobby, " such great yellow eyes
looking at you out of a snow
bank of feathers. This little
fellow's feet have on black shoes
with yellow soles, not white fur
overshoes like the Snowy Owl's.'1

"His eyes glow like topaz,
though, just as the other's did,"
said mamma. " Let us see what
he says about himself."

"As stupid as an Owl. That's
the way some people talk about
us. Then again I've heard them
say, 'tough as a b'iled owl.'
B'iled Owls may be tough, I
don't know anything about that,
for I have been too shy and
wary to be caught."

" I had a neighbor once who
was very fond of chickens. He
was a Night Owl and said he
found it easy to catch them when
roosting out at night. Well he
caught so many that Mr. Owl

grew very fat, and the farmer
whose chickens he ate, caught,
cooked, and ate him. His flesh,
the farmer said, was tender and
sweet. So, my little friends,
when you want to call anything
'tough,' don't mention the Owl
any more."

"A foreigner?"

"Oh, my, no! I'm proud to
say I am an American, and so
are all my folks. A branch of
the family, however, live way up
north in a region where they
sing ' God save the Queen ' in-
stead of the ' Star Spangled Ban-
ner.' They call themselves
English Owls, I guess, because
they live on British soil."

"Do I sing?"

" Well, not exactly. I can
hoot though, and my Ah-ee, ah-ee,
ah-oo, ah-oo, has a pleasant sound,
very much like filing a saw.
That is the reason they call me
the Saw-whet Owl. My mate
says it doesn't sound that way to
her, but then as she hasn't any
ears maybe she doesn't hear very
well.

" You never see me out in the
day time, no indeed! I know
when the mice come out of their
holes ; I am very fond of mice,
also insects. I like small birds,
too — to eat — but I find them very
hard to catch."

"Don't you?"

rrom col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

SAW-WHET OWL.
0 r Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

THE BLACK SWAN.

I advise you little folks to take
a good look at me. You don't
often see a Black Swan. White
Swans are very common, com-
mon as white Geese. I only
wish I could have had my pic-
ture taken while gliding through
the water. I am so stately and
handsome there. My feet
wouldn't have shown either.

Really I don't think my feet
are pretty. They always remind
me when I look down at them of
a windmill or the sails of a ves-
sel. But if they hadn't been
made that way, webbed-like,
I wouldn't be able to swim as I
do. They really are a pair of
fine paddles, you know.

There was a time when people
in certain countries thought a
Black Swan was an impossi-
bility. As long as there were
black sheep in the world, I don't
see why there shouldn't have
been Black Swans, do you?

Well, one day, a Dutch cap-
tain exploring a river in Aus-
tralia, saw and captured four of
the black fellows. That was
way back in sixteen hundred
and something, so that one of
those very Black Swans must

have been my great, great, great,
great grand father. Indeed he
may have been even greater than
that, but as I have never been
to school, you know, I can't very
well count backward. I can
move forward, however, when in
the water. I make good time
there, too.

Well, to go back to the Dutch
captain. Two of the Swans he
took alive to Dutchland and
everybody was greatly sur-
prised. They said "Ach!" and
"Himmel," and many other things
which I do not remember. Since
that time they say the Black
Swans have greatly diminished
in numbers in Australia. You
will find us all over the world
now, because we are so orna-
mental ; people like to have a
few of us in their ponds and
lakes.

They say that river in Aus-
tralia which the captain explored
was named Swan river, and Aus-
tralia took one of us for its
armorial symbol. Well, a Black
Swan may look well on a shield,
but no matter how hard you may
pull his tail-feathers, he'll never
scream like the American Eagle.

THE BLACK SWAN.

USTRAUA is the home of
the Black Swan, and it is
invested by an even greater
interest than attaches to
the South American
bird, which is white. For many cen-
turies it was considered to be an impos-
sibility, but by a singular stroke of
fortune, says a celebrated naturalist,
we are able to name the precise day on
which this unexpected discovery was
made. The Dutch navigator William
de Vlaming, visiting the west coast of
Southland, sent two of his boats on
the 6th of January, 1697, to explore an
estuary he had found. There their
crews saw at first two and then more
Black swans, of which they caught
four, taking two of them alive to Bat-
avia; and Valentyn, who several years
later recounted this voyage, gives in
his work a plate representing the ship,
boats, and birds, at the mouth of what
is now known from this circumstance
as the Swan river, the most important
stream of the thriving colony of West
Australia, which has adopted this
Swan as its armorial symbol. Subse-
quent voyagers, Cook and others, found
that the range of the species extended
over the greater part of Australia, in
many districts of which it was abund-
ant. It has since rapidly decreased in
number there, and will most likely
soon cease to exist as a wild bird, but
its singular and ornamental appearance
will probably preserve it as a modified
captive in most civilized countries,
and it is said, perhaps even now there
are more Black Swans in a reclaimed
condition in other lands than are at
large in their mother country.

The erect and graceful carriage of
the Swan always excites the admira-
tion of the beholder, but the gentle
bird has other qualities not commonly
known, one of which is great power ol
wing. The Zoologist gives a curious
incident relating to this subject. An
American physician writing to that
journal, says that the first case of frac-
ture with which he had to deal was
one of the forearm caused by the blows
of a Swan's wing. It was during the
winter of 1870, at the Lake of Swans,
in Mississippi, that the patient was
hunting at* night, in a small boat and
by the light of torches. In the course
of their maneuvers a flock of Swans
was suddenly encountered which
took to flight without regard to
anything that might be in the way.
As the man raised his arm instinctively
to ward off the swiftly rising birds, he
was struck on his forearm by the wing
of one of the Swans in the act of
getting under motion, and as the action
and labor of lifting itself were very
great, the arm was badly broken, both
bones being fractured.

When left to itself the nest of the
Swan is a large mass of aquatic plants,
often piled to the height of a couple
of feet and about six feet in diameter.
In the midst of this is a hollow which
contains the eggs, generally from five
to ten in number. They sit upon the
eggs between five and six weeks.

It is a curious coincidence that this
biographical sketch should have been
written and a faithful portrait for the
first time shown on the two hundredth
anniversary of the discovery of the
Black Swan.

66

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

BLACK SWAN.
% Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

LIFE IN THE NEST.

Blithely twitting, gayly flitting

Thro' the budding glen;
Golden-crested, sunny-breasted,

Goes the tiny Wren.
Peeping, musing, picking, choosing,

Nook is found at last ;
Moss and feather, twined together —

Home is shaped at last.

Brisk as ever, quick and clever,

Brimming with delight-
Six wee beauties, bring new duties,

Work from morn to night.
Peeping, musing, picking, choosing,

Nook is found at last ;
Moss and feather, twined together —

Home is shaped at last.

— J. L. H.

THE SNOWY PLOVER.

BOUT one hundred species
are comprised in the Plover
family, which are distributed
throughout the world.
Only eight species are
found in North America. Their habits
in a general way resemble those of the
true Snipes, but their much shorter,
stouter bills are not fitted for probing,
and they obtain their food from the
surface of the ground. Probably for
this reason several species are so
frequently found on the uplands instead
of wading about in shallow ponds or
the margins of streams. They frequent
meadows and sandy tracts, where they
run swiftly along the ground in a
peculiarly graceful manner. The
Plovers are small or medium-sized
shore-birds. The Snowy Plover is
found chiefly west of the Rocky
Mountains, and is a constant resident
along the California coast. It nests
along the sandy beaches of the ocean.
Mr. N. S. Goss found it nesting on the
salt plains along the Cimarrion River
in the Indian Territory, the northern
limits of which extend into south-
western Kansas. The birds are de-
scribed as being very much lighter in
color than those of California. Four
eggs are usually laid, in ground color,
pale buff or clay color, with blackish-
brown markings. Mr. Cory says the
nest is a mere depression in the sand.
He says also that the Snowy Plover is

found in winter in many of the Gulf
States, and is not uncommon in North-
western Florida.

When the female Snowy Plover is
disturbed on the nest she will fun over
the sand with outstretched wings and
distressing gait, and endeavor to lead
the trespasser away from it. It some-
times utters a peculiar cry, but is
usually silent. The food of these birds
consists of various minute forms of life.
They are similar in actions to the
Sernipalmated (see July BIRDS), and
fully as silent. Indeed they are rarely
heard to utter a note except as the
young are approached — when they are
very demonstrative — or when suddenly
flushed, which, in the nesting season,
is a very rare thing, as they prefer to
escape by running, dodging, and squat-
ting the moment they think they are
out of danger, in hopes you will pass
without seeing them as the sandy lands
they inhabit closely resemble their
plumage in color, and says Mr. Goss,
you will certainly do so should you
look away or fail to go directly to the
spot.

The first discovery of these inter-
esting birds east of Great Salt Lake
was in June, 1886. A nest was found
which contained three eggs, a full set.
It was a mere depression worked out in
the sand to fit the body. It was with-
out lining, and had nothing near to
shelter or hide it from view.

70

ONLY A BIRD.

Only a bird ! and a vagrant boy

Fits a pebble with boyish skill
Into the folds of a supple sling.

" Watch me hit him. I can, an' I will."
Whirr ! and a silence chill and sad

Falls like a pall on the vibrant air,
From a birchen tree, whence a shower of song

Has fallen in ripples everywhere.

Only a bird ! and the tiny throat

With quaver and trill and whistle of flute
Bruised and bleeding and silent lies

There at his feet. Its chords are mute.
And the boy with a loud and boisterous laugh,

Proud of his prowess and brutal skill,
Throws it aside with a careless toss.

" Only a bird ! it was made to kill."

Only a bird ! yet far away

Little ones clamor and cry for food —
Clamor and cry, and the chill of night

Settles over the orphan brood.
Weaker and fainter the moaning call

For a brooding breast that shall never come.
Morning breaks o'er a lonely nest,

Songless and lifeless ; mute and dumb.

— MARY MORRISON.

73

THE LESSER PRAIRIE HEN.

-»—-— ^

LjXTENDING over the Great

p™| Plains from western and prob-

j ' ably southern Texas

""^^^^^ northward through

Indian Territory to Kansas is said to

be the habitation of the Lesser Prairie

Hen, though it is not fully known. It

inhabits the fertile prairies, seldom

frequenting the timbered lands, except

during sleety storms, or when the

ground is covered with snow. Its

flesh is dark and it is not very highly

esteemed as a table bird.

The habits of these birds are similar
to those of the Prairie Hen. During
the early breeding season they feed
upon grasshoppers, crickets, and other
forms of insect life, but afterwards upon
cultivated grains, gleaned from the
stubble in autumn and the corn fields
in winter. They are also fond of
tender buds, berries, and fruits. When
flushed, these birds rise from the
ground with a less whirring sound
than the Ruffed Grouse or Bob White,
and their flight is not as swift, but
more protracted, and with less appar-
ent effort, flapping and sailing along,
often to the distance of a mile or more.
In the fall the birds come together,
and remain in flocks until the
warmth of spring awakes the pas-
sions of love ; then, in the language
of Col. Goss, as with a view to
fairness and the survival of the fittest,
they select a smooth, open courtship

ground, usually called a scratching
ground, where the males assemble at
the early dawn, to vie with each other
in carnage and pompous display, utter-
ing at the same time their love call, a
loud, booming noise. As soon a* this
is heard by the hen birds desirous of
mating, they quietly appear, squat upon
the ground, apparently indifferent
observers, until claimed by victorious
rivals, whom they gladly accept, and
whose caresses they receive. Audubon
states that the vanquished and victors
alike leave the grounds to search for
the females, but he omits to state that
many are present, and mate upon the
" scratching grounds."

The nest of the Prairie Hen is
placed on the ground in the thick
prairie grass and at the foot of bushes
when the earth is barren ; a hollow
is scratched in the soil, and sparingly
lined with grasses and a few feathers.
There are from eight to twelve eggs,
tawny brown, sometimes with an olive,
hue and occasionally sprinkled with
brown.

During the years 1869 and 1870,
while the writer was living in south-
western Kansas, which was then the
far west, Prairie Chickens as they were
called there, were so numerous that
they were rarely used for food by the
inhabitants, and as there was then no
readily accessible market the birds were
slaughtered for wanton sport.

74

THE NEW TENANTS.

BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.

The next day Mrs. Jenny retired into
the tin pot, and later, when Mr. Wren
peeped in, lo! an egg, all spotted with
red and brown, lay upon the soft lining
of the nest.

" It's quite the prettiest thing in the
world," proudly said Mr. Wren.
" Why, my dear, I don't believe your
cousin, Mrs. John Wren, ever laid one
like it. It seems to me those spots
upon the shell are very remarkable.
I shouldn't be surprised if the bird
hatched from that shell will make a
name for himself in bird-land some
day, I really shouldn't."

" You foolish fellow," laughed Mrs.
Wren, playfully pecking him with her
bill, " If you were a Goose your Gos-
lings, in your eyes, would all be Swans.
That's what I heard our landlady say
to her husband last night, out on
the porch, when he wondered which
one of his boys would be president of
the United States."

Mr. Wren chuckled in a truly papa-
like manner and pecked her bill in
return, then fairly bubbling over with
happiness flew to a neighboring limb,
and burst into such a merry roundelay,
one note tumbling over another in
Wren fashion, that every member of
the household came out to hear and
see.

" There he is," cried Pierre, as Mrs.
Wren left her nest and flew over beside

him, " with tail down and head up,
singing as though he were mad with
joy."

" Sucn a rapturous song," said
mamma. "It reminds me of two almost
forgotten lines :

' Brown Wren, from out whose swelling throat
Unstinted joys of music float.' "

" How well we are repaid for the
litter they made, are we not? "

" And sure, mum," said Bridget,
whose big heart had also been touched
by the sweet song, " its glad I am, for
sure, that I wasn't afther dispossessin'
your tinents. Its innocent craythurs
they be, God bless 'em, a harmin' ov
no wan. Sthill — ''

"Well," queried her mistress, as
Bridget paused.

" Sthill, mum, I do be afther won-
derin' if the tin-pot had been a hangin'
under the front porch instead of the
back, would ye's been after takin' the
litter so philosophyky like as ye have,
mum, to be sure."

The mistress looked at Bridget and
laughingly shook her head.

" That's a pretty hard nut to crack,
Bridget," said she. " Under those

conditions I am afraid I " What

ever admission she was going to make
was cut short by a burst of laughter
from the children.

" lyook at him, mamma, just look at
him," they cried, pointing to Mr. Wren,

77

who, too happy to keep still had flown
to the gable at the extremity of the
ridge-pole of the house, and after a
gush of song, to express his happiness
was jerking himself along the ridge
pole in a truly funny fashion. From
thence he flew into the lower branches
of a neighboring tree, singing and
chattering, and whisking himself in
and out of the foliage : then back to
the roof again, and from roof to tree.

" I know what makes him so happy/'
announced Henry, who, standing upon
a chair, had peeped into the nest.
" There's a dear little egg in here.
Hurrah for Mrs. Wren ! "

" Do not touch it," commanded
mamma, "but each one of us will take
a peep in turn."

Mrs. Wren's bead like eyes had taken
in the whole proceeding, and with
fluttering wings she stood on a shrub
level with the porch and gave voice
to her motherly anxiety and anger.

"Dee, dee, dee^ she shrilly cried,
fluttering her little wings, which in
bird language means, "oh dear, oh
dear, what shall I do ? " .

Her cries of distress were heard by
Mr. Wren, and with all haste he flew
down beside her.

" What is it? " cried he, very nearly
out of breath from his late exertions.
" Has that rascally Mr. Jay "

"No, no!" she interrupted, wringing
her sharp little toes, " Its not Mr. Jay
this time, Mr. Wren. It's the family
over there, cur family, robbing our
nest of its one little egg."

"Pooh! nonsense!" coolly said Mr.
Wren, taking one long breath of relief.
" Why, my dear, you nearly frighten
me to death. You know, or ought to

know by this time, that our landlord's
family have been taught not to do such
things. Besides you yourself admit
them to be exceptionally good children
and good children never rob nests.
Fie, I'm ashamed of you. Really my
heart flew to my bill when I heard
your call of distress."

Mrs. Wren, whose fears were quite
allayed by this time, looked at her
mate scornfully.

" Oh ! " said she, with fine sarcasm,
" your heart flew into your bill did it ?
Well, let me say, Mr. Wren, that if it
had been my mother in distress, father
at the first note of warning, would
have flown to her assistance with his
heart in his claws. He kept them well
sharpened for just such occasions, and
woe to any enemy he found prowling
about his premises."

"Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Wren, "I
presume he would have attacked Bridget
over there, and the whole family. To
hear you talk, Mrs. Wren, one would
think your father was a whole host in
himself."

" And so he was," said she, loftily,
" I have seen him attack a Bluebird
and a Martin at the same time and put
them both to flight. An Owl had no
terrors for him, and as for squirrels,

why " Mrs. Wren raised her

wings and shrugged her shoulders in a
very Frenchy and wholly contempt-
uous manner.

" I'm a peace-loving sort of a fellow,
that you know, Mrs. Wren, deploring
the reputation our tribe has so justly
earned for fighting, and scolding, and
jeering at everything and every-
body. Indeed they go so far as to say
we trust no one, not even our kindred.

But mark me, Mrs. Wren, mark me, I
say! Should any rascally Jay, neigh-
bor or not, ever dare approach that
tin pot over yonder, or ever alight
on the roof of the porch, I'll, I'll—"
Mr. Wren fairly snorted in his anger,
and standing on one foot, doubled up
the toes of the other and struck it
defiantly at the imaginary foe.

" Oh, I dare say! " tauntingly said
Mrs. Wren, " you are the sort of fellows
that I heard little Dorothy reading
about the other day. You would fight
and run away, Mr. Wren, that you
might live to fight another day."

Mr. Wren lifted one foot and
scratched himself meditatively behind
the ear.

" Good, very good, indeed, my dear !
It must have been a pretty wise chap
that wrote that." And Mr. Wren,
who seemed to find the idea very
amusing, laughed until the tears stood
in his eyes.

Mrs. Wren smoothed her ruffled
feathers and smiled too.

" Tut, tut, Jenny," said the good-
natured fellow, " what is the use of us
newly married folk quarreling in this
fashion. Think how joyous we were
less than one short hour ago. Come,
my dear, the family have all left the
porch, save Emmett. I^et us fly over
there and take a look at our treasure."
And Mrs. Wren, entirely restored to
good humor, flirted her tail over her
back, hopped about a little in a coquet-
tish manner, then spread her wings,
and off they flew together.

Mrs. Wren the next day deposited
another egg, and the next, and the
next, till six little speckled beauties
lay huddled together in the cosy nest.

" Exactly the number of our land-
lord's family," said she, fluffing her
feathers and gathering the eggs under
her in that truly delightful fashion
common to all mother birds. " I am
so glad. I was greatly puzzled to
know what names we should have
given the babies had there been more
than six."

" I hadn't thought of that," admitted
Mr. Wren, who in his joy had been
treating his mate to one of his fine
wooing songs, and at length coaxed
her from the nest, ' ' but I dare say we
would have named them after some of
our relatives.

"Why, of course," assented Mrs.
Wren, " I certainly would have named
one after my dear, brave papa. Mrs.
John Wren says that boys named after
a great personage generally develop
all the qualities of that person."

" Oh, indeed ! " sniffed Mr. Wren,
" that was the reason she named one of
her numerous brood last year after our
rascally neighbor, Mr. Jay, I presume.
Certainly the youngster turned out as
great a rascal as the one he was named
after."

Mrs. Wren's head feathers stood on
end at once.

" For the life of me," she said tartly,
" I cannot see why you always fly into
a passion, Mr. Wren, whenever I men-
tion dear papa, or Mrs. John, or in fact
any of my relatives. Indeed — but
sh — sh! There's one of our neighbors
coming this way. I verily believe it

is, oh yes, it is, it is " and Mrs.

Wren wrung her toes, and cried cheety
cheet, cheet, and dee, dee, dee! in a truly
anxious and alarming manner.

[TO BE CONTIUED.]

79

SUMMARY.

Page 46.

LEAST BITTERN.— Botaurus exilis.

RANGE — Temperate North America, from the
British Provinces to the West Indies and South
America.

NEST — In the thick rushes, along the edge of
the water, bending down the tops of water grass
and platting it into a snug little nest, about two
or three feet above the water.

EGGS — Three or five, pale bluish or greenish-
white.

Page 50.

BALDPATE. — Anas americana.

RANGE — North America from the Arctic
ocean south to Guatemala and Cuba.

NEST — On the ground in marshes, of grass
and weeds, neatly arranged and nicely hollowed,
usually lined with the down and feathers from
its own breast.

EGGS— Eight to twelve, of pale buff.

Page 54.

PURPLE FINCH.— Carpodacus purpureus.
Other names : " Purple Grosbeak," " Crimson
Pinch," "Linnet."

RANGE — Eastern North America, breeding
from Northern United States northward.

NEST — In evergreens or orchard trees, at a
moderate distance from the ground. Composed
of weed-stalks, bark -strips, rootlets, grasses, all
kinds of vegetable fibres, and lined with hairs.

EGGS — Four or five, of a dull green, spotted
with very dark brown, chiefly about the larger
end.

Page 58.

RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER.— Melaner-
pes carolinus. Other name : " Zebra Bird."

RANGE — Eastern United States, west to the
Rocky Mountains, south to Florida and Central
Texas.

NEST — In holes in decayed trees, twenty or
thirty feet from the ground.
EGGS — Four or six, glossy white.

Page 63.

SAW-WHET OWL.— Nyctale acadica. Other
name : "Acadian Owl."

RANGE — Whole of North America ; breeding
from middle United States northward.

NEST — In holes, trees, or hollow trunks.

EGGS — Four to seven, white.

Page 67.

BLACK SWAN.— Cygnus.

RANGE — Australia.

NEST — On a tussock entirely surrounded by
water.

EGGS— Two to five.

Page 71.

SNOWY PLOVER.— A egialitis nivosa.

RANGE — Western North America, south to
Mexico in winter, both coasts of Central
America, and in western South America to
Chili.

NEST — On the ground.

EGGS — Three, ground color, pale buff or
clay color, marked with blackish-brown spots,
small splashes and fine dots.

Page 75-

LESSER PRAIRIE HEN.— Tympanuchus
pallidicinctus.

RANGE — Eastern edge of the Great Plains,
from western and probably southern Texas
northward through Indian Territory to Kansas.

NEST — On the ground in thick prairie grass,
and at the foot of bushes on the barren ground ;
a hollow scratched out in the soil, and spar-
ingly lined with grasses and a few feathers.

EGGS — Eight to twelve, tawny brown.

BIRDS.

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR FttOTOGRftFHY.

VOL. III.

MARCH, 1898.

No. 3.

SOME BIRD LOVERS.

(^ I HE happiness that is added to

^ I human lives by love for the

OJ I lower creatures is beyond tell-

—^ ing. Ernest von Vogelweide,

the great German lyric poet of

the middle ages, so loved the birds

that he left a large bequest to the

monks of Wurtzburg on condition that

they should feed the birds every day

on the tomb-stone over his grave.

Of St. Francis of Assisi's love and
tenderness for birds and animals many
beautiful stories have been told. The
former he particularly loved, and 'tis
related they were wont to fly to him,
while he talked to, and blessed them.
From the hands of a cruel boy he
once rescued a pigeon, emblem of
innocence and purity, made a nest for
it, and watched over it and its young.

Of George Stephenson, the inventor,
a beautiful story is told. One day in

an upper room of his home he closed
the window. Two or three days after-
wards, however, he observed a bird
flying against, and violently beating
its wings as though trying to break
the window. His sympathy and curi-
osity were aroused. What could the
little creature want? The window
was opened and the bird, flew to one
particular spot. Alas ! one look into
the little nest and the bird with the
worm still in its beak which he had
brought to the mother and his four
little ones, fluttered to the floor.
Stephenson lifted the exhausted bird,
and tried to revive it. But all his
efforts proved in vain. At that time
the force of George Stephenson's mind
was changing the face of the earth ;
yet he wept at the sight of the dead
family and grieved because he had all
unconsciously been the cause of their
death.

81

BIRD DAY.

HE United States Department
of Agriculture issued in July,
1896, a circular suggesting
that a "Bird Day" be added
school calendar. In this circu-
Sterling Morton, Secretary of
Agriculture, says :

" The cause of bird protection is one
that appeals to the best side of our
natures. L,et us yield to the appeal.
Let us have a Bird Day — a day set
apart from all the other days of the
year to tell the children about the
birds. But we must not stop here.
We should strive continually to develop
and intensify the sentiment of bird
protection, not alone for the sake of
preserving the birds, but also for the
sake of replacing as far as possible the
barbaric impulses inherent in child
nature by the nobler impulses and
aspirations that should characterize ad-
vanced civilization."

Prof. C. A. Babcock, superintendent
of schools, Oil City, Pa., who has acted
upon the suggestion in his schools,
says:

" The preservation of the birds is
not merely a matter of sentiment, or of
education in that high and fine feeling,
kindness to all living things. - It has
an utilitarian side of vast extent, as
broad as our boundless fields and our
orchards' sweep. The birds are nec-
essary to us. Only by their means can
the insects which injure, and if not
checked, destroy vegetation, be kept
within bounds. . . .

"What is most needed is the knowl-
edge of the birds themselves, their
modes of life, their curious ways, and
their relation to the scheme of things.
To know a bird is to love him. Birds
are beautiful and interesting objects of
study and make appeals to children
that are responded to with delight."

MARCH.

The stormy March has come at last,

With wind and cloud and changing skies,

I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valley flies.

Ah, passing few are they who speak,
Wild stormy month ! in praise of thee;

Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak,
Thou art a welcome month to me.

For thou, to northern lands, again
The glad and glorious sun dost bring,

And thou hast joined the gentle train
And wear'st the gentle name of Spring.

And, in thy reign of blast and storm,
Smiles many a long, bright, sunny day,

When the changed winds are soft and warm,
And heaven puts on the blue of May.

Then sing aloud the gushing rills,

And the full springs, from frost set free,
That, brightly leaping down the hills,

Are j ust set out to meet the sea.

— BRYANT.

82

THE BIRD'S ANSWER.

"A little bird sat on the twig of a tree,

A-s winging and singing as glad as could be,

And shaking his tail and smoothing his dress,

And having such fun as you never could guess ;

And when he had finished his gay little song,

He flew down the street and went hopping along,

This way and that way with both little feet,

While his sharp little eyes looked for something to eat

A little boy said to him, 'Little bird, stop

And tell me the reason you go with a hop ;

Why don't you walk as boys do, and men,

One foot at a time, like a duck or a hen ? '

Then the little bird went with a hop, hop, hop,

And laughed as if he never could stop :

And he said, ' Little boy, there are some birds that talk,

And. some birds that hop, and some birds that walk,

But most little birds that can sing you a song,

Are so small that their legs are not very strong

To scratch with, or wade with, or catch things, that's why

They hop with both feet, little boy, good-bye.' "

83

WHERE MISSOURI BIRDS SPEND CHRISTMAS.

F course we know where the
English Sparrow spends his
Christmas. And the Snow-
bird came down in October
and is with us yet. Likewise
the Bluejay is here in many of our
yards, and is quite respectable — like
Eugene Field's boy, now that there
are no eggs to eat nor young birds to
destroy. The Redhead Woodpecker
is probably in the deeper woods,
though I have not yet seen him this
winter. Sometimes he goes south and
digs grubs off the tall, dead, southern
trees.

But we may be interested in where
some of our departed friends are
Christmasing.

All our other Woodpeckers stay
with us — except the Yellowhammer.
He has taken to feeding upon the
ground a good deal of late and does
not like it frozen.

The Redbreasted Woodpecker and
our two little Sapsuckers as we call
them, are always here in the winter —
the most optimistic birds we have.

I heard the Nuthatch only a few
days ago. I did not see him but I
knew by the way he talked through
his nose that he was hanging head
down on some nearby tree. The
only other little bird that climbs up
tree trunks — except the Woodpeckers
— is the Browncreeper, a rather rare
bird with us. Some years ago one of
the public school teachers sent me one
that a little boy had found so chilled
that it was helpless ; so I suspect that
he ought to spend Christmas further
south — for his health.

In the woods, the Tree-Sparrow,
associating with the Snowbird, occa-
sionally sings us a Christmas Carol —
the only bird here now from which we
may expect a song, unless some vernal
day should loose the syrinx of the
Cardinal, or provoke the "fee-bee" of
the Crested Titmouse.

Christmas is on the vernal side of
the winter solstice and any sunny day
thereabout is more like spring than
autumn.

Sometimes in warm swampy places,
the Fox-Sparrow spends the winter
about us, but I have never seen any
here, though they are on the river
about Louisiana, Mo., now, I suspect,
along with the Winter-Wren. They
both sing occasionally in winter.

On our high backbone position here
at Mexico, between the rivers, we are
not favorably situated for bird study
because the little feathered folks prefer
the deep tangles of the river bottoms,
and they appreciate the fact that it is
naturally warmer there also. Even
Robins and Bluebirds sometimes stop
in these over winter here in Missouri.

The Doves and Blackbirds are mostly
in the southern states, but not far ; for,
eating grain only now, they are after
climate rather than food. But such
birds as our swallows and the Fly-
catchers— say the Peewees, Bee-Martins,
and their kind — are much farther on
where the insects fly all the year round.
Some of them are in Florida and some
are in South America and a few per-
haps are banqueting in Old Mexico,
studying the silver question. — J. N.
BASKETT, in Mexico (Mo^) Intelligencer.

THE BLACK DUCK.

USKY DUCK, Black Mal-
lard, Black English Duck,
(Florida), are some of the
names by which this well-
known member of the
family is recognized throughout east-
ern North America, west to Utah, and
north to Labrador. It is much less
common in the interior than along
the Atlantic coast. It is called the
characteristic and one of the com-
monest Ducks of New England, where
it breeds at large, and from thence
northeastward, but is most numerous
during the migrations.

The nest of the Black Duck is
placed on the ground, in grass or
rushes in the neighborhood of ponds,
pools, and streams, in meadows and
sometimes in swamps. It is a large
and neatly arranged structure of weeds
and grass, hollowed and lined with
down and feathers from the breast of
the bird. In rare instances it has
been known to build its nest in the
hollow of a tree, or a "stub" projecting
from the water of a swamp. Mr.
Frazer found the nest of this Duck in
Labrador usually placed upon the out-
reaching branches of stunted spruces,
which are seldom higher than four
feet.

The eggs of this species are from
six to twelve in number, usually seven
or eight, and vary in color from pale
buff to pale greenish buff. The nest-
ing period is from the last of April to
the early part of June.

The Black Duck is a very wary
creature, exceedingly difficult of ap-
proach. They are found in great num-

bers, except when congregated on salt
water, five to ten being an average
flock started from pond and feeding
ground.

During very severe winters, says
Hallock, when every sheet of water is
bound in with a thick covering of ice,
the1 Black Ducks are driven to warm
spring holes where the water never
freezes. The approach of evening
drives the Ducks from the bay or
sound, where they have been sitting
during the day, and they seek these
open inland spots for food and shelter.
Brush-houses are constructed of sedge,
cedar boughs, etc., at the mouths of
fresh water rivers and creeks, in places
where the marsh land is low and inter-
sected by branches of the main stream.
Here the Ducks come to feed at night
and are taken by hunters who are con-
cealed in the bushes. These houses
are left standing, however, and the
wary Ducks soon avoid entirely this
locality, and feed elsewhere. The
brush -house building on feeding
grounds cannot be too severely con-
demned.

Hallock observes that of all the
birds which during spring and fall
traverse our country probably none
equal these Ducks in point of size, num-
bers and economic value. The group
is confined neither to the sea coast,
nor to the interior, but is spread out
over the whole breadth of the conti-
nent, in summer extending its migra-
tions to the furthest north, and in
winter proceeding only so far south as
it is forced to by the freezing of the
waters of its northern home.

87

THE STORMY PETREL.

"The Stormy Petrel, mamma,
is a very interesting bird. I
should like very much to be in
a ship and see him walking on
the water, wouldn't you ?"

Mamma, who thought of the
apostle St. Peter, shook her
head.

"You must be mistaken, Bob-
bie," said she. "I never heard
of a bird that could walk on the
water."

"Well, that's what my maga-
zine says," replied Bobbie, "and
I am sure BIRDS ought to know.
Listen!" and Bobbie, stopping
to spell a word now and then,
and to ask the meaning of many,
managed to inform his mother
wha.t the Stormy Petrel had to say
about himself.

"Though I am the smallest of
the web-footed birds I am a
great traveler," read Bobbie.
"Everywhere over the entire
surface of the watery globe you
will find members of my order;
far north in the Arctic seas and
away down in the Southern
oceans. We love the sea, and
the food which is thrown up by
the waves. Anything oily or
greasy we particularly like. No
matter how stormy the weather^
nor how high the billows roll,
you will see us little fel-
lows, with outstretched wings,

sweeping along in the hollow
trough of the sea. From one side
of a ship to the other, now far
ahead, then a great way behind,
catching up easily with the
ship though making ten knots
an hour."

"What is a knot, mamma?"
querried Bobbie.

"A knot means a sailors' mile.
An engineer says his locomotive
runs at the rate of so many miles
an hour; a seaman says so many
'knots.' A knot is something
more than our English mile."

"The sailors call us 'Mother
Carey's Chickens.' Because we
walk and run on the surface of
the water they think us uncanny,
foretelling bad weather, or some-
thing else bad for the crew,
when — let me whisper it into
your ear — it is our outstretched
wings which uphold us, our
wings as well as our broad,
flat feet.

There is something else I
want to tell you though before I
close. Think of making a lamp
out of a bird's body ! That is
what they do with a Stormy Petrel's
body on a certain island in the
Atlantic ocean. They find our
carcass so oily from the food we
eat, that all they have to do is to
draw a wick through our body,
light it, and lo they have a lamp.

88

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

WILSONS PETREL.
-.-; Life- size.

UopvrijcM by

Nature Study i'ub. Co., IS!)*, Chiciij

WILSON'S PETREL.

,ETRELS are dispersed
throughout all the seas
and oceans of the world.
Wilson's Stormy Petrel is
one of the best known
and commonest. It is to be met with
nearly everywhere over the entire
watery surface of the globe — far north
in the icy regions of the Arctic seas
and south to the sunny isles of south-
ern oceans. It breeds in the months
of March, April, May, June, July and
August, according to the locality, in
the northern latitudes of Europe, east-
ern and western North America. Dr.
J. H. Kidder found it on Kergulen
Island, southeast of Africa. He had
previously seen the birds at the sea
coast off the Cape of Good Hope, and,
on December 14, saw them out by day
feeding on the oily matter floating away
from the carcass of a sea-elephant. The
birds, he says, frequent the rocky parts
of hillsides, and flitting about like
swallows, catch very minute insects.
" Mother Carey's Chicken," as it is
called by sailors, is widely believed to
be the harbinger of bad weather, and
many superstitions have grown out of
the habit which they possess of appar-
ently walking on the surface of the
water as the Apostle St. Peter is
recorded to have done. It is the
smallest of the web-footed birds, yet
few storms are violent enough to keep
it from wandering over the waves in
search of the food that the disturbed
water casts to the surface.

The Stormy Petrel is so exceedingly
oily in texture, that the inhabitants of
the Ferol islands draw a wick through
its body and use it as a lamp.

Wilson gives the following account
of its habits while following a ship
under sail:

" It is indeed an interesting sight to
observe these little birds in a gale,
coursing over the waves, down the
declivities, up the ascents of the foam-
ing surf that threatens to bend over
their head ; sweeping along through
the hollow troughs of the sea, as in a
sheltered valley, and again mounting
with the rising billow, and just above
its surface, occasionally dropping their
feet, wnich, striking the water, throws
the birds up again with additional
force; sometimes leaping, with both
legs parallel, on the surface of the
roughest wave for several yards at a
time. Meanwhile they continue cours-
ing from side to side of the ship's
wake, making excursions far and
wide, to the right and to the left,
now a great way ahead, and now
shooting astern for several hundred
yards, returning again to the ship, as
if she were all the time stationary',
though perhaps running at the rate
of ten knots an hour ! But the most
singular peculiarity of this bird is its
faculty of standing and even running
on the surface of the water, which
it performs with apparent facility.
When any greasy matter is thrown
overboard these birds instantly collect
around it, and face to windward, with
their long wings expanded and their
webbed feet patting the water, which
the lightness of their bodies and the
action of the wind on their wings
enable them to do with ease. In calm
weather they perform the same ma-
neuver by keeping their wings just
so much in action as to prevent their
feet from sinking below the surface."

Rev. Mr. Eaton says that this species
nests under large rocks not far from
the beach. Egg, one, white.

THE STORMY PETREL.

A thousand miles from land are we,
Tossing about on the stormy sea —

From billow to bounding billow cast,

Like fleecy snow on the stormy blast.
The sails are scattered abroad like weeds,
The strong masts shake like quivering reeds ;

The mighty cables and iron chains,

The hull — which all earthly strength disdains —
They strain and they crack, and hearts like stone
Their natural, hard, proud strength disown.

Up and down! — up and down!

Prom the base of the wave to the billow's crown,

And amidst the flashing and feathery foam

The Stormy Petrel finds a home —
A home, if such a place may be
For her who lives on the wide, wide sea.

On the craggy ice, in the frozen air,

And only seeketh her rocky lair
To warn her young and teach them to spring
At once o'er the waves on their stormy wing !

O'er the deep! — o'er the deep !

Where the whale and the shark and the sword fish sleep —

Out-flying the blast and the driving rain,

The Petrel telleth her tale— in vain ;
For the mariner curseth the warning bird
Which bringeth him news of the storm unheard !

Ah ! thus does the prophet of good or ill

Meet hate from the creatures he serveth still ;
Yet he ne'er falters — so, Petrel, spring
Once more o'er the waves on thy stormy wing!

— BRYAN WALLER PROCTER.

92

From col. A. W. Carter

BLUE-GRAY GNATCATCHER.
% Life-size.

Copyright l>y
Nature Study Pul>. Co.. is<w. Chicago

THE BLUE-GRAY GNATCATCHER.

LMOST everywhere in the
United States this active
little bird may be found,
inhabiting chiefly open,
high woods. Often he
may be seen along streams, skipping
and darting about among the topmost
branches of the trees, his long tail
elevated and jerking in wren-like
fashion, always moving about and
ever uttering his wheezy, squeaky
notes. Ridgway says that during the
breeding season the male has a varied
song of considerable power, but lack-
ing in sweetness, and uttered in an
erratic manner, portions of it suggesting
a weak imitation of the Catbird's
medley.

It is as a nest builder that the
Gnatcatcher is best known. Davie,
whose life study has been nests and
eggs, says that as a work of beauty
and ingenious architectural design the
nest of this bird has few equals in this
country. On the whole, it is a rather
frail structure, usually built in the
small upright twigs or saddled on the
horizontal limbs of trees at heights
ranging from ten to fifty feet, but
generally at an elevation of about
fifteen or twenty feet. The typical
nest has high, compact walls, con-
tracted at the brim, and gracefully
turned ; the interior is deeply cupped,
and the exterior is beautifully orna-
mented with lichens. The opening
is always at the top. Often the nest

is attached to a limb of the same
diameter as itself, thus appearing as a
knot or other excrescence. If, as
Baskett says, " there can be no doubt
that a bird may take delight in the
skill of its work and the beauty of its
home, as well as in its plumage," the
dainty residence of the Blue-gray
Gnatcatcher would indicate that the
pretty little bird experiences a great
amount of pleasure indeed. She lines
her nest with soft, downy materials —
cotton-like substances of withered
blossoms and the silky down of the
milkweed — fine, wiry grasses, horse-
hair, and an occasional feather from
her own breast. In this she lays four
or five eggs of greenish or bluish
white, speckled with chestnut.

Col. Goss describes this bird as as
much at home in the shrubby bushes
on the hillsides or mesquite growths
on the plains, as within the tree-tops
of the heavily timbered bottom lands ;
a nervous, restless species that, in their
quest of insect life, nimbly skip from
branch to branch, with partially
spread wings and flirting tails, held
more or less erect, now and then
darting like a flash into the air to
catch the passing flies; a tireless
picture of bustling energy, that only
ceases with the day. The soft,
warbling love song is varied, tender,
and full of melody, but so low, the
hearer must stop to listen in order to
fully catch its silvery tones.

95

THE AMERICAN COOT.

I have a number of names :
Mud Hen, Crow Duck, and Blue
Peter. It's all the same to me.
What's in a name anyway ?
Wouldn't a rose smell just as
sweet if it were named Blue
Peter, too ?

Well I am an aquatic bird,
and can quack with the best of
them and swim with them, too.
I go along beautifully on the
water. My feet are very remark-
able, the toes being fringed by
a membrane which assists me
greatly in swimming as well as
walking over the ooze. I call
them my mud-boards.

Such a lovely little thing as I
was when I came out of my
shell ! that is what people, who
saw me at that time, say. My
down was jet-black and my
head a bright orange-scarlet
mixed with purple and blue.
I wish I looked half as hand-
some now, but you can't paddle
around in the mud all day and
keep clean. That is I can't.
My coat is a sooty-black now
and I won't be able to change it
as long as I live.

Do you see that bare patch on
my forehead! Well, that ac-
counts for some people's calling
me a "Bald-headed Coot."
Maybe you will be called that
some day, too.

I don't often come to dry land,
but when I do I march along
very gracefully. I can fly, too^
though my wings do appear too
short for my size. I just stretch
my legs out behind my stumpy
tail, spread my wings, and away
I go.

I swim easily too, with a
peculiar bobbing motion ol my
head and neck. You should
just see a lot of us patter over
the water, using our feet as
much as our wings, when
alarmed. And such a cackling
as we do keep up! Why, you
can hear us quite half a mile.

There is one thing about my
face I should like to have
changed and that is- my nose—
my bill I mean. It is an ivory-
white and no matter how much
I stick it in the mud it will stay
white. It is a good mark, you
see, for a man with a gun, and I
am dreadfully afraid I shall
be shot some day. I have
seen a number of my mates
popped over just on account of
their white bills.

I visit you in April and leave
you in November when the
streams freeze over. I hope you
will have pleasant weather next
month, for I am making prepara-
tion to visit you then.

96

THE AMERICAN COOT.

CIENCE, in its classifica-
tion and naming of birds,
has rendered it quite easy
for any one to recognize
unmistakably anywhere
any specimen we have pictured in our
magazine. In some sections this inter-
esting Duck is known as the Mud-hen,
in others the Crow Duck, in still others
as the Ivory-billed Mud-hen, but with
the picture in hand or in mind, one need
never call the bird by any other than
its correct name, the American Coot.
The European Coot resembles it, but
its average size is slightly larger, its
habits, however, being in all repects
like those of its American relative.
Davie says that this is the water fowl
that the young sportsman persists in
shooting as a game bird, but at a riper
age he does not "hanker" after its
flesh.

The habitat of the Coot is very
extensive, covering the whole of North
America, middle America, and the West
Indies; north to Greenland and Alaska,
south to Veragua and Trinidad.

The Coot is a summer resident in
large marshes, and is not often rare in
any marshy situation. It arrives the
last of April and remains until the last
of November. It nests at the same
time as the Florida Gallinule (see
BIRDS, Vol. I, p. 121,) but shows a
greater preference for reed patches,
in which its nests are usually located,
often in from two to four feet of water.
The nests are generally larger than
those of Gallinules, and rarely com-
posed of other material than the dry
stalks of reeds and grasses. They are
placed on the ground, just out of the
water or on floating vegetation. Some
times immense numbers of Coots breed
together. The eggs are clay or creamy-
white, uniformly and finely dotted all
over with specks of dark brown and
black. From six to twelve eggs have

been found in a nest. As winter
approaches and the marshes and shallow
pools become covered with ice, these
birds congregate in immense flocks on
the rivers and small lakes, and
remain until cold weather closes the
streams.

Mr. Nelson says the Coot has a
curious habit when approached by a
boat in a stream, rising often before
the boat is within gunshot, and flying
directly by the boatman, generally so
near that it may be easily brought
down. The abundance of Ducks and
other game birds has caused the mem-
bers of this family to be but little
molested, until within a few years,
when amateur sportsmen, finding
Ducks difficult to obtain, and
" Mud-hens," as Coots and Gallinules
are called, conveniently tame, have
turned their batteries upon them
and diminished their numbers about
many marshes. In the more retired
marshes, however, they still breed
abundantly. These birds differ from
the Gallinules in being social, going
in flocks, and in preferring the open
water. They sport and rest on musk-
rat houses and bare places of land and
dress their feathers there. During
the breeding season they keep near
their reedy cover, into which they
quickly swim and hide, in case of
danger. They swim and walk with
a nodding motion of the head.
They are not expert divers, but
go to the bottom when closely-
pressed and unable to fly. The flesh
of the Coot is dark and not good eating,
and its feathers are not soft and downy ;
it is, therefore, not sought after by the
pot hunter, nor considered a game bird
by the sportsman, for which reasons,
as well as the fact that the feathers
cannot be used by the ladies for per-
sonal adornment, the birds are not shy
and are easily approached.

99

INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT BIRDS.

t eeS
O cO

II

ENSES of sight, smell, and
hearing are remarkably
acute in birds. This is
especially true of sight.
Some have three eye
lids, the upper and lower and a mem-
brane which can be drawn over the
entire eye-ball, called the nictitating
membrane, enabling them to look
directly at the sun. Eagles, Hawks,
and Owls are thus provided. The
eyes of the Eagles and Hawks are
provided also with a ring of bony
plates, by means of which the eye
adjusts itself like a telescope, taking
in both near and far objects.

Birds, except nocturnal species, have
no external ear, but hear well.

The young of nest building birds
when born are blind, naked, and unable
to walk. In the Hen, the Partridge, and
the Ducks, the young are able to walk,
swim, or pick up food, as soon as they
break the . shell. When moulting, at
the close of the breeding season, Quails
usually shed in pairs. The male
generally assumes a duller hued coat
than the female.

With most birds of prey the female
is the larger.

Bird's songs are composed of love-
notes and pleasure-notes. We speak of
the scream of birds, their chirp, expres-
sions of joy orfear,as in thehuman voice.
Their songs can be set to music. See

S. P. Cheney's " Wood Notes Wild,"
in which the songs of many of our
common birds are thus reproduced.
The odd and peculiar actions of birds,
their dances, struts, and posturings
are all expressions of their emotions.

The nesting habits of birds are
varied. Gulls drop eggs on bare
ground or rocks ; the Baltimore Oriole
and Tailor bird construct hanging
nests of elaborate workmanship ; the
Woodpecker hews out a deep nest in
a rotten limb ; the Kingfisher digs one
out of a sandy bank, while the Cuckoo
takes possession of the 'nest of some
other bird. Most birds select nesting
places away from other species, but
Swallows, English Sparrows, Crackles,
and Crows live in communities.

There are between seven and eight
thousand species of living birds.
A few species have become ex-
tinct, specimens of which it is the
intention of BIRDS to present in future
numbers.

There are three centers of distribu-
tion in the United States : (i) the At-
lantic states and Mississippi valley ;
(2) the Rocky Mountain plateau ; (3)
the Pacific coast.

Most of the birds breeding in the
northern portions of the United States
migrate south during the winter
months. Those remaining are known
as residents.

100

THE IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER.

5T
I

'N size, though hardly in beauty,
this is indeed the prince of
Woodpeckers, the largest of
our North American species.
Its length ranges from nineteen
to twenty-one inches. There is one
other Woodpecker, called the Imperial,
which is larger, measuring twenty-
three or twenty-four inches in length.
This bird is found in Western Mexico,
north along the Sierra Madre, and
probably, according to Davie, has not
yet been observed within the limits of
the United States.

The Ivory-billed is now rare, and is
apparently restricted to the extreme
southern states, especially those bor-
dering the Gulf of Mexico. It is of
a wild and wary disposition, making
its home in the dark, swampy wood-
lands. The dense cypress swamps
of Florida are one of its favorite
haunts.

The nest of the Ivory-bill is
excavated in a tree, about forty feet
from the ground, the cavity often
being nearly two feet in depth. Three
or more eggs are laid.

This bird does not remain long in
one place, and during the day ranges
over an extended territory. Its call is
a high, rather nasal, yap-yap-yap,
sounding in the distance like the note
of a penny trumpet.

To use the language of Chapman,
whose " Handbook " is a mine of
ornithological knowledge, Wood-
peckers are rather solitary birds, but
are sometimes found associated in
scattered companies during their
migrations. Above all other birds,
they are especially adapted to creep or
climb. The peculiar structure of the
foot, with its two toes directed forward
and two backward, except in one
genus, the Three-toed (which will
appear in the April number of BIRDS),
assists them in clinging to an upright

surface, while the pointed, stiffened
tail feathers serve as a prop when the
bird is resting. The stout, chisel-like
bill is used to cut away wood and
expose the hiding places of grubs, etc.,
when the long, distensible tongue,
with its horny, spear-like tip is thrust
in, the food impaled and drawn out.

All Woodpeckers are of value to the
farmer. It has been shown that two-
thirds to three-fourths of their food
consists of insects, chiefly noxious.
Wood-boring beetles, both adults and
larvae, are conspicuous, and with them
are associated manycaterpillers, mostly
species that burrow into trees. Next
in importance are the ants that live in
decaying wood, all of which are sought
by Woodpeckers and eaten in great
quantities. Many ants are particu-
larly harmful to timber, for if they
find a small spot of decay in the vacant
burrow of some wood-borers, they
enlarge the hole, and as their colony is
always on the increase, continue to eat
away the wood until the whole trunk
is honeycombed. Moreover, these
insects are not accessible to other
birds, and could pursue their career of
destruction unmolested were it not
that the Woodpeckers, with beaks and
tongues especially fitted for such work,
dig out and devour them. It is thus
evident that the Woodpeckers are
great conservators of forests. To
them, more than to any other agency,
we owe the preservation of timber
from hordes of destructive insects.

The Ivory-billed Woodpecker, living
his almost solitary life in the vast and
nearly impenetrable cypress swamps,
at a height of forty and fifty feet from
the ground, is rarely seen by man.
The specimens we present in BIRDS
are so nearly life-like that our readers
need only imagine themselves in the
dense forest of cypress to realize a very
natural scene.

101

THE IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER.

Tap! Yap! Yap!

As I am called the prince of
Woodpeckers, I can, I suppose,
shout just as loud as I like. Of
course my cousin, the Red-
bellied Woodpecker, will turn up
his bill and say they only call
me the prince because I am the
largest of all the North Ameri-
can Woodpeckers. Well, I
think that is reason enough,
don't you? Some creatures who
are not birds, have been called
princes and kings for less than
that — so I have heard.

Mr. Red-belly had a great deal
to say about, and for himself, in
BIRDS last month ; he sent his
picture, too. Pooh ! he can't
compare with me. I am said to
be the most magnificent Wood-
pecker of the whole lot. My
species is select, too, no matter
if he does say the whole family
of Woodpeckers are common. We
are considered rare birds. You
don't find us in all localities, no
indeed ! You will have to travel
to the far, far south to catch a
glimpse of one of us magnificent
fellows. "Should you ever go way
down on the Suwanee river, and
walk "real easy" through the
cypress forests you might get a
peep at one of us. But we are

wild and shy, and like to travel
long distances through the
day; no stay-at-home bodies
among us.

I'm not one of the three-toed
Woodpeckers, either, that Mr.
Red-belly was so anxious to tell
you about. It's very strange
how eager some people are to
talk about other people's imper-
fections. I have four toes, two
in front and two behind, so it
isn't "sour grapes" that leads me
to speak as I do. I'll admit my
feet are peculiar, my toes assist-
ing me in clinging to an upright
surface, and my pointed stiff
tail-feathers serving to prop me
up when resting.

I think I am very fortunate,
too, in having such a stout,
chisel-like bill, and such a
horny, spear-like tongue. With
the first I cut away wood and
explore the hiding place of
grubs; with the latter I impale
them and draw the food out.
Dear, dear! How fearfully and
wonderfully we are made, to be
sure — birds as well as men.

Sing! No, wish I could. But
then I have a love-song which
my mate thinks is fine; 'tis a
long, rolling call, which I beat
with my bill.

From col. Chi. Acad Sciences.

IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER,
x-t Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 189H, Chicago.

THE SPARROW HAWK.

Killy-killy-.killy-killy /

That's my song and I don't
sing it very low either. It is
for that reason some people call
me the Killy Hawk.

The boys who spend much
time in the fields are very well
acquainted with me. Many a
time, I dare say, they have seen
me patiently sitting, for an hour
or more, on a lofty branch wait-
ing for " something to turn up."

Something does generally turn
up, and that is a mouse. " Ah,"
says she, peeking out from her
nest, " there is nobody around,
so I will go out for a walk," and
out she comes, not noticing me
way up in the tree, of course.

Then I dive from my perch
and fly directly over her. A
mouse can't keep still, somehow,
and from point to point she runs,
zigzagging this way and that
way, giving me lots of trouble,
for I have to zigzag, too. After
awhile she stands still for a
minute, and so do I, up in the

air, my fan-like tail spread out
very wide, my head lowered and
—well, pretty soon it is all over
with Mrs. Mouse. But mice are
nuisances anyway, don't you
think ? Just because people
have seen me do that little trick
they call me the Mouse Hawk.
I catch Sparrows, and other
small birds, so they call me the
Sparrow Hawk, too.

I don't care what they call me,
to tell you the truth, just so
they let me alone. It's not
pleasant to have a stone thrown
at you, or a gun pointed your
way— —if it is loaded, and they
generally are loaded, I notice,
with something that hurts.

My nest ? Oh, I don't care for
that sort of work, so I never build
one. Any natural hole in a high
tree, the deserted hole of a Wood-
pecker, or a Magpie's nest, is good
enough for me. Just a few
leaves in the bottom, and on
them my mate lays five eggs,
sometimes six, sometimes seven.

105

THE AMERICAN SPARROW HAWK.

I VERY boy who has been in the
fields is familiar with this
beautiful little Hawk,
which is numerous every-
where in North America. As Davie
felicitously says: "Here it may be
seen hovering almost motionless in
mid air, then suddenly swooping down
to the ground, arises again with per-
haps a field-mouse in its talons."
From this habit it receives the name
of Mouse Hawk, although it also preys
upon Sparrows and other small birds.
It is found almost everywhere, though
most abundant along streams where
grow the high sycamores, whose natural
cavities furnish suitable nesting places,
but meadows and fields are its retreats
when in search of food. It builds no
nest, but deposits its eggs in the
natural cavities of high trees, often in
the deserted holes of Woodpeckers,
or in crevices in rocks or nooks about
buildings. In the West it frequently
appropriates a deserted Magpie's nest.
Eggs of this Hawk were taken from
a crevice in a stone quarry in the
Scioto river, where the birds nested
for years. The Sparrow Hawk often
takes possession of boxes intended for
Pigeons, and it always proves to be a
peaceable neighbor. The nests gen-
erally contain no lining, but in some
cases a slight bed of leaves or grasses
on a few chips are used. The eggs

are four to six, buffy wrhite, speckled,
spotted, and blotched with light and
dark brown.

This Hawk is not as active or de-
structive as others of the Falcon tribe.
Its flight is usually short and irregular,
darting here and there, often hovering
in a suspended manner for several
moments at a time. During the sum-
mer months, it occasionally kills small
birds, but feeds chiefly upon mice,
lizards, grasshoppers, crickets, and the
like, as they are so much easier to
capture than full grown birds, and to
which they rarely turn their attention,
until the cold weather drives the other
forms of life, upon which they so
largely feed, into their winter beds.
The bird that suffers most outside of
the Horned Larks and Longspurs, is
the Tree Sparrow, as it prefers the
hedges and small thickets upon the
prairies, instead of the wooded lands,
for its sheltered home; its food in all
such cases being upon the open lands,
and whenever there is snow upon the
ground it drifts against the hedges and
forces the little birds to seek the bare
spots, quite a distance away, for the
seeds on or fallen from the weeds.
Here it is that the Hawk, says Goss,
successfully performs its work, by dart-
ing from a perch and striking the
Sparrow, either upon the ground or
before it can reach its hiding place.

The woods are full of voices everywhere;
An hundred chipmunks' sharp, quick tones are there ;
The cricket's chirp, the partridge drum,
The harsh-voiced crows which go and come,

In Nature's song agree.
The breeze that wanders through the firs,
The rustle of each leaf that stirs,

Are whisperings to me.
So, when swift impulse leads in ways unknown,

I follow on without a thought of fear;
God reigns, and I can never be alone,
With Nature near.

— TOM CARDER, JR.

106

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

AMERICAN SPARROW HAWK.
% Life-size.

Copyright l\v
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1888. Chica«(i

HINTS ON THE STUDY OF WINTER BIRDS.

I

Gil

N attractiveness to children, says
James E. McDade, for the Com-
mittee of Sixty of Chicago, no
department of natural history
surpasses Ornithology. Birds
are to be found everywhere. In the
city parks and suburban groves careful
observation will reveal objects of study,
even in the depths of winter. The
following suggestions are based on
practical work which has been done in
the G. W. Curtis school during the
past two years.

No satisfactory work can be done
until the children have been aroused
to sufficient interest to observe birds
for themselves. Pictures and descrip-
tions, however valuable as auxiliaries,
can never take the place of personal
observation. The best method of
arousing this interest is to go out with
the children and study the birds.
Opera glasses or field glasses will
greatly facilitate observation.

As a guide in description pupils may
have in mind the following points :
shape and size of bird ; prevailing
color ; marks on head, wings, throat,
or tail ; shape of bill ; length of tail ;
where found (whether on the ground,
in trees, or climbing tree trunks).
These and other details should be
emphasized.

In all this work strict accuracy must
be insisted on. In the beginning,
pupils are apt to give inaccurate, and,
in some instances, highly imaginary
descriptions of birds. A good plan is
to encourage them to bring in written
descriptions of birds they have seen.

Such field work may well furnish
excellent subject matter for water color

work, as well as a basis for written
compositions. Good collections of our
native birds may be found in the Field
Columbian Museum and in, the mus-
eum of the Chicago Academy of
Sciences, and the curators of these in-
stitutions will be found ready to give
teachers any aid in their power.

Mr. McDade mentions the following
as the most common winter birds of
this vicinity, not including swimmers
and waders : the English Sparrow, the
Snow Bird, the Bluejay, the Thistle-
bird, the Black-capped Chickadee, the
White-bellied Nuthatch, the Northern
Shrike or Butcherbird, the Horned
Lark, and the Crow.

In many parts of the country there
are good collections of birds which are
accessible, and which may, by a little
inquiry, be found by those interested.
We do not hesitate to say, however,
that the specimens of birds shown
monthly in this magazine have stim-
ulated the successful study of Ornith-
ology to a degree never imagined as
possible. The pictures are so true to
nature in color and attitude that they
are instantly fixed in the mind. We
know several instances where children
of eight and ten years have become by
its use so familiar with many birds
that they can draw and paint them
from memory with considerable fidelity.
BIRDS is indeed the best means of ac-
quiring speedy as well as accurate
knowledge of Ornithology desired by
those who do not expect to pursue the
study in all its scientific ramifications.
We refer with confidence to the recog-
nized authorities on the subject.

C. C. MARBLE.

109

THE SILVER PHEASANT.

The Peasant Cocke the woods doth most frequent,
Where Spaniells spring and pearche him by the sent.

3T
1

N beautiful contrast with the
Golden Pheasant (see BIRDS,
Vol. T, p. 13) we present this
month the magnificent Silver or
Penciled Pheasant, also a native
of China, which has long been intro-
duced into Europe, but has been con-
sidered to be fitted only for the aviary.
The Pheasant was long thought to
have been brought from the banks of
the river Phasis, now the Rioni, in
Colchis, and introduced into Europe
by the Argonauts. Newton says that,
as a matter of fact, nothing is
known on this point ; and, judging
from the recognition of the remains of
several species referred to, both in
Greece and in France, it seems not
impossible that the ordinary Pheasant
may have been indigenous to England.
It was thought only a few years ago
that the successful propagation of
Pheasants was problematical, but 'now
the Mongolian, the English Ring-
necked, and the Chinese Golden Pheas-
ant, each has found a home in some
of the states, where it is increasing in
numbers. Why may not a similar
experiment be made with the Silver
Pheasant ?

On Fox Island, in Puget Sound,
there is an oriental Pheasant preserve.
Mr. Frank Ailing, the proprietor, is
securing the co-operation of other land
owners, and it promises to be a great
success. The varieties of Pheasants
which he is raising include all we have
mentioned in this article, as well as
the Copper, the Green, the Bronze, and
the Asiatic Ring-necks, with a cur-
iosity in the shape of a mule produced
by crossing and recrossing the Copper

— OLD RHYME.

and Asiatic Ring-necks. The mule
hens are very beautiful, but their eggs
will not hatch. Oriental Quails liber-
ated on the island have increased quite
rapidly. Among the many importa-
tions are small Bantams from Woo
Sung, China, for hatching Pheasant
eggs and rearing the young birds ;
Mandarin Ducks, from Japan, (see
BIRDS, Vol. I, p. 9); Wild Peacocks
and Bleeding Heart Pigeons, from
Calcutta, India, and Manila, respect-
ively.

In England within recent years the
practice of bringing up Pheasants by
hand has been extensively followed,
and the numbers so reared, says New-
ton, vastly exceed those that are bred
at large. The eggs are collected from
birds that are either running wild or
kept in a mew, and are placed under
domestic hens ; but, though these
prove most attentive foster-mothers,
much additional care on the part of
the keepers is needed to insure the
arrival at maturity of the chicks ; for,
being necessarily crowded in a com-
paratively small space, they are sub-
ject to several diseases which often
carry off a large proportion, to say
nothing of the risk they run of not
being provided with proper food or of
meeting an early death from some
predatory animal. As they advance
in age the young Pheasants readily
take to a wild life, and indeed can only
be kept from wandering in every direc-
tion by being plentifully supplied with
food, which has to be scattered for
them in the places in which it is desired
that they should stay.

EIDER DUCK FARMS

The Fluffy Feathers Gathered in Iceland.

from her
the drake

ACCOUNTS I have read
about Eider Ducks say that
nests are robbed of their
down twice, the duck
supplying it each time
own body ; the third time
gives his white down, and
this is allowe4 to remain, declares a
writer in Good Words. But I was
told by farmers in Iceland that
now they never take the down until
the little ones are hatched. It has
been found that the birds thrive better
and increase faster when they are
allowed to live as nature meant them
to. So now the poor mothers are
no longer obliged to strip themselves
of all their down to refurnish their
despoiled nests. Sometimes, if the
quantity is very great, a little may be
taken, but enough must be left to
cover the eggs when the duck leaves
her nest for food.

A writer from Iceland, in speaking
of a visit to one of the Isafjord farms,
wrote: "On the coast was a wall
built of large stones, just above high
water level, about three feet high and
of considerable thickness at the
bottom. On both sides of it alternate
stones had been left out so as to form
a series of square compartments for
the ducks to make their nests in.
Almost every compartment was occu-
pied, and as we walked along the

shore a line of ducks flew out, one
after another. The house was a
marvel ; the earthen walls that sur-
round it and the window embrasures
were occupied with ducks. On the
ground the house was fringed with
ducks. On the turf slopes of the roof
we could see ducks, and ducks sat on
the scraper."

About 10,000 pounds of eiderdown
are gathered annually in Iceland,
7,000 being exported to foreign
countries. Formerly the peasants
used to receive over 21 shillings a
pound, but the price has now fallen to
half that amount. The peasants sel-
dom receive money, and are obliged
to barter their down for merchandise
furnished by the Danish merchants at
the little settlements at the fjords. A
pound and a half of down is enough
to fill an ordinary bed-puff. These
very comfortable articles are found in
the guest room of every Iceland farm,
however poor and small it may be.
After a long, hard day in the saddle
the traveler longs for warmth and
shelter. These little guest rooms have
never had a fire in them, and built,
as they are, on the ground, there is a
dreadful chill on them. Once tucked
away in bed, and tired bones lose their
pains and stiffness, however, and well
covered with the down-puff, a delight-
ful sense of comfort follows.

THE SCALED PARTRIDGE.

^) 1 HROUGHOUT Northwestern

^ I Mexico and the border of the
OJ I United States, from Western

~^ Texas to New Mexico and
Southern Arizona, this handsome
Partridge, called the Blue Quail, is
found in abundance, especially on the
dry mesas of the San Pedro slope of
the Santa Catalina Mountains, up to
an altitude of three thousand five hun-
dred feet. In Arizona they are found
in flocks of from six to ten, sometimes
more, in the most barren places, miles
away from water.

The Blue Quail, like all the other
western and southwestern species,
prefers to trust to safety to its powers

of running, rather than those of flight.
The great trouble is to start them from
the ground.

A slight depression under a bush
serves for the nest of this bird, which
is generally lined with a few coarse
grasses. Complete sets of eggs have
been found as early as April 25. The
eggs are extremely thick-shelled, of a
buffy-white or cream color. The
number laid ranges from eight to
sixteen.

The habits of this Quail do not
differ greatly from those of Bob White,
though they have not been fully
studied, and the species is of less ex-
tensive distribution.

THE MOUND BIRD.

There are some peculiar birds in the
world, and one of the strangest is the
Australian Megapod, or Mound bird,
that allows nature to perform the labor
of hatching its eggs. In some rjarts
of the island continent are found many
mounds of considerable size and height,
which the first explorers took for burial
mounds. These were made by the
" Megapodius Tumulus," which uses
them for hatching its eggs. They have
sometimes considerable dimensions. A
nest that is 14 feet high and 55 feet in
circumference may be regarded as
large. Each Megapod builds its own
nest with materials which it gathers
from all sides, and these are exactly
what the gardener uses in the month
of March to make his forcing beds —
namely, leaves and decomposing vege-
table matter, which by their fermenta-
tion give off an appreciable amount of
heat. In the forcing beds this heat
hastens the sprouting of the seeds ; in

the nest it suffices for the development
and hatching of the young birds, and
the mother can go where she likes and
occupy herself as she wishes without
being troubled by the duties of sitting.
In the small islands of Ninafou, in the
Pacific, another bird has a somewhat
similar habit, in so far as it also
abandons its eggs, but in place of
obtaining the necessary heat from
fermentation it gets it from the warm
sand. The Leipoa or native Pheasant
of Australia acts like the Megapod and
watches the temperature of its mound
very closely, covering and uncovering
the eggs several times a day to cool
them or heat them, as becomes nec-
essary. After hatching, the young
bird remains in the mound several
hours; it leaves on the second day, but
returns for the night, and not until the
third day is it able to leave for good
the paternal abode. — American Field.

114

THE NEW TENANTS,

BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.

Mr. Wren had no need to inquire
the cause of his mate's distress, for at
this moment a loud and vehement Jay-
jay-jay, resounded from an adjacent
tree.

" Ha! " said he, "it is that villian
Mr. Blue Jay at last. I have been
expecting a call from him for some
time. I heard yesterday that he was
caught sucking the eggs of Mrs. Red-
eyed Vireo, and that Mrs. Dove was
mourning more than usual because
out of four beautiful eggs she had only
one left. But never you mind, my
dear, never you mind! He daren't
go near our nest you see, for Bridget
is out there with her broom, and if
he should dare attack us, why "

"Well!" chirped Mrs. Wren, who
at once saw the force of his reasoning,
" what would you do, Mr. Wren, should
he attack us? I'd like to know because
I am quite sure what dear papa would
have done under the circumstances."

"So am I," responded Mr. Wren
with a chuckle, " so am I."

"So are you — what? " retorted Mrs
Wren, angrily tapping the perch on
which she sat with her foot.

" Sure what your dear papa would
have done, my dear, under the circum-
stances. Ha, ha, ha !" and Mr. Wren
flirted his tail over his head and
hopped about in anything but a digni-
fied or warrior-like manner.

Mrs. Wren surveyed him with con-
tempt and surprise.

"Of all the ex -as -per -at -ing
creatures," she said, " you are the
worst. First you whispered and bid
me be silent, and now just look at you
hopping about and jibbering like an
idiot ! I wish Mr. Blue Jay would
come over here and "

"Come over here?" Mr. Wren
almost turned a somersault in his
glee. " Come over here, my dear !
Not much ! Don't you see that King-
bird over there with his eye on Mr.
Jay ! There's going to be a fight, a
real knock-down, feather-pulling fight,
and 1—7 won't be in it!" and Mr.
Wren whistled and chattered and
flirted his tail in a greatly relieved
and truly funny manner.

"If I wasn't so anxious about the
eggs," said Mrs. Wren, "I'd stay here
and see the fight, too. They are well
matched, both such fine, handsome
birds — especially Mr. Jay. Ah, how
it does all remind me of dear papa."

Mr. Wren could have laughed aloud
when he thought of her plain, crooked-
legged little father, but he only sniffed
and said something about Mr. Jay
being a saucy, impudent dude.

"But really, now, he is handsome,"
repeated Mrs. Wren, "only see how his
head feathers stand up! My, how
angry they both are. What can be
the matter, I wonder?"

"If you will stop talking for a
minute," returned Mr. Wren, "per-
haps we can hear. Mr. Blue Jay is a

117

great coward when it comes to fight-
ing one of his size. More than likely
he will sneak away, or fly off scream-
ing loudly at the first signs of attack."

"If you will stop your chatter,"
sharply retorted Mrs. Wren, "we
may hear what they are saying.
Listen, can't you?"

"You old thief and pickpocket,"
shrieked Mr. Kingbird, his head
feathers standing up like an Indian
chief's, "whose nest around here are
you lying in wait to rob?"

"What business is it of yours?"
retorted Mr. Jay with a sneer. "You
old tyrant! A nice fellow, indeed, to
be calling people names. The pot
calling the kettle black. Humph ! "

Mr. Kingbird, aware of the many
young birds he had eaten in his time
concluded he had best confine himself
exclusively to the question of eggs.

"It's only a sneak," he replied,
"that will creep up when the mother
bird is off her nest and suck the eggs.
Nobody but a coward would do it.
The Mourning Dove's cries the other
day were truly heartrending. I made
up my mind then that the very first
time you crossed my path I would
thrash you."

"That's right, give it to him, give
it to him !" cried the birds in chorus,
a large number of which, attracted by
the quarrel, had formed themselves
into a ring about the tree tops. "He's
not only a thief but a bully,
always ready to whip a bird under
his size."

Mr. Blue Jay winced for a second,
for it is not pleasant to find one's self
hated by all his fellow kind.

"I'll swear," said he, lifting up one
foot solemnly, "that I have not been
near the Mourning Dove's nest this
season."

"Nor the Red-eyed Vireo's?"

"Nor the Red-eyed Vireo's, "affirmed
Mr. Blue Jay, slightly closing one eye,
and coughing behind his foot.

"Oh, oh, oh!" chorused a dozen
voices, "we saw him around there this
very morning."

"And I," said a Bluebird, "saw him
destroy the eggs in Mrs. Mourning
Dove's nest, myself."

"So," sternly said Mr. Kingbird,
" the rascal adds perjury to his other
crimes. It is the duty of every honest
citizen of the woods and orchards to
rid the world of such a villain. Defend
yourself, Mr. Jay, or "

At this moment a loud and vehement
Zeay, ze-a-y," broke in upon Mr.
Kingbird's speech.

"Ah! Mr. Catbird," said he, his
crest suddenly falling, "I think, I —
will attend to this case another time,"
and much to the disappointment of
the assembled crowd Mr. Kingbird
took wing and flew away.

No sooner was he gone than Mr.
Blue Jay nearly doubled himself up
with laughter.

" I thought that would make his
feathers fall," he said, resuming his
braggart manner. "I have noticed how
quickly he gets out of the way of Mr.
Catbird, though he will fight a Hawk,
or a Crow, or even an Eagle. He ! he !
he ! I imitated Mr. Catbird very well,
didn't I ?" and the rogue, to show his
powers of mimicry, cried Zeay, ze-a-y,
again, then Caw, caw, like a Crow,

118

meowed like a cat, barked like a dog,
crowed like a Rooster, and finished
with a loud, harsh Kee-oot kee-oo, which
put all the birds to flight.

"The Red-shouldered Hawk," they
one and all cried with frightened
glances into the air, and Mrs. Wren,
forgetting for the moment that it was
only Mr. Jay imitating Mr. Hawk, flew
over to her nest in the greatest con-
sternation.

"Well, well," she said afterward
with a laugh, "it was 'much ado
about nothing ' after all. But what a
clever fellow that Mr. Jay is to be
sure! Really I cannot help but ad-
mire him, rogue though he is," and
with a pretty flutter of her wings Mrs.
Wren gathered the six speckled
treasures under her breast and sat
down to brood.

"I don't see how you could have
covered more than six eggs, my dear,"
said Mr. Wren tenderly. "You are
such a little body, you know. Mrs.
John last year, though, had ten in one
brood, did she not?"

"Yes," sniffed Mrs. Wren, "and her
neighbors have never heard the last
of it. Such a gossip and braggart as
she is. Why, she tells every lady
bird that calls on her that her Mr.
Wren had three furnished houses when
he proposed to her; one in a knot-
hole of an apple tree, one on top of a
very high pole, and the other — well,
really I forget; under the roof of a
meeting house, I believe.

"Hm!" said Mr. Wren, turning up
his bill, "that's the reason she accepted

him, I suppose. To my notion he is
a most unattractive fellow, ugly as he
is proud."

" Oh, handsome is as handsome
does," returned Mrs. Wren, " as our
landlady says. But you can't deny
that he makes my cousin a good
husband. It is very foolish for them
to boast so, for they can only occupy
one house at a time, and surely they
have to earn their food by searching
for insects and worms, precisely as we
do. Then, too, riches take wings
sometimes, and fly away, and as I told
one of my neighbors the other day, I
am just as happy in this old tin pot as
I would be on top of the highest pole."

" How glad I am to hear you say
that," returned Mr. Wren, tears
glistening in his little black eyes,
" for there can be no true happiness
without contentment — as our landlord
says. Dear little mate! Fourteen
days you must sit on the nest. How
tired you will be ! "

"Oh, I don't mind that," replied
Mrs. Wren, " if only our birdlings
hatch out pretty and good. Once in a
while I will fly off for a little exercise,
you know, and, like Mr. John, you
will take my place on the nest and
keep the eggs warm."

" Oh ! " exclaimed Mr. Wren, rue-
fully; "I hadn't calculated on doing
that. But we will see. I'm off, now,
to get something to eat, and will fetch
you as delicious a spider or nice fat
canker worm as I can find. Ta, ta,
love ! " and off Mr. Wren flew to the
orchard, singing as he went.

119

SUMMARY.

Page 86.

BLACK DUCK. — Anas obscura. Other
name: "Dusky Duck."

RANGE — North America ; breeds from Illinois
and New Jersey to Hudson Bay and Labrador ;
winters southward to the Greater Antilles.

NEST — On the ground, in grass or rushes in
the neighborhood of ponds, pools, and streams.

EGGS — Eistfit to twelve, pale greenish or
bluish white, or creamy buff.

Page 90.

WILSON'S PETREL.— Oceanites oceanicus.

RANGE — Atlantic Ocean ; breeds in southern
seas (Kenguelen Island) and migrates north-
ward, spending the summer off our coasts.

NEST — In the crevices of rocks.

EGG — One, white.

Page 94.

BLUE-GRAY GNATCATCHER.— Poliop-
tila caerulea.

RANGE — Eastern United States ; breeds from
the Gulf States to northern Illinois, southern
Ontario and New Jersey, and wanders rarely to
Minnesota and Maine ; winters from Florida
southward.

NEST — Of fine strips of bark and fine grasses
firmly interwoven and covered with lichens, on
branch or in crotch of tree, ten to sixty feet up^

EGGS — Four or five, bluish white, thickly
spotted and speckled with brown.

COOT. — Fulica Americana.
"Mud-hen," "Crow Duck,"

Page 98.

AMERICAN
Other names :
"Blue Peter."

RANGE — North America as far north as Alaska
and New Brunswick and Greenland ; breeds
throughout its range.

NEST — Of reeds and grasses, among reeds in
fresh water marshes.

EGGS— Eight to fifteen, pale, buffy white,
speckled with chocolate on black.

Page 102.
IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER. — Cam-

pephilus principalis.

RANGE— Formerly South Atlantic and Gulf
States, from North Carolina to Texas 4 north in
the Mississippi valley to Missouri, southern
Illinois, and southern Indiana. Now restricted
to the Gulf States and the lower Mississippi
Valley, where only locally distributed. (A.O.U.)

NEST — In the higher part of a tree.

EGGS — Three have been found.

Page 107.

AMERICAN SPARROW HAWK. — Falco
sparverius. Other name : "KillyHawk."

RANGE — From Florida to Hudson Bay, and
winters from New Jersey southward.

NEST — In a hole in a tree, frequently in a
Woodpecker's deserted nest.

EGGS — Three to seven, creamy white to rufous,
generally finely and evenly marked with shades
of the ground color.

Page in.

SILVER PHEASANT.— Phasianus nycthe-
merus. Other name : " Penciled."

RANGE — Throughout China.

Page 115.

SCALED PARTRIDGE.— Callipepla squam-
ata. Other name : "Blue Quail."

RANGE — Northwestern Mexico and border of
the United States, from western Texas to New
Mexico and southern Arizona.

NEST — A slight depression under a bush, lined
with a few coarse grasses.

EGGS — Eight to sixteen, of a buffy-white or
cream color, irregularly dotted with specks of
light brown.

120

BIRDS.

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

VOL. III.

APRIL, 1898.

No. 4.

AVIARIES.

N admirer of birds recently
said to us : "Much is said
of the brilliant specimens
which you have pre-
sented in your magazine,
but I confess that they have not been
the most attractive to me. Many birds
of no special beauty of plumage seem
to me far more interesting than those
which have little more than bright
colors and a pretty song to recommend
them to the observer." He did not
particularize, but a little reflection
will readily account for the justness
of his opinion. Many plain birds have
characteristics which indicate consider-
able intelligence, and may be watched
and studied with continued and increas-
ing interest. To get sufficiently near
to them in their native haunts for this
purpose is seldom practicable, hence
the limited knowledge of individual
naturalists, who are often mere gener-
alizers, and the necessity of the accum-
ulated knowledge of many patient
students. In an aviary of sufficient
size, in which there is little or no
interference with the natural habits of
the birds, a vast number of interesting
facts may be obtained, and the birds
themselves suffer no harm, but are
rather protected from it. Such an
aviary is that of Mr. J. W. Sefton, of
San Diego, California. In a recent
letter Mrs. Sefton pleasantly writes of
it for the benefit of readers of BIRDS.
She says :

"My aviary is out in the grounds of
our home. It is built almost entirely
of wire, protected only on the north
and west by an open shed, under which
the birds sleep, build their nests and
gather during the rains which we

occasionally have throughout the
winter months. The building is forty
feet long, twenty feet wide, and at the
center of the arch is seventeen feet
high. Running water trickles over
rocks, affording the birds the oppor-
tunity of bathing as they desire.
There are forty-seven varieties of birds
and about four hundred specimens.
The varieties include a great many
whose pictures have appeared in
BIRDS : Quail, Partridge, Doves, Sky-
larks, Starlings, Bobolinks, Robins,
Blackbirds, Buntings, Grosbeaks, Blue
Mountain Lory, Cockateel, Rosellas,
Grass Parrakeet, Java Sparrows, Canar-
ies, Nonpariels, Nightingales, Cardi-
nals of North and South America, and
a large number of rare foreign Finches,
indeed nearly every country of the world
has a representative in the aviary.

"We have hollow trees in which the
birds of the Parrot family set up house-
keeping. They lay their eggs on the
bottom of the hole, make no pretention
of building a nest, and sit three weeks.
The young birds are nearly as large as
the parents, and are fully feathered
and colored when they crawl out of
the home nest. We have been very
successful, raising two broods of Cock-
ateel and one of Rosellas last season.
They lay from four to six round white
eggs. We have a number of Bob
White and California Quail. Last
season one pair of Bob Whites decided
to go to housekeeping in some brush
in a corner, and the hen laid twenty-
three eggs, while another pair made
their nest in the opposite corner and
the hen laid nine eggs. After sitting
two weeks the hen with the nine eggs
abandoned her nest, when the male

took her place upon the eggs, only
leaving them for iood and water, and
finally brought out six babies, two
days after the other hen hatched
twenty- three little ones. For six days
the six followed the lone cock around
the aviary, when three of them left him
and went over to the others. A few
days later another little fellow aban-
doned him and took up with a Cali-
fornia Quail hen. The next day the
poor fellow was alone, every chick
having deserted him. The last little
one remained with his adopted mother
over two weeks, but at last he too
went with the crowd. These birds
seemed just as happy as though they
were unconfined to the limits of an
aviary.

"We have had this aviary over two
years and have raised a large number
of birds. All are healthy and happy,
although they are out in the open
both day and night all the year round.
Many persons, observant of the happi-
ness and security of our family of
birds, have brought us their pets for
safe-keeping, being unwilling, after
seeing the freedom which our birds
enjoy, to keep them longer confined in
small cages.

"Around the fountain are calla
lillies, flags, and other growing plants,
small trees are scattered about, and
the merry whistles and sweet songs
testify to the perfect contentment of
this happy family."

Yes, these birds are happy in
such confinement. They are actually
deprived of nothing but the oppor-
tunity to migrate. They have abund-
ance of food, are protected from
predatory animals, Hawks, conscience-
less hunters, small boys, and nature
herself, who destroys more of them
than all other instrumentalities com-
bined. Under the snow lie the bodies
of hundreds of frozen birds whenever
the winter has seemed unkind. A
walk in the park, just after the thaw
in early March, revealed to us the
remorselessness of winter. They have
no defense against the icy blast of a

severe season. And yet, how many
escape its ruthlessness. On the first
day of March we saw a white-breasted
Sparrow standing on the crust of snow
by the roadside. When we came up
close to it it flew a few yards and
alighted. As we again approached,
thinking to catch it, and extending our
hand for the purpose, it flew farther
away, on apparently feeble wing. It
was in need of food. The whole earth
seemed covered with snow, and where
food might be found was the problem
the poor Sparrow was no doubt consid-
ering.

Yes, the birds are happy when
nature is bountiful. And they are
none the less happy when man provides
for them with humane tenderness.
For two years we devoted a large room
— which we never thought of calling
an aviary — to the exclusive use of a
beautiful pair of Hartz mountain
Canaries. In that short time they
increased to the number of more than
three dozen. All were healthy; many
of them sang with ecstacy, especially
when the sun shone brightly; in the
warmth of the sun they would lie with
wings raised and seem to fairly revel in
it; they would bathe once every day,
sometimes twice, and, like the English
Sparrows and the barnyard fowl, they
would wallow in dry sand provided for
them; they would recognize a call
note and become attentive to its mean-
ing, take a seed from the hand or the
lips, derive infinite pleasure from any
vegetable food of which they had long
been deprived; if a Sparrow Hawk,
which they seemed to see instantly,
appeared at a great height they hastily
took refuge in the darkest corner of
the room, venturing to the windows
only after all danger seemed past; at
the first glimmering of dawn they
twittered, preened, and sang a prodi-.
gious welcome to the morn, and as the
evening shades began to appear they
became as silent as midnight and put
their little heads away under their
delicate yellow wings.

CHARLES C. MARBLE.

FOREIGN SONG BIRDS IN OREGON.

'N 1889 and 1892 the German
Song Bird Society of Oregon
introduced there 400 pairs of
the following species of Ger-

man song birds, to-wit : Song

Thrushes, Black Thrushes, Skylarks,
Woodlarks, Goldfinches, Chaffinches,
Ziskins, Greenfinches, Bullfinches,
Grossbeaks, Black Starlings, Robin
Redbreasts, Linnets, Singing Quails,
Goldhammers, Linnets, Forest Finches,
and the plain and black headed Night-
ingales. The funds for defraying the
cost of importation and other incidental
expenses, and for the keeping of the
birds through the winter, were sub-
scribed by the citizens of Portland and
other localities in Oregon. To import
the first lot cost about $1,400. After
the birds were received they were
placed on exhibition at the Exposition
building for some days, and about
$400 was realized, which was applied
toward the expense. Subsequently all
the birds, with the exception of the
Sky and Wood Larks, were liberated
near the City Park. The latter birds
were turned loose about the fields in
the Willamette Valley.

When the second invoice of birds
arrived it was late in the season, and
Mr. Frank Dekum caused a very large
aviary to be built near his residence
where all the sweet little strangers
were safely housed and cared for during
the winter. The birds were all liberated
early in April. Up to that time
(Spring of 1893) the total cost of

importing the birds amounted to$2,ioo.

Since these birds were given their
liberty the most encouraging results
have followed. It is generally believed
that the two varieties of Nightingales
have become extinct, as few survived
the long trip and none have since been
seen. All the other varieties have
multiplied with great rapidity. This
is true especially of the Skylarks.
These birds rear from two to four
broods every season. Hundreds of them
are seen in the fields and meadows in
and about East Portland, and their
sweet songs are a source of delight to
every one. About Rooster Rock,
twenty-five miles east of Portland on
the Columbia, great numbers are to be
seen. In fact the whole Willamette
Valley from Portland to Roseburg is
full of them, probably not as plentiful
as the Ring-neck Pheasant but plenti-
ful enough for all practical purposes.
In and about the city these sweet little
songsters are in considerable abund-
ance. A number of the Black Starling
make their homes about the high
school building. The Woodlarks are
also in evidence to a pleasing extent.

There is a special State law in force
for the protection of these imported
birds. They are all friends of the
fanner, especially of the orchardists.
They are the tireless and unremitting
enemy of every species of bug and
worm infesting vegetables, crops, fruit,
etc. — S. H. GREENE, in Forest and
Stream

123

BIRD SONGS OF MEMORY.

Oh, surpassing all expression by the rhythmic use of words,
Are the memories that gather of the singing of the birds;
When as a child I listened to the Whipporwill at dark,
And with the dawn awakened to the music of the lark.

Then what a chorus wonderful when morning had begun !
The very leaves it seemed to me were singing to the sun,
And calling on the world asleep to waken and behold
The king in glory coming forth along his path of gold.

The crimson- fronted Linnet sang above the river's edge;
The Finches from the evergreens, the Thrushes in the hedge;
Each one as if a dozen songs were chorused in his own,
And all the world were listening to him and him alone.

In gladness sang the Bobolink upon ascending wing,
With cheering voice the bird of blue, the pioneer of spring;
The Oriole upon the elm with martial note and clear,
While Martins twittered gaily by the cottage window near.

Among the orchard trees were heard the Robin and the Wren,
And the army of the Blackbirds along the marshy fen;
The songsters in the meadow, and the Quail upon the wheat,
And the Warbler's minor music, made the symphony complete.

Beyond the towering chimneyd walls that daily meet my eyes
I hold a vision beautiful, beneath the summer skies;
Within the city's grim confines, above the roaring street,
The happy birds of memory are singing clear and sweet.

— GARRETT NEWKIRK.

124

THE OVENB1RD.

LOW and then an observer has
the somewhat rare pleasure
of seeing this Warbler (a
trifle smaller than the
English Sparrow) as
he scratches away, fowl fashion, for
his food. He has more than one name,
and is generally known as the Golden-
crowned Thrush, which name, it seems
to us, is an appropriate one, for by
any one acquainted with the Thrush
family he would at once be recognized
as of the genus. He has still other
names, as the Teacher, Wood Wagtail,
and Golden-crowned Accentor.

This warbler is found nearly all over
the United States, hence all the Amer-
ican readers of BIRDS should be able
to make its personal acquaintance.

Mr. Ridgway, in " Birds of Illinois,"
a book which should be especially
valued by the citizens of that state,
has given so delightful an account of
the habits of the Golden-crown, that
we may be forgiven for using a part of
it. He declares that it is one of the
most generally distributed and numer-
ous birds of eastern North America,
that it is almost certain to be found in
any piece of woodland, if not too wet,
and its frequently repeated song,
which, in his opinion, is not musical,
or otherwise particularly attractive,
but very sharp, clear, and emphatic, is
often, especially during noonday in
midsummer, the only bird note to be
heard.

You will generally see the Ovenbird
upon the ground walking gracefully
over the dead leaves, or upon an old
log, making occasional halts, during
which its body is tilted daintily up and
down. Its ordinary note, a rather faint
but sharp chip, is prolonged into a
chatter when one is chased by another.
The usual song is very clear and

penetrating, but not musical, and is
well expressed by Burroughs as sound-
ing like the words Teacher, teacher,
teacher, teacher, teacher ! the accent on
the first syllable, and each word uttered
with increased force. Mr. Burroughs
adds, however, that it has a far rarer
song, which it reserves for some nymph
whom it meets in the air. Mounting
by easy flights to the top of the tallest
tree, it launches into the air with a
sort of suspended, hovering flight, and
bursts into a perfect ecstacy of song,
rivaling the Gold Finch's in vivacity
and the Linnet's in melody. Thus do
observers differ. To many, no doubt,
it is one of the least disagreeable of
noises. Col. Goss is a very enthusiastic
admirer of the song of this Warbler.
Hear him : "Reader, if you wish to
hear this birds' love song in its fullest
power, visit the deep woods in the
early summer, as the shades of night
deepen and most of the diurnal birds
have retired, for it is then its lively,
resonant voice falls upon the air
unbroken, save by the silvery flute-
like song of the Wood Thrush; and if
your heart does not thrill with pleasure,
it is dead to harmonious sounds."
What more has been said in prose of
the song of the English Nightingale ?
The nests of the Golden Crown are
placed on the ground, usually in a
depression among leaves, and hidden
in a low bush, log, or overhanging
roots; when in an open space roofed
over, a dome-shaped structure made of
leaves, strip pings from plants and
grasses, with entrance on the side.
The eggs are from three to six, white
or creamy white, glossy, spotted as a
rule rather sparingly over the surface.
In shape it is like a Dutch oven, hence
the name of the bird.

127

ARCTIC THREE-TOED WOODPECKER.

Well, here I am, one of those
"three-toed fellows," as the
Red-bellied Woodpecker called
me in the February number of
BIRDS. It is remarkable how
impolite some folks can be, and
how anxious they are to talk
about their neighbors.

I don't deny I have only three
toes, but why he should crow
over the fact of having four
mystifies me. I can run up a
tree, zig-zag fashion, just as fast
as he can, and play hide-and-
seek around the trunk and
among the branches, too.
Another toe wouldn't do me a
bit of good. In fact it would
be in my way ; a superfluity, 'so
to speak.

In the eyes of those people
who like red caps, and red
clothes, I may not be as hand-
some as some other Wood-
peckers whose pictures you have
seen, but to my eye, the black
coat I wear, and the white vest,
and square, saffron-yellow cap
are just as handsome. The Ivory-
billed Woodpeckers, who sent
their pictures to BIRDS in the
March number, were funny look-

ing creatures, / think, though
they were dressed in such gay
colors. The feathers sticking
out at the back of the heads
made them look very comical,
just like a boy who had for-
gotten to comb his hair: Still
they were spoken of as u mag-
nificent" birds. Dear, dear,
there is no accounting for tastes.

Can I beat the drum with my
bill, as the four-toed Wood-
peckers do ? Of course I can.
Some time if you little folks* are
in a school building in the
northern part of the United
States, near a pine woods among
the mountains, a building with
a nice tin water-pipe descending
from the roof, you may hear me
give such a rattling roll on the
pipe that any sleepy scholar, or
teacher, for that matter, will
wake right up. Woodpeckers
are not always drumming for
worms, let me tell you. Once in
awhile we think a little music
would be very agreeable, so
with our chisel-like bills for
drum-sticks we pound away on
anything which we think will
make a nice noise.

128

From col. Chi. Acad Sciences

AMERICAN THREE-TOED WOODPECKER.
% Life-size.

Copyright bv
Nature Study i'ub. Co., 1S9S. Chicag

THE ARCTIC THREE-TOED WOODPECKER.

GEXERAL similarity of
appearance is seen in the
members of this family of use-
ful birds, and yet the
dissimilarity in plumage
is so marked in each species that
identification is easy from a picture
once seen in BIRDS. This Wood-
pecker is a resident of the north and
is rarely, if ever, seen south of the
Great Lakes, although it is recorded
that a specimen was seen on a tele-
graph pole in Chicago a few years ago.

The Black-backed Three-toed Wood- j
pecker — the common name of the
Arctic — has an extended distribution
from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and
from the northern boundary of the
United States northward to the Arctic
regions. Its favorite haunts are pine
woods of mountainous country. In
some portions of northern New Eng-
land it is a rare summer resident.
Audubon says that it occurs in
northern Massachusetts, and in all
portions of Maine covered by tall trees,
where it resides. It has been found
as far south as northern New York,
and it is said to be a not uncommon
resident in those parts of Lewis county,
New York, which pertain to the
Canadian fauna ; for it is found both
in the Adirondack region and in the I
coniferous forests in the Tug Hill |
range. In the vicinity of Lake Tahoe
and the summits of the Sierra Nevada
it is quite numerous in September at
and above six thousand feet. It is
common in the mountains of Oregon
and is a rare winter visitant to the
extreme northern portion of Illinois.
Observation of the habits of this
Woodpecker is necessarily limited, as
the bird is not often seen within the
regions where it might be studied.
Enough is known on the subject, how-
ever, to enable us to say that they are
similar to those of the Woodpeckers
of the states. They excavate their
holes in the dead young pine trees at

a height from the ground of five or
six feet, in this respect differing from
their cousivis, who make their nests at
a much greater height. In the nests
are deposited from four to six pure
ivory-white eggs.

We suggest that the reader, if he
has not already done so, read the
biographies and study the pictures of
the representatives of this family that
have appeared in this magazine. To
us they are interesting and instructive
beyond comparison, with the majority
of other feathered factors in creation,
and present an exceedingly attractive
study to those who delight in natural
history. They are not singing birds,
and therefore do not " furnish forth
music to enraptured ears," but their
agreeable call and love notes, their
tenor drum-beats, their fearless
presence near the habitations of man,
winter and summer, their usefulness
to man in the destruction of insect
pests, their comparative harmlessness
(for they cannot be denied subsistence),
all prove that they should be ever
welcome companions of him who was
given dominion over the beasts of the
field and the birds of the air.

In city parks where there are many
trees, bushes, and thick shrubbery, a
good many birds may be seen and
heard near the middle of March. To-
day, the 22nd of the month, in a
morning stroll, we saw and heard the
Song Sparrow, a Blue Bird, a Robin,
and two Bluejays, and would, no
doubt, have been gratified with the
presence of other early migrants, had
the weather been more propitious.
The sun was obscured by clouds, a
raw north wind was blowing, and
rain, .with threatened snow flurries,
awakened the protective instinct of
the songsters and kept them concealed.
But now, these April mornings, if you
incline to early rising, you may hear
quite a concert, and one worth
attending. — C. C. M.

IRISH BIRD SUPERSTITIONS.

HE HEDGEWARBLER,known

more popularly as the " Irish
Nightingale," is the object t>f
a most tender superstition.
By day it is a roystering fellow enough,
almost as impish as our American
Mocking Bird, in its emulative attempts
to demonstrate its ability to out-
sing the original songs of any feathered
melodist that ventures near its haunts
among the reeds by the murmuring
streams. But when it sings at night,
and particularly at the exact hour of
midnight, its plaintive and tender
notes are no less than the voices of
babes that thus return from the spirit
land to soothe their poor, heart-aching
mothers for the great loss of their
darlings. The hapless little Hedge
Sparrow has great trouble in raising
any young at all, as its beautiful
bluish-green eggs when strung above
the hob are in certain localities
regarded as a potent charm against
divers witch spells, especially those
which gain an entrance to the cabin
through the wide chimney. On the
contrary, the grayish-white and brown-
mottled eggs of the Wag-tail are never
molested, as the grotesque motion of
the tail of this tiny attendant of the
herds has gained for it the uncanny
reputation and name of the Devil's bird.
THE STARLING, THE MAGPIE, AND

THE CROW.

When the Starling does not follow
the grazing cattle some witch charm
has been put upon them. The Mag-
pie, as with the ancient Greeks, is the
repository of the soul of an evil-minded
and gossiping woman. A round-
tower or castle ruin unfrequented by
Jackdaws is certainly haunted. The
" curse of the crows " is quite as
malevolent as the " curse of Crom-
well." When a " Praheen Cark " or
Hen Crow is found in the solitudes of
mountain glens, away from human
habitations, it assuredly* possesses the

wandering soul of an impenitent sinner.
If a Raven hover near a herd of cattle
or sheep, a withering blight has already
been set upon the animals, hence the
song of the bard Benean regarding the
rights of the kings of Cashel 1,400
years ago that a certain tributary
province should present the king
yearly " a thousand goodly cows, not
the cows of Ravens." The Waxwing,
the beautiful Incendiara avis of Pliny,
whose breeding haunts have never yet
been discovered by man, are ttu torches
of the Bean-sidhe, or Banshees. When
the Cuckoo utters her first note in the
spring, if you chance to hear it, you
will find under your right foot a white
hair ; and if you keep this about your
person, the first name you thereafter
hear will be that of your future hus-
band or wife.

FOUR MOURNFUL SUPERSTITIONS.

Four other birds provide extremely
mournful and pathetic superstitions.
The Linnet pours forth the most
melancholy song of all Irish birds, and
I have seen honest-hearted peasants
affected by it to tears. On inquiry I
found the secret cause to be the belief
that its notes voiced the plaints of
some unhappy soul in the spirit land.
The changeless and interminable chant
of the Yellow Bunting is the subject of
a very singular superstition. Its notes,
begun each afternoon at the precise
hour of 3, are regarded as summons to
prayer for souls not yet relieved from
purgatorial penance. A variety of
Finch has notes which resemble what
is called the u Bride-groom's song" of
unutterable dolor for a lost bride — a
legend of superstition easily traceable
to the German Hartz mountain
peasantry; while in the solemn intensity
of the Bittern's sad and plaintive
boom, still a universally received token
of spirit-warning, can be recognized
the origin of the mournful cries of
the wailing Banshee.
132

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

BARTBAMIAN SANDPIPER.
% Life-size.

Copyright bv
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago,

THE BARTRAMIAN SANDPIPER.

rarely

tains.

middle

Illinois,

Dakotas

country,

HIS pretty shore bird, known
as Bartram's Tattler, is found
in more or less abundance all
over the United States, but is
seen west of the Rocky Moun-
It usually breeds from the
districts — Ohio, Indiana,
Iowa, Minnesota, and the
northward, into the fur
and in Alaska. It is very
numerous in the prairies of the interior,
and is also common eastward. It has
a variety of names, being called
Field Plover, Upland Plover, Grass
Plover, Prairie Pigeon, and Prairie
Snipe. It is one of the most familiar
birds on the dry, open prairies of
Manitoba, where it is known as the
" Quaily," from its soft, mellow note.
The bird is less aquatic than most of
the other Sandpipers, of which there

are about twenty-five species, and is
seldom seen along the banks of streams,
its favorite resorts being old pastures,
upland, stubble fields, and meadows,
where its nest may be found in a
rather deep depression in the ground,
with a few grass blades for lining.
The eggs are of a pale clay or buff,
thickly spotted with umber and
yellowish-brown ; usually four in
number.

The Sandpiper frequently alights on
trees or fences, like the Meadow Lark.
This species is far more abundant on
the plains of the Missouri river region
than in any other section of our
country. It is found on the high dry
plains anywhere, and when fat, as it
generally is, from the abundance of its
favorite food, the grasshopper, is one of
the most delicious imaginable.

MARSHALL SAUNDERS tells us that
in Scotland seven thousand children
were carefully trained in kindness to
each other and to dumb animals.

It is claimed that not one of these
in after years was ever tried for any
criminal offense in any court. How
does that argue for Immane education ?
Is not this heart training of our boys
and girls one which ought to claim
the deepest sympathy and most ready
support from us when we think of
what it means to our future civilization?
" A brutalized child," says this great-

hearted woman, "is a lost child."
And surely in permitting any act of
cruelty oil the part of our children,
we brutalize them, and as teachers and
parents are responsible for the result
of our neglect in failing to teach them
the golden rule of kindness to all of
God's creatures. It is said that out of
two thousand criminals examined
recently in American prisons, only
twelve admitted that they had been
kind to animals during youth. What
strength does that fact contain as an
argument for humane education ?

135

THE NIGHTINGALE.

You have heard so much
about the Nightingale that I am
sure you will be glad to see my
picture. I am not an American
bird ; I live in England, and am
considered the greatest of all
bird vocalists.

At midnight, when the woods
are still and everybody ought to
be asleep, I sing my best. Some
people keep awake on purpose
to hear me. One gentleman, a
poet, wept because my voice
sounded so melancholy. He
thought I leaned my breast up
against a thorn and poured forth
my melody in anguish. Another
wondered what music must be
provided for the angels in
heaven, when such music as mine
was given to men on earth.

All that sounds very pretty,
but between you and me, I'd
sing another tune if a thorn
should pierce my breast.

Indeed, I am such a little bird
that a big thorn would be the
death of me. No, indeed, I am
always very happy when I sing.
My mate wouldn't notice me at
all if I didn't pour out my feel-

ings in song, both day and night.
That is the only way I have to
tell her that I love her, and to
ask her if she loves me. When
she says u yes," then we go to
housekeeping, build a nest and
bring up a family of little Night-
ingales. As soon as the bird-
ies come out of their shell I lit-
erally change my tune.

In place of the lovely music
which everybody admires, I utter
only a croak, expressive of my
alarm and anxiety. Nobody
knows the trouble of bringing
up a family better than I do.
Sometimes my nest, which is
placed on or near the ground, is
destroyed with all the little
Nightingales in it ; then I re-
cover my voice and go to sing-
ing again, the same old song:
'*" I love you, I love you. Do you
love me ? "

Toward the end of summer we
leave England and return to our
winter home,way off in the inter-
ior of Africa. About the middle
of April we get back to England
again, the gentlemen Nightin-
gales arriving several days be-
fore the lady-birds. -

136

From coll. Mr F. Kaempfer.

NIGHTINGALE.
4/6 Life-size.

Copy rich t l>y

Nature study Putt. CV, 1S98, ('

THE NIGHTINGALE.

O doubt those who never hear
the song of the Nightingale
are denied a special privi-
lege. Keats' exquisite
verses give some notion
of it, and William Drummond, another
English poet, has sung sweetly of the
bird best known to fame. "Singer of
the night" is the literal translation of
its scientific name, although during
some weeks after its return from its
winter quarters in the interior of Africa
it exercises its remarkable vocal powers
at all hours of the day and night.
According to Newton, it is justly cele-
brated beyond all others by European
writers for the power of song. The
song itself is indiscribable, though
numerous attempts, from the time of
Aristophanes to the present, have been
made to express in syllables the sound
of its many notes; and its effects on
those who hear it is described as being
almost as varied as are its tones. To
some they suggest melancholy; and
many poets, referring to the bird in
the feminine gender, which cannot
sing at all, have described it as "lean-
ing its breast against a thorn and
pouring forth its melody in anguish."
Only the male bird sings. The poeti-
cal adoption of the female as the
singer, however, is accepted as impreg-
nable, as is the position of Jenny
Lind as the " Swedish Nightingale."
Newton says there is no reason to
suppose that the cause and intent of
the Nightingales' song, unsurpassed
though it be, differ in any respect from
those of other birds' songs; that sadness
is the least impelling sentiment that
can be properly assigned for his appar-
ently melancholy music. It may in
fact be an expression of joy such as we
fancy we interpret in the songs of
many other birds. The poem, however,
which we print on another page,
written by an old English poet, best
represents our own idea of the Nightin-

gale's matchless improvisation, as
some call it. It may be that it is
always the same song, yet those who
have often listened to it assert that it
is never precisely the same, that addi-
tional notes are introduced and the song
at times extended.

The Nightingale is usually regarded
as an English bird, and it is abundant
in many parts of the midland, eastern,
and western counties of England, and
the woods, coppices, and gardens ring
with its thrilling song. It is also found,
however, in large numbers in Spain
and Portugal and occurs in Austria,
upper Hungary, Persia, Arabia, and
Africa, where it is supposed to spend
its winters.

The markings of the male and female
are so nearly the same as to render the
sexes almost indistinguishable.

They cannot endure captivity, nine-
tenths of those caught dying within
a month. Occasionally a pair have
lived, where they were brought up by
hand, and have seemed contented,
singing the song of sadness or of joy.

The nest of the Nightingale is of a
rather uncommon kind, being placed on
or near the ground, the outworks con-
sisting of a great number of dead
leaves ingeniously put together. It
has a deep, cup-like hollow, neatly
lined with fibrous roots, but the whole
is so loosely constructed that a very
slight touch disturbs its beautiful
arrangement. There are laid from four
to six eggs of a deep olive color,

Towards the end of summer the
Nightingale disappears from England,
and as but little has been observed of
its habits in its winter retreats, which
are assumed to be in the interior of
Africa, little is known concerning
them.

It must be a wonderful song indeed
that could inspire the muse of great
poets as has that of the Nightingale.

THE BIRDS OF PARADISE.

HE far-distant islands of the
Malayan Archipelago, situated
in the South Pacific Ocean,
the country of the bird-
winged butterflies, princes of their
tribe, the " Orang Utan," or great
man-like ape, and peopled by Papuans
and Malays — islands whose shores are
bathed perpetually by a warm sea, and
whose surfaces are covered with a most
luxuriant tropical vegetation — these
are the home of a group of birds that
rank as the radiant gems of the
feathered race. None can excel the
nuptial dress of the males, either in
the vividness of their changeable and
rich plumage or the many strangely
modified and developed ornaments of
feather which adorn them.

The history of these birds is very
interesting. Before the year 1598 the
Malay traders called them " Manuk
dewata," or God's birds, while the
Portuguese, finding they had no wings
or feet, called them Passaros de sol, or
birds of the sun.

When the earliest European voyagers
reached the Moluccas in search of
cloves and nutmegs, which were then
rare and precious spices, they were
presented with dried skins of Birds so
strange and beautiful as to excite the
admiration even of these wealth-seek-
ing rovers. John Van Linschoten in
1598 calls them "Avis Paradiseus, or
Paradise birds," which name has been
applied to them down to the present
day. Van Linschoten tells us "that
no one has seen these birds alive, for
they live in the air, always turning
towards the sun, and never alighting
on the earth till they die." More than
a hundred years later, Funnel, who
accompanied Dam pier and wrote of the
voyage, saw specimens at Amboyna,
and was told that they came to Banda
to eat nutmegs, which intoxicated
them and made them fall down sense-
less, when they were killed by ants.

In 1760 Linnaeus named the largest
species Paradisea apoda (the footless
Paradise bird). At that time no per-
fect specimen had been seen in Europe,
and it was many years afterward when
it was discovered that the feet had been
cut off and buried at the foot of the tree
from which they were killed by the
superstitious natives as a propitiation to
the gods. Wallace, who was the first
scientific observer, writer, and collector
of thesd birds, and who spent eight
years on the islands studying their
natural history, speaks of the males of
the great Birds of Paradise assembling
together to dance on huge trees in the
forest, which have wide-spreading
branches and large but scattered
leaves, giving a clear space for the
birds to play and exhibit their plumes.
From twelve to twenty individuals
make up one of these parties. They
raise up their wings, stretch out their
necks and elevate their exquisite
plumes, keeping them in a continual
vibration. Between whiles they fly
across from branch to branch in great
excitement, so that the whole tree is
filled with waving plumes in every
variety of attitude and motion. The
natives take advantage of this habit
and climb up and build a blind or
hiding place in a tree that has been
frequented by the birds for dancing. In
the top of this blind is a small open-
ing, and before day-light, a native
with his bow and arrow, conceals him-
self, and when the birds assemble he
deftly shoots them with his blunt-
pointed arrows.

The great demand for the plumage
of Birds of Paradise for decorative
purposes is causing their destruction at
a rapid rate, and this caprice of a pass-
ing fashion will soon place one of
the most beautiful denizens of our
earth in the same category as the
great Auk and Dodo. — Cincinnati Com-
mercial- Gazette.

140

TO A NIGHTINGALE.

As it fell upon a day,

In the merry month of May,

Sitting in a pleasant shade,

Which a grove of myrtles made ;

Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,

Trees did grow, and plants did spring;

Everything did banish moan,

Save the nightingale alone.

She, poor bird, as all forlorn,

Leaned her breast up — till a thorn;

And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,

That to hear it was great pity.

Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry;

Teru, teru, by and by;

That, to hear her so complain,

Scarce I could from tears refrain;

For her griefs, so lively shewn,

Made me think upon mine own.

Ah ! — thought I — thou mourn'st in vain;

None takes pity on thy pain :

Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee ;

Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee ;

King Pandion, he is dead ;

All thy friends are lapped in lead ;

All thy fellow-birds do sing,

Careless of thy sorrowing!

— RICHARD BARNFIELD.

Old English Poet.

J4I

THE ROSEATE SPOONBILL.

PECIMENS of this bird
when seen for the first
time always excite wonder
and admiration. The
beautiful plumage, the
strange figure, and the curiously
shaped bill at once attract attention.
Formerly this Spoonbill was found as
far west as Illinois and specimens
were occasionally met with about
ponds in the Mississippi Bottoms,
below St. Louis. Its habitat is the
whole of tropical and subtropical
America, north regularly to the Gulf
coast of the United States.

Audubon observed that the Roseate
Spoonbill is to be met with along the
marshy or muddy borders of estuaries,
the mouths of rivers, on sea islands, or
keys partially overgrown with bushes,
and still more abundantly along the
shores of the salt-water bayous, so
common within a mile or two of the
shore. There it can reside and breed,
with almost complete security, in the
midst of an abundance of food. It is
said to be gregarious at all seasons,
and that seldom less than half a dozen
may be seen together, unless they have
been dispersed by a tempest. At the
approach of the breeding season these
small flocks come together, forming
immense collections, and resort to their
former nesting places, to which they
almost invariably return. The birds
moult late in May, and during this
time the young of the previous year
conceal themselves among the man-
groves, there spending the day, return-
ing at night to their feeding grounds,
but keeping apart from the old birds,
which last have passed through their

spring moult early in March. The
Spoonbill is said occasionally to rise
suddenly on the wing, and ascend
gradually in a spiral manner, to a great
height. It flies with its neck stretched
forward to its full length, its legs and
feet extended behind. It moves with
easy flappings, until just as it is about
to alight, when it sails over the spot
with expanded wing and comes
gradually to the ground.

Usually the Spoonbill is found in
the company of Herons, whose
vigilance apprises it of any danger.
Like those birds, it is nocturnal, its
principal feeding time being from near
sunset until daylight. In procuring
its food it wades into the water,
immerses its immense bill in the soft
mud, with the head, and even the
whole neck, beneath the surface, mov-
ing its partially opened mouth to and
fro, munching the small fry — insects
or shell-fish — before it swallows them.
Where many are together, one usually
acts as a sentinel. The Spoonbill can
alight on a tree and walk on the large
branches with much facility.

The nests of these birds are plat-
forms of sticks, built close to the trunks
of trees, from eight to eighteen feet
from the ground. Three or four eggs
are usually laid. The young, when
able to fly, are grayish white. In their
second year they are unadorned with
the curling feathers on the breast, but
in the third spring they are perfect.

Formerly very abandant, these
attractive creatures have greatly
diminished by the constant persecu-
tion of the plume hunters.

142

From col Chi. Acad Sciences.

ROSEATE SPOONBILL.
Yz Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

THE ROSEATE SPOONBILL.

If my nose and legs were not
so long, and my mouth such a
queer shape, I would be hand-
some, wouldn't I ? But my feath-
ers are fine, everybody admits
that — especially the ladies.

uHow lovely," they all ex-
claim, when they see one of us
Spoonbills. " Such a delicate,
delicate pink! " and off they go to
the milliners and order a hat
trimmed with our pretty plumes.

That is the reason so few of
us spoonbills are to be found in
certain localities now-a-days,
Florida especially. Fashion
has put most of us to death.
Shame, isn't it, when there are
silk, and ribbon, and flowers in
the world ?. Talk to your moth-
ers and sisters, boys, and plead
with them to let the birds alone.

We inhabit the warmer parts
of the world ; South and Central
America, Mexico, and the Gulf
regions of the United States.
We frequent the shores, both on
the sea coast and in the interior;
marshy, muddy ground is our
delight.

When I feel like eating some-
thing nice, out I wade into the
water, run my long bill, head
and neck, too, sometimes, into the
soft mud, move my bill to and
fro, and such a lot of small fry

as I do gather — insects and
shell fish — which I munch and
munch before I swallow.

I am called a "wader" for do-
ing this. My legs are not any
too long, you observe, for such
work. I am very thankful at
such' times that I don't wear
stockings or knickerbockers.

We are frisndly with Herons
and like to " ave cue or two of
them accompany us. They are
very vigilant fellows, we find,
and make good sentinels, warn-
ing us when danger approaches.

Fly? Oh, yes, of course we
do. With our neck stretched
forward and our legs and feet
extended behind, up we go grad-
ually in a spiral manner to a
great height.

In some countries, they say,
our beaks are scraped very thin,
polished, and used as a spoon,
sometimes set in silver. I
wonder if that is the reason we
are called Spoonbills?

The Spoonbills are sociable
birds; five or six of us generally
go about in company, and when
it comes time for us to raise fam-
ilies of little Spoonbills, we start
for our nesting place in great
flocks ; the same place where
our nests were built the year
before.

DICKCISSEL.

R. P. M. SILLOWAY, in
his charming sketches,
" Some Common Birds,"
writes : "The Car-
dinal frequently
whistles the most gaily while seated
in the summit of the bush which
shelters his mate on her nest. It is
thus with Dickcissel, for though his
ditties are not always eloquent to us,
he is brave in proclaiming his happi-
ness near the fountain of his inspira-
tion. • While his gentle mistress
patiently attends to her household in
some low bush or tussock near the
hedge, Dick flutters from perch to
perch in the immediate vicinity and
voices his love and devotion. Once I
flushed a female from a nest in the
top of an elm bush along a railroad
while Dick was proclaiming his name
from the top of a hedge within twenty
feet of the site. Even while she was
chirping anxiously about the spot,
apprehending that her home might be
harried by ruthless visitors, he was
brave and hopeful, and tried to sus-
tain her anxious mind by ringing forth
his cheerful exclamations."

Dick has a variety of names, the
Black -throated Bunting, Little Field
Lark, and "Judas-bird." In general
appearance it looks like the European
House Sparrow, averaging a trifle
larger.

The favorite resorts of this Bunting
are pastures with a sparse growth of
stunted bushes and clover fields. In
these places, its unmusical, monoton-
ous song may be heard thoughout the
day during the breeding season. Its
song is uttered from a tall weed, stump,

or fence-stake, and is a very pleasing
ditty, says Davie, when its sound is
heard coming far over grain fields and
meadows, in the blaze of the noon- day
sun, when all is hushed and most other
birds have retired to shadier places.

As a rule, the Dickcissels do not
begin to prepare for housekeeping
before the first of June, but in advanced
seasons the nests are made and the
eggs deposited before the end of May.
The nest is built on the ground, in
trees and in bushes, in tall grass, or in
clover fields. The materials are
leaves, grasses, rootlets, corn husks,
and weed sterns ; the lining is of fine
grasses, and often horse hair. It is a
compact structure. Second nests are
sometimes built in July or August.
The eggs number four or five, almost
exactly like those of the Bluebird.

The summer home of Dickcissel is
eastern United States, extending
northward to southern New England
and Ontario, and the states bordering
the great lakes. He ranges westward
to the edge of the great plains,
frequently to southeastern United
vStates on the migration. His winter
home is in tropical regions, extending
as far south as northern South
America. He is commonly regarded
as a Lark, but is really a Finch.

In the transactions of the Illinois
Horticultural Society, Prof. S. A.
Forbes reports that his investigations
show that sixty-eight per cent, of the
food of the Dickcissels renders them
beneficial to horticulture, seven per
cent, injurious, and twenty-five per
cent neutral, thus leaving a large
balance in their favor.

THOUGHTS.

Who knows the joy a flower knows

When it blows sweetly ?
Who knows the joy a bird knows

When it goes fleetly ?

Bird's wing and flower stem —

Break them, who would ?
Bird's wing and flower stem —

Make them, who could ?

— Harper's Weekly.

146

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

DICKCISSEL.
% Life size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

THE DICKCISSEL.

You little folks, I'm afraid,
who live or visit in the country
every summer, will not recognize
me when I am introduced to you
by the above name. You called
me the Little Field Lark, or
Little Meadow Lark, while all
the time, perched somewhere on
a fence-stake, or tall weed-
stump, I was telling you as plain
as I could what my name
really is.

"See, see," I said, "Dick, Dick
— Cissel, Cissel"

To tell you the truth I don't
belong to the Lark family at all.
Simply because I wear a yellow
vest and a black bow at my
throat as they do doesn't make
me a Lark. You can't judge
birds, anymore than people, by
their clothes. No, I belong to
the Finch, or Bunting family,
and they who call me the Slack-
throated Bunting are not far from
right.

I am one of the birds that go
south in winter. About the
first of April I get back from
the tropics and really I find
some relief in seeing the hedges
bare, and the trees just putting
on their summer dress. In truth

I don't care much for buds and
blossoms, as I only frequent the
trees that border the meadows
and cornfields. Clover fields
have a great attraction for me,
as well as the unbroken prairie.

I sing most of the time because
I am so happy. To be sure it is
about the same tune, "See, see, —
Dick, Dick — Cissel, Cissel" but as
it is about myself I sing I never
grow tired of it. Some people
do, however, and wish I would
stop some time during the day.
Even in the hottest noonday you
will see me perched on a fence-
stake or a tall weed-stalk singing
my little song, while my mate is
attending to her nest tucked
away somewhere in a clump of
weeds, or bush, very near the
ground.

There, I am sorry I told you
that. You may be a bad boy,
or a young collector, and will
search this summer for my nest,
and carry it and all the pretty
eggs away. Think how sorrow-
ful my mate would be, and I, no
longer happy, would cease to
sing, " See, See, - - Dick, Dick,
Cissel, Cissel.'1'1

149

THE DUSKY GROUSE.

-v- «

111

o ao

er> -J-

NDER various names, as Blue
Grouse, Grey Grouse, Moun-
tain Grouse, Pine Grouse,
and Fool-hen, this
species, which is one
of the finest birds of its family, is
geographically distributed chiefly
throughout the wooded and especially
the evergreen regions of the Rocky
Mountains to the Pacific and north-
ward into British America. In the
mountains of Colorado Grouse is
found on the border of timber line,
according to Davie, throughout the
year, going above in the fall for its
principal food — grasshoppers. In sum-
mer its flesh is said to be excellent,
but when frost has cut short its diet
of insects and berries it feeds on
spruce needles and its flesh acquires a
strong flavor. Its food and habits are
similar to those of the Ruffed Grouse.
Its food consists of insects and the
berries and seeds of the pine cone, the
leaves of the pines, and the buds of trees.
It has also the same habits of budding
in the trees during deep snows. In the
Blue Grouse, however, this habit of
remaining and feeding in the trees
is more decided and constant, and in
winter they will fly from tree to tree,
and often are plenty in the pines,
when not a track can be found in the
snow. It takes keen and practiced eyes
to find them in the thick branches of
the pines. They do not squat and lie
closely on a limb like a quail, but
stand up, perfectly still, and would
readily be taken for a knot or a broken
limb. If they move at all it is to take
flight, and with a sudden whir they
are away, and must be looked for in
in another tree top.

Hallock says that in common with
the Ruffed Grouse (see BIRDS, Vol. I,
p. 220), the packs have a habit of

scattering in winter, two or three, or
even a single bird, being often found
with no others in the vicinity, their
habit of feeding in the trees tending
to separate them.

The size of the Dusky Grouse is
nearly twice that of the Ruffec^Grouse,
a full-grown bird weighing from three
to four pounds. The feathers are very
thick, and it seems fitly dres,ced to
endure the vigor of its habitat, which
is in the Rocky Mountains and Sierra
Nevada country only, and in the pine
forests from five to ten thousand feet
above the level of the sea. The latter
height is generally about the snow
line in these regions. Although the
weather in the mountains is often
mild and pleasant in winter, and
especially healthy and agreeable from
the dryness and purity of the atmos-
phere, yet the cold is sometimes
intense.

Some years ago Mr. Hallock advised
that the acclimation of this beautiful
bird be tested in the pine forests of the
east. Though too wild and shy, he
said, to be domesticated, there is no
reason why it might not live and
thrive in any pine lands where the
Ruffed Grouse is found. Since the
mountain passes are becoming threaded
with railroads, and miners, herders,
and other settlers are scattering
through the country, it will be far
easier than it has been to secure and
transport live birds or their eggs, and
it is to be hoped the experiment will
be tried.

This Grouse nests on the ground,
often under shelter of a hollow log or
projecting rock, with merely a few pine
needles scratched together. From eight
to fifteen eggs are laid, of buff or cream
color, marked all over with round
spots of umber-brown.

150

APPLE BLOSSOM TIME.

The time of apple blooms has come again,
And drowsy winds are laden with perfume;

In village street, in grove and sheltered glen
The happy warblers set the air atune.

Each swaying motion of the bud-sweet trees
Scatters pale, fragrant petals everywhere ;

Reveals the tempting nectar cups to bees

That gild their thighs with pollen. Here and there

The cunning spoilers roam, and dream and sip

The honey- dew from chalices of gold ;
The brimming cups are drained from lip to lip

Till, cloyed with sweets, the tiny gauze wings fold.

Above the vine-wreathed porch the old trees bend,
Shaking their beauty down like drifted snow :

And as we gaze, the lovely blossoms send
Fair visions of the days of long ago.

Yes, apple blossom time has come again,
But still the breezes waft the perfumes old,

And everywhere in wood, and field, and glen
The same old life appears in lovelier mold.

— NORA A. PIPER.

153

LET US ALL PROTECT THE EGGS OF THE BIRDS.

-r-^1"^

LjUZABETH NUNEMACHER,

p^n in Our Animal Friends, writes

L thus of her observation

^ '• ^ of birds. Would that

her suggestions for their protection

might be heeded.

" Said that artist in literature,
Thomas Wentworth Higginson : ' I
think that, if required, on pain of
death to name instantly the most per-
fect thing in the universe, I would
risk my fate on a bird's egg ; . .
it is as if a pearl opened and an angel
sang.' But far from his beautiful
thought was the empty shell, the mere
shell of the collector. How can he
be a bird lover who, after rifling some
carefully tended nest, pierces the two
ends of one of these exquisite crusts of
winged melody, and murderously
blows one more atom of wings and song
into nothingness? The inanimate
shell, however lovely in color, what is
it? It is not an egg ; an egg compre-
hends the contents, the life within.
Aside from the worthlessness of such a
possession, each egg purloined means
we know not what depth of grief to
the parent, and a lost bird life; a
vacuum where song should be.

People who love birds and the study
of them prefer half an hour's personal
experience with a single bird to a
whole cabinet of " specimens." Yet a
scientist recently confessed that he had
slain something like four hundred and
seventy-five Redstarts, thus extermin-
ating the entire species from a consid-
able range of country, to verify the
fact of a slight variation in color. One
would infinitely prefer to see one Red-
start in the joy of life to all that scien-
tific lore could impart regarding the
entire family of Redstarts by such
wholesale butchery, which nothing
can excuse.

We hear complaints of the scarcity
of Bluebirds from year to year. I have
watched, at intervals since early April,
the nest of a single pair of Bluebirds
in an old apple tree. On April 29th
there were four young birds in the
nest. On May 4th they had flown ;
an addition was made to the dwelling,
and one egg of a second brood was
deposited. On May 3ist the nest
again held four young Bluebirds. June
1 5th saw this second quartette leave
the apple tree for the outer world, and
thinking surely that the little mother
had done, I appropriated the nest ; but
on June 25th I found a second nest
built, and one white egg, promising a
third brood. From the four laid this
time, either a collector or a Bluejay
deducted one, and on July I4th the
rest were just out of the shell. This
instance of the industry of one pair of
Bluebirds proves that their scarcity is
no fault of theirs. I may add that the
gentle mother suffered my frequent
visits and my meddling with her nur-
sery affairs without any show of anger
or excitement, uttering only soft mur-
murs, which indicated a certain
anxiety. May not the eleven young
Bluebirds mean a hundred next season,
and is not the possessor of the missing
egg guilty of a dozen small lives ?"

We have observed that the enthusi-
iasm of boys for collecting eggs is
frequently inspired by licensed "col-
lectors," who are known in a com-
munity to possess many rare and
valuable specimens. Too many nests
are despoiled for so-called scientific
purposes, and a limit should be set to
the number of eggs that may be taken
by any one for either private or public
institutions. Let us influence the boys
to "love the wood-rose, and leave it
on its stalk."

154

CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO., CHIC, i NEW YORK.

Copyrighted by

Nature Study Pub. Co., 1808, Chicago.

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.
1. Spotted Sandpiper. 2. Bartraraian Sandpiper. 3. Marbled Godwit. 4. King Rail. 5. American Coot.
6. Least Tern. 7. Sooty Tern. 8. Common Mm-re. 9. Black Tern. 10. Herring Gull.

THE NEW TENANTS.

BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.

Mrs. Wren, in a very contented
frame of mind, sat upon her nest,
waiting with an ever growing appetite
for that delicious spider or nice fat
canker worm which her mate had
promised to fetch her from the orchard.

"How happy I am," she mused,
" and how thankful I ought to be for
so loving a mate and such a dear,
little cozy home. Why, keeping house
and raising a family is just no trouble
at all. Indeed — " but here Mrs. Wren's
thoughts were broken in upon by the
arrival of Mrs. John, who announced,
as she perched upon the rim of the tin-
pot and looked disdainfully around,
that she had but a very few minutes
to stay.

" So this is the cozy nest your hus-
band is so fond of talking about," she
said, her bill in the air. " My, my,
whatever possessed you, my dear, to
begin housekeeping in such humble
quarters. Everything in this world
depends upon appearances ; the sooner
you find that out, Jenny, the better.
From the very first I was determined
to begin at the top. The highest pole
in the neighborhood, or none, I said to
Mr. John when he was looking for a
site on which to build our house ; and
to do him justice Mr. Wren never
thought of anything lower himself. A
tin-pot, indeed, under a porch. Dear,

dear ! " and Mrs. John's bill turned up,
and the corners of her mouth turned
down in a very haughty and disdain-
ful manner.

" I-didn't-know, I'm-sure," faltered
poor little Mrs. Jenny, her feathers
drooping at once. " I-thought our
little house, or flat, was very nice and
comfortable. It is in an excellent
neighborhood, and our landlord's
family is — "

" Oh, bother your landlord's family,"
interrupted Mrs. John impolitely.
" All your neighbors are tired and sick
of hearing Mr. Wren talk about his
landlord's family. The way he repeats
their sayings and doings is nauseating,
and as for naming your brood after
them, why—" Mrs. John shrugged her
wings and laughed scornfully.

Mrs. Wren's head feathers rose at
once, but experience had taught her
the folly of quarreling with her aunt,
so she turned the subject by inquiring
solicitously after her ladyship's health.

" Oh, its only fair, fair to middliu', "
returned Mrs. John, poking her bill
about the edge of the nest as though
examining its lining. " I told Mr.
John this morning that I would be but
a shadow of myself after fourteen days
brooding, if he was like the other
gentlemen Wrens in the neighbor-
hood. Catch me sitting the day

through listening to him singing or
showing off for my benefit No,
indeed ! He is on the nest now, keep-
ing the eggs warm, and I told him not
to dare leave it till my return."

Mrs. Jenny said nothing, but she
thought what her dear papa would
have done under like circumstances.

" All work and no play," continued
Mrs. John, " makes dull women as well
as dull boys. That was what my
mama said when she found out papa
meant her to do all the work while he
did the playing and singing. Dear,
dear, how many times I have seen her
box his ears and drive him onto the
nest while she went out visiting," and
at the very recollection Mrs. John flirted
her tail over her back and laughed
loudly.

"How many eggs are you sitting
upon this season, Aunt? " inquired Mrs.
Jenny, timidly.

" Eight. Last year I . hatched out
nine ; as pretty a brood as you would
want to see. If I had time, Jenny, I'd
tell you all about it. How many eggs
are under you ? "

" Six," meekly said Jenny, who had
heard about that brood scores of
times, " we thought — we thought — "

" Well ?" impatiently, "you thought
what ? "

" That six would be about as many
as we could well take care of. I am
sure it will keep us both busy finding
worms and insects for even that num-
ber of mouths."

" I should think it would " chuckled
Mrs. John, nodding her head wisely,
"but — " examining a feather which
she had drawn out of the nest with
her bill, "what is this? A chicken
feather, as I live ; a big, coarse,

chicken feather. And straw too,
instead of hay. Ah ! little did I think
a niece of mine would ever furnish
her house in such a shabby manner,"
and Mrs. John, whose nest was lined
with horse-hair, and the downiest
geese feathers which her mate could
procure, very nearly turned green with
shame and mortification.

Mrs. Jenny's head-featners were
bristling up again when she gladly
espied Mr. Wren flying homeward with
a fine wriggling worm in his bill.

"Ah, here comes your hubby,"
remarked Mrs. John, "he's been to
market, I see. Well, ta, ta, dear. Run
over soon to see us," and off Mrs. John
flew to discuss Mrs. Jenny's house-
keeping arrangements with one of her
neighbors.

Mr. Wren's songs and antics failed
to draw a smile from his mate the
remainder of that day. Upon her
nest she sat and brooded, not only her
eggs> but over the criticisms and
taunts of Mrs. John. Straw, chicken-
feathers, and old tin pots occupied her
thoughts to the exclusion of every-
thing else, and it was not without a
feeling of shame she recalled her
morning's happiness and spirit of
sweet content. The western sky was
still blushing under the fiery gaze of
the sun, when Mrs. Jenny fell into a
doze and dreamed that she, the very
next day, repaid Mrs. John Wren's
call. The wind was blowing a hurri-
cane and the pole on which Mrs.
John's fine house stood, shook and
shivered till Mrs. Jenny looked every
minute for pole and nest and eggs to
go crashing to the ground.

" My home," thought she, trembling
with fear, "though humble, is built

158

upon a sure foundation. Love makes
her home there, too. Dear little tin-
pot ! Chicken feathers or straw, what
does it matter ? " and home Mrs. Jenny
hastened, very thankful in her dream
for the protecting walls, and over-
hanging porch, as well as the feeling
of security afforded by her sympathetic
human neighbors.

The fourteen days in truth did seem
very long to Mrs. Wren, but cheered
by her mate's love songs and an
occasional outing — all her persuasions
could not induce Mr. Wren to brood
the eggs in her absence — it wasn't a
man's work, he said — the time at.
length passed, and the day came when
a tiny yellow beak thrust itself through
the shell, and in a few hours, to the
parents delight, a little baby Wren
was born.

Mr. Wren was so overcome with joy
that off he flew to the nearest tree, and
with drooping tail and wings shaking
at his side, announced, in a gush of
song, to the entire neighborhood the
fact that he was a papa.

"A pa-pa, is it?" exclaimed Bridget,
attracted by the bird's manner to
approach the nest. " From watchin'
these little crathers it do same I'm
afther understandin' bird talk and bird-
ways most like the misthress herself,"
and with one big red finger she gently
pushed the angry Mrs. Wren aside and
took a peep at the new born bird.

" Howly mither ! " said she, retreat-
ing in deep disgust, "ov all the skinny,
ugly little bastes ! Shure and its all
head and no tail, with niver a feather
to kiver its nakedness. It's shamed
I'd be, Mr. Wren, to father an ugly
crather loike that, so I would," and
Bridget, who had an idea that young

birds came into the world prepared at
once to fly, shook her head sadly, and
went into the house to inform the
family of the event.

One by one the children peeped
into the nest and all agreed with
Bridget that it was indeed a very ugly
little birdling which lay there.

" Wish I could take it out, mama,"
said Dorothy, " and put some of my
doll's clothes on it. It is such a
shivery looking little thing."

"Ugh!" exclaimed Walter, "what
are those big balls covered with skin
on each side of its head ; and when
will it look like a bird, mama?"

" Those balls are its eyes," she
laughingly replied, " which will open
in about five days. The third day
you will perceive a slate-colored down
or fuzz upon its head. On the fourth
its wing feathers will begin to show.
On the seventh the fuzz will become
red-brown feathers on its back and
white upon its breast. The ninth day
it will fly a little way, and on the
twelfth will leave its nest for good."

" An' its a foine scholard ye's are, to
be shure, mum," said Bridget in open-
mouthed admiration. " Whoiver 'ud
hev thought a mite ov a crather loike
that 'ud be afther makin' so interes-
thing a study. Foreninst next spring,
God willin,' she added, " its meself,
Bridget O'Flaherty, as will be one ov
them same."

" One of them same what ?" inquired
her mistress laughingly.

" Horn-ith-owl-ogists, mum," replied
Bridget, not without much difficulty,
and with a flourish of her fine red arms
and a triumphant smile upon her
round face, Bridget returned to her
kitchen and work again.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

159

SUMMARY.

Page 126.

OVENBIRD— Seiurus aurocapellus. Other
names: "The Teacher," " Wood Wagtail,"
" Golden Crowned Accentor."

RANGE— United States to Pacific Slope.

NEST — On the ground, oven-shape.

EGGS — Three to six, white or creamy white,
glossy, spotted.

Page 130.
ARCTIC THREE-TOED WOODPECKER

— Picoides arcticus. Other name: "Black-
backed Three-toed Woodpecker."

RANGE — Northern North America, south to
northern border of the United States, and
farther on high mountain ranges. In the
mountains of the west (Sierra Nevada, etc.)
south to about 39°, where it breeds.

NEST — In dead trees, not more than five or
six feet from the ground.

EGGS— Four to six, pure ivory white.

Page 134.

BARTRAMIAN SANDPIPER— Bartramia
longicauda. Other names: "Bartram's
Tattler," "Prairie Pigeon," "Prairie Snipe,"
' Grass Plover," and ' Quaily."

RANGE— Eastern North America, north to
Nova Scotia and Alaska, south in winter as far
as southern South America.

NEST — In a slight depression of the ground.

EGGS — Four, of a pale clay or buff, thickly
spotted with umber and yellowish brown.

Page 138.

NIGHTINGALE— Motacilla luscinia (Linn.)
RANGE — England, Spain, Portugal, Austria,

south to the interior of Africa.

NEST — Cup shape, made of dry leaves,
neatly lined with fibrous roots.
EGGS— Four to six, of a deep olive color.

Page 143.

ROSEATE SPOONBILL— Ajaja ajaja.

RANGE — Southern United States and south-
ward into southern South America.

NEST — Platform of sticks, built close to the
trunk of a tree, from eight to eighteen feet
from the ground.

EGGS — Three or four, white, or buffy-white,
blotched, spotted, and stained with various
shades of brown.

Page 147.

DICKCISSEL— Spiza americana. Other
names: " Black-throated Bunting," "Little
Field Lark," and "Judas-bird."

RANGE — Eastern United States to the Rocky
Mountains, north to Massachusetts, New York,
Wisconsin, Minnesota, etc., south in winter to
northern South America.

NEST — On the ground, in trees, and in
bushes.

EGGS — Four or five, almost exactly like those
of the Bluebird.

Page 151.

DUSKY GROUSE— Dendragapus obscurus.

RANGE — Rocky Mountains, west to Wah-
satch, north to central Montana, south to New
Mexico and Arizona.

NEST — On the ground, under shelter of a
hollow log or projecting rock, with merely a
a few pine needles scratched together.

EGGS — Eight to fifteen, of buff or cream
color, marked all over with small round spots
of umber-brown.

160

VOL. III.

BIRDS.

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

MAY, 1898.

NQ. 5.

COLOR IN MUSIC

" No ladder needs the bird, but skies

To situate its wings,
Nor any leader's grim baton

Arraigns it as it sings.
The implements of bliss are few —

As Jesus says of Him,
' Come unto me, ' the moiety
That wafts the cherubim."

— EMII,Y DICKINSON.

H, Music ! voice inspired of
all our joys and sorrows, of
all our hopes and disappoint-
ments, to thee we turn for
life, for strength and peace.
The choristers of Nature — the birds —
are our teachers. How free, how
vital, how unconstrained! The bird
drops into song and delicious tones as
easily as he drops from the bough
through the air to the twig or ground.
To learn of the bird has been found to
be a truthful means whereby children's
attention and interest may be held
long enough to absorb the sense of
intervals in pitch, notation on the
staff, and rythms.

In teaching a child, it is obvious that
the desire to learn must be kept
widely awake, and heretofore black
notes on five lines and four spaces,
with heiroglyphics at the beginning
to denote clef, and figures to indicate
the rhythm of the notes, have never
interested children. But now, color
and the bird with its egg for a note,
telegraph wires for the staff, and
swinging the pulsing rhythm instead
of beating the time, has charmed
children into accomplishment of sight
singing and sweet purity of tone.
Formerly, and by the old method,

this was a long and laborious task,
barely tolerated by the musical child
and disliked by the little soul unawak-
ened thereby to its own silent music.

It may be questioned, what is the
new method, and what its value? The
method is this : In recognizing tone,
the finer and more sensitive musician
has realized that certain intervals of
scale suggested to their minds or
reminded them of certain colors. Thus
the Doh, the opening and closing tone
of the scale, the foundation and cap
stone, suggested Red, which is the
strong, firm color of colors, and on the
ethical side suggested Love, which is
the beginning and end, the Alpha and
Omega of Life. This firmness and
strength is easy to recognize in the
tune "America," where the tonic Doh
is so insistent, and colors the whole
melody "The Star-Spangled Banner"
and "Hail Columbia" are other strong
examples.

The Dominant or fifth tone in the
scale is clear and pure, which the blue
of heaven represents, and so also the
quality of aspiration or exaltation is
sounded. This is joyously clear in
the Palestrina "Victory," set to the
Easter hymn, " The strife is o'er the
battle done."

161

The Mediant or third of the scale is
peaceful and calm, and the color
Yellow is suggested, with its vital,
radiating, sunshiny warmth and coin-
fort. The "O, rest in the Lord " from
" Elijah " exemplifies this quality of
restful and peaceful assurance. Of the
tones of the Dominant chord besides
the Soh which we have considered,
the Ti or seventh interval is full of
irresolution and unrest, crying for
completion in the strong and resolute
Doh. This unrest and yearning
suggest the mixed color Magenta. The
quality is expressed in bits of an old
English song entitled "Too Late."
The insistency of the seventh is felt in
the strong measures with the words,
" oh let us in, oh, let us in."

The Ray or second of the scale
which completes the Dominant chord
is rousing and expectant — quite in
contrast to the eagerness and dispair of
the seventh. This second is repre-
sented by orange, the mixture of red
and yellow between which it stands
being equally related to both, with
the expectancy born of trust and rest
which the Mediant expresses, and the
rousing hopefulness which is the out-
come of the firm strength and convic-
tion of the Doh. As a musical exam-
ple take Pleyel's hymn set to the
words: "Children of the Heavenly
King." In the remaining tones of
the sub-dominant chord Fah and
Lah, we find Fah the fourth has
a distinctively leaning tendency, a
solemnity which calls forth the direct
opposite of the seventh or Ti which
yearns upward and cannot be other-
wise satisfied, while Fah is a down-
ward leaning, a protective and even-
solemnly grand, dependent tone. We
hear this in the dead march in " Saul,"
and the almost stern reproach in the
two measures of " Too late, too late,
ye cannot enter now." Fan's tonal
qualities suggest the protective green.

Lab, or the sixth tone is expres-

ive of tender sympathy, and unlike
Fah, is a variable tone which may
turn upward or downward for rest. It
is found prominently in Minor music
and is represented by the half mourn-
ing color of lavender or violet. " By
the sad sea- waves " is a good illustra-
tion of this gentle wail.

While these emotional effects are
certainly true, it may be well to re-
mind the reader that when modulation
comes in, the character of the tones is
necessarily changed ; just as the ap-
pearance and impression of an individ-
ual will be modified and altered by
change of surroundings. Consequently
these effects are strong only in the
pure unmodulated key.

In awakening the musical sensibil-
ity of the child, we are rescuing it from
probable loss of appreciation for the
noble, and true, and fine. This loss is
shown by such as are pleased with the
trash of the " popular " tunes of a
day — tunes which express nothing
worthy of the great gift of expression.
Music is life in all its moods and
tenses, but we should be sensitive only
to that which is the expression of the
best and most helpful.

Through the many percepts of sight
of the birds which represent the inter-
vals of the scale, of touch in pasting
the little colored discs on the staff, of
ear in singing the tones of the Doh
bird, the Me bird, the Soh bird, etc.,
the child finds the symbols and
mechanics of musical notation entranc-
ing instead of tedious.

In teaching the rythms and value of
notes the imagination is called upon
in marking off rooms instead of meas-
ures, and putting one or more bird
eggs into them, naming them with the
time names and swinging the rythm
with a snap-tape measure.

AGNES STEWART,

In charge of classes in Color Music and assist-
ant teacher of Voice in The Mrs. John Vance
Cheney School, Steinway Hall, Chicago.

162

CONTENTMENT.

NCE on a time an old red hen
Went strutting around with pompous clucks,
For she had little babies ten,
A part of which were tiny ducks ;
" 'Ti's very rare that hens," said she,
" Have baby ducks, as well as chicks ;
But I possess, as you can see,

Of chickens four and ducklings six !"

A season later, this old hen

Appeared, still cackling of her luck,
For though she boasted babies ten,

Not one among them was a duck !
" 'Tis well," she murmured, brooding o'er

The little chicks of fleecy down,
" My babies now will stay ashore,

And, consequently, cannot drown !"

The following spring the old red hen
Clucked just as proudly as of yore ;
But lo ! her babies were ducklings ten,

Instead of chickens, as before !
" 'Tis better," said the old red hen,

As she surveyed her waddling brood,
" A little water, now and then,

Will surely do my darlings good !"

But, oh ! alas, how very sad !

When gentle spring rolled round again,
The eggs eventuated bad,

And childless was the old red hen !
Yet, patiently she bore her woe,

And still she wore a cheerful air,
And said : " 'Tis best these things are so,

For babies are a dreadful care ! "

I half suspect that many men,

And many, many women too,
Could learn a lesson from the hen,

With foliage of vermilion hue.
She ne'er presumed to take offence

At any fate that might befall,
But meekly bowed to Providence. —

She was contented — that was all !

— Eugene Field.

163

THE FASCINATION OF BIRD STUDY.

HEN one knows six birds
by sight or sound, it has
been, said, he is lost.
After that he cannot rest
until he knows fifty, or a hundred, or
two hundred — in his back-door yard,
or down in the orchard, or across the
farm. It is not easy to explain where-
in lies the fascination of " naming
the birds without a gun." The
humility of the scoffer, caught un-
awares, and taught his first six before
he knows it, is something pathetic and
instructive. Few mortals are proof
against the charm — when once the
first half-dozen are conquered. The
first three come easy. Most of us
know the Crow — and the Robin — and
the Bluebird — and — and — the Sparrow
— until we discover that there are
more than a dozen varieties of Sparrow,
and perceive that this common brown
bird, hopping so cheerily in and out
of the bushes, may be a Song Sparrow
or a Chipping Sparrow or a White-
Throated or White-Crowned or any
one of the dozen — or even the Cocky
English Sparrow, despised by ornithol-
igist and tyro alike. When to the.
Crow and Robin and Bluebird one has
added the Blackbird — both the Keel-
tailed and the Redwing — and the
Meadow Lark or the Highhole, the
charm begins to work. Armed with
opera-glass and bird book, the victim
casts convention to the winds. He
stands in the full glare of the public
highway, his glass focused on an
invisible spot, an object of ridicule to
men and dogs. He crawls on his
hands and knees through underbrush,
under barbed fences and over stone
walls. He sits by the hour waiting
for a Vireo to come down from the

topmost branch within range of his
glass. He forgets luncheon and
engagements. And what does he
bring home ? Certainly not the river
and sky, and seldom even a feather.

Books on birds, continues the Boston
Evening Transcript, like good wine,
need no bush at this season of the
year ; the Golden -winged Woodpecker
drums announcement on every limb ;
the Redwing Blackbird gurgles and
chuckles and calls across the swamp ;
and the Lesser Sparrows and Bluebirds
and Robins wake the morning to the
weaving of new song. The hand
reaches out for the familiar bird-book ;
that last note was a strange one. It is
a new bird — or merely one forgotten ?
The delight begins all over with the
first Bluebird's call, "a mere wander-
ing voice in the air."

"The Department of Agriculture,"
Miss Merriam tells us, in her new
book, " Birds of Village and Field,"
" realizing the losses that often result
from the ignorant sacrifice of useful
birds, constituted the Division of
Ornithology, now a part of the
Biological Survey, a court of appeal
where accusations against the birds
could be received and investigated.
The method used by the division is the
final one — the examination of stomach
contents to prove the actual food of
the birds. After the examination of
about eighty birds, the only one
actually condemned to death is the
English Sparrow. Of all the accused
Hawks, only three have been found
guilty of the charges made against
them — the Goshawk, Cooper's, and the
Sharp-Shinned — while the rest are
numbered among the best friends of
the fruit-grower and farmer. "

164

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

SOUTH AMERICAN RHEA.
ys Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898. Chicago.]

THE OSTRICH.

OUTH AMERICAN Rhea
is the name by which
this immense bird is
known to science. It is a
native of South America,
and is especially numerous along the
river Plata. Usually seen in pairs, it
sometimes associates in flocks of twenty
or thirty, and even more have been
seen together. Like all the members
of the family, it is a s"wift-footed and
wary bird, but possesses so little
presence of mind that it becomes
confused when threatened with danger,
runs aimlessly first in one direction
and then in another, thus giving time
for the hunter to come up and shoot
it, or bring it to the ground with his
bolas — a terrible weapon, consisting of
a cord with a heavy ball at each end,
which is flung at the bird, and winds
around its neck and legs so as to
entangle it.

For our knowledge of the Rhea and
its habits, we are chiefly indebted to
Mr. Darwin, and we shall use his
language in this account of the bird.
He says it is found also in Paraguay,
but is not common. The birds
generally prefer running against the
wind, yet, at the instant, they expand
their wings and, like a vessel, make
all sail. " On one fine hot day I saw
several Ostriches enter a bed of tall
rocks, where they squatted concealed
till nearly approached."

It is not generally known that
Ostriches readily take to the water.
Mr. King says that at Patagonia and
at Pont Valdez he saw these birds
swimming several times from island to
island. They ran into the water both
when driven down to a point, and like-
wise of their own accord, when not
frightened.

Natives readily distinguish, even at a
distance, the male bird from the female.
The former is larger and darker colored,
and has a larger head. It emits a sing-
ular deep-toned hissiifg note. Darwin,

when he first heard it, thought it was
made by some wild beast. It is such a
sound that one cannot tell whence it
comes, nor from how far distant.

" When we were at Bahia Blanca,
in the months of September and
October, the eggs of the Rhea were
found in extraordinary numbers all
over the country. They either lie
scattered singly, in which case they
are never hatched, or they are collected
together into a hollow excavation
which forms the nest. Out of the four
nests which I saw, three contained
twenty-two eggs each, and the fourth
twenty -seven. The Gauchos unanim-
ously affirm, and there is no reason to
doubt their statement, that the male
bird alone hatches the eggs, and that
he for some time afterward, accom-
panies the young. The cock while in
the nest lies very close ; I have myself
almost ridden over one. It is asserted
that at such times they are occasionally
fierce, and even dangerous, and that
they have been known to attack a man
on horseback, trying to kick and leap
on him."

The skylight in the roof of the
apartment in which two Ostriches
were kept in the Garden of Plants,
Paris, having been broken, the glaziers
were sent to repair it, and in the
course of their work let fall a piece of
glass. Not long after this the female
Ostrich was taken ill, and died after
an hour or two in great agony. The
body was opened, and the throat and
stomach were found to have been
dreadfully cut by the.sharp corners of
the glass which she 'had swallowed.
From the moment his companion
died the male bird had no rest ; he
appeared to be continually searching'
for something, and daily wasted away.
He was removed from the spot, in the
hope that he would forget his grief; he
was even allowed more liberty, but in
vain, and at length he mourned himself
to death.

167

THE SOUTH AMERICAN RHEA.

I neecTnt tell you I'm an
Ostrich, for my picture speaks
for itself. I'm a native of South
America, but members of my
family have been caught and
taken to the United States, so
you have seen some of them,
probably, in a uZoo."

We are swift-footed and
wary birds, but unfortunately
have no presence of mind, so
that when danger threatens us
we become confused, run this
way and that way, till the hunter
comes up and with gun or
ubolas" brings us to the ground.

If your legs and neck were as
long as mine, and an Indian
should fling around you a cord
with a ball at each end and
get your legs all tangled up,
wouldn't you tumble to the
ground, too ? Of course you
would. That is the way they
catch us with a ubolas."

I think we ought to be called
"ship of the desert" as well as
the camel, for when the wind
blows, we expand our great
wings, and running against it,
like a vessel under full sail, go
skimming along, happy as a
bird, in truth.

You can never see us do that
unless you come to South
America. In captivity we act
differently, you know. Maybe
you have seen us, when in an

inclosure, holding our wings
from our bodies and running up
and down as though we were
being chased, appearing greatly
alarmed. Well, that is all fun.
We have to do something to
while the time away. Then, too,
that is as near as we can come
to "sailing" as we did when wild
and free.

You have heard so much about
the mother-bird sitting on the
nest, that I am sure you will be
interested in seeing a father who
broods the eggs and hatches out
the little ones. I have five wives.
They all lay their eggs in one
and the same nest, which is a
hollow pit scraped out by their
feet, the earth heaped up around
to form a sort of wall. They lay
the eggs, I have said, sometimes
thirty in a nest, and I — well, I
do the rest.

We are dangerous fellows if
disturbed when brooding; have
been known to attack a man on
horseback, trying to kick and
leap on him. Our kick is no
love-tap, let me tell you, but
being so powerful we can easily
kill a man.

When startled, or angry, we
utter a kind of grunt as a warn-
ing; if it is not heeded, we then
hiss sharply, draw back our
head, and get ready to strike.

1 68

crom col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

BAY BREASTED WARBLER.
Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co.. 18!)8, Chicago

THE BAY-BREASTED WARBLER,

BOUT sixty species of Warb-
lers are known to ornitholo-
gists, no one of which can
be considered a great
singer, but their several
twitterings have a small family re-
semblance. The Bay-breasted, which
is also popularly called Autumnal
Warbler, breeds from northern New
England and northern Michigan north-
ward, its nest being found in low,
swampy woods, where there is a
mixture of evergreens, oak, birch, elm
and other trees. It is compact, cup-
shaped, and usually placed in coniferous
trees from five to fifteen or even twenty
feet above the ground. Fine shreds
of bark, small twigs, fibrous roots, and
pine hair are used in its construction.
Four eggs are laid, which are white,
with a bluish tinge, finely speckled on
or round the larger end with reddish-
brown.

Comparatively little is known of the
habits of this species. It passes in
spring and fall, on its way to the
north, being sometimes abundant at
both seasons, but does not tarry long.
In general habits, at all times, it
closely resembles other species of the
genus. In Oxford County, Maine,
says Mr. Maynard, these birds are
found in. all the wooded sections of
that region, where they frequent the

tops of tall trees. The species seems
to be confined during the building
season to the region just north of the
•White Mountains range.

Ridgway says: "Tanagers are splen-
did ; Humming-birds are refulgent ;
other kinds are brilliant, gaudy or
magnificent, but Warblers alone are
pretty in the proper and full sense of
that term. When the apple trees
bloom, the Warblers revel among the
flowers, vieing in activity and in num-
ber with the bees; now probing the
recesses of a blossom for an insect
which has effected lodgment there,
then darting to another, where, poised
daintily upon a slender twig, or sus-
pended from it, he explores hastily but
carefully for another morsel. Every
movement is the personification of
nervous activity, as if the time for
their journey was short ; and, indeed,
such appears to be the case, for two
or three days at most suffice some
species in a single locality ; a day
spent in gleaning through the woods
and orchards of one neighborhood,
with occasional brief siestas among the
leafy bowers, then the following night
in continuous flight toward its northern
destination, is probably the history of
every individual of the moving
throng."

" Have you walked beneath the blossoms in. the spring?

In the spring?

Beneath the apple blossoms in the spring ?

When the pink cascades are falling,

And the silver brooklets bawling,

And the Warbler bird soft calling,

In the spring?"

171

BIRD SUPERSTITIONS AND WINGED PORTENTS.

HE superstitions of the peasant
folk of any country are not
only interesting with thought,
" feeling, and belief, says an
intelligent writer, but. through them
much of the inner history of a people
can often be traced. Ireland is
peculiarly rich in these forgivable
vagaries about birds. They often
seem of a very savage and grewsome
character, but as we come to know
that however grim-visaged the face
of one confiding the weird assertion of
uncanny belief, that secretly the
masses of the peasantry scout and
flout them all, save those of a tender
and winsome character, we become
reconciled to it. Thus the quaint
and weird things which might
seem unaccountable and often re-
pulsive to us, have become, in lieu
of book lore, a folk and fireside lore,
out of which endless entertainment is
secured ; and underneath much of this
there is a deep and earnest tenderness,
such as all hearts know, for many
things without apparent reason, that
grow into life and ancestry, oft repeated
homeside tale, beloved custom and
that mysterious hallowing which comes
upon changeless places and objects
to men.

Here are a few bird superstitions :
If an Osprey be shot along any coast,
all the herring and mackerel will
immediately disappear. If the Hen-
harrier, which only hunts by twilight,
is missed from its accustomed raptorial
haunt, some evil spirit is said to be
hovering about the locality. When
Water-ousels appear in the spring
time in unusual numbers in any un-
frequented locality, it is a sign of
abundance of fresh-water fish, but also
a token of the approach of malignant
disease. On the west coast in the
early spring the poor fisherman watches
early and late for the Gannet. He calls
it the Solan, or Swift-flying Goose. If

it does not come his heart sinks, for
there will be no luck at fishing ; but
if great numbers wheel about the
headlands of the coast, plenty will
smile in his cabin home that year.
Great numbers of Jay or Missel
Thrushes feeding upon the berries of
the hawthorn betoken the approach of
a very cold winter, and their Grackle-
like calls bring fear to the heart if the
meal be low and the peat be scant in
the little tenants cabin. When the
nest of the Thrush or Mavis is built
unusually high in the thorn-bush, this
betokens a great calamity to a neigh-
borhood, for some distressing disturb-
ance is under way among the fairies,
who in happy or friendly mood always
see to it that these nests are built near
their haunts in the grasses, that they
may more readily enjoy the music of
the thrush's songs. The crops of
sweet singing Blackbirds are supposed
to hold the souls of those in purgatory
until the judgment day ; and when-
ever the Blackbird's notes are partic-
ularly shrill, these parched and burn-
ing souls are imploring for rain, which
never fails of coming in response to
the bird cries for their relief. The
Wicklow mountains are notably the
haunts of the Ring-Ousel or Mountain
Stars. Whenever, after singing his
fine deep song, he hesitates for a time,
and then is heard to utter a loud,
shrill and prolonged whistle, that
night every human that has heard it will
remain behind barred doors ; for that
is a true fairy call, and the " wea folk
of Wicklow ' ' are sure to congregate
in the mooonlit mountain hollows and
"dance rings round their swate selves"
until dawn. Of course none of these dire
calamities ever occur, but the simple-
minded folk continue to have faith in
them, and the innocent birds remain
the supposed precursors of the, to them,
mysterious misinterpreted operations
of nature.

172

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

BLACK -NECKED STILT.
y2 Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

THE BLACK-NECKED STILT.

TILT would be a peculiarly
appropriate name for this
bird, with its excessively
long legs, were it less
graceful and dignified in
its walk, moving on land with easy
and measured tread, not in a " tremul-
ous manner," says Col. Goss, as stated
by some writers.

The Stilt is an inhabitant of
temperate North America, from New
Brunswick, Maine, Minnesota and
Oregon southward ; south in winter to
Peru, Brazil, and West Indies. It is
rare in the middle and western
provinces, except Florida, also along
the Pacific coast ; breeding in suitable
localities and in abundance in western
Texas, southern Colorado, Utah,
eastern Colorado, and southern Oregon.
Extensive as is the range of the Stilt,
we wonder how many of our readers
have ever had the pleasure of seeing
even a picture of one. The specimen
depicted in BIRDS is regarded by
experts as about as nearly perfect as
art can produce. It will be observed
that the eyes are alive in expression,
as, indeed, are those of all our speci-
mens that have appeare in recent
numbers.

This slender wader inhabits the
shores of bays, ponds, and swales where
scantily covered with short grasses. It
swims buoyantly and gracefully, and on
land runs swiftly, with partially raised
wings, readily tacking or stopping in
its chase after insect life. Its flight,
says Goss, is not very swift, but
strong and steady, with sweeping
strokes, legs fully extended and head
partially drawn back, after the manner
of the Avocet, (see BIRDS, Vol. II, p.
15), and like the latter, will often
meet one a long distance from its nest,
scolding and threatening. At such
times its legs are as fully extended as
its legs, the latter often dangling as it
retreats.

The food of the Black-necked Stilt
consists of insects, minute shell fish
and larvae, and various small forms of
life. The birds are social, usually
living an'd breeding in small flocks.

The nests of these birds — when placed
on dry, sandy land — are slight depres-
sions worked out to fit the body ; on
wet lands they are upon bunches or
masses of vegetation. Eggs three or
four, buff to brownish-olive, irregularly
but rather thickly splashed and spotted
with blackish brown.

THE ENGLISH SPARROW.

WHEN the English Sparrow (see
BIRDS, Vol. II, p. 208), was first intro-
duced into Canada, we are informed
by Mr. Albert Webber, the city of
Hamilton provided for its protection
by causing to be erected a large iron
pole, on which was set a huge box
containing many apartments, the pole
surrounded by a circular iron railing.
Each day during the winter a sheaf of
oats was attached to the pole. In a
year or two the Sparrows became so
numerous that the authorities were
obliged to abandon the project of con-
tributing to the support of the birds

and left them to shift for themselves.
They soon found, however, that the
little foreigners were quite independent
of the city fathers.

Indefatigable, persistent, industrious
breeders — at once rebuilding their
nests, if destroyed by accident or other-
wise— there is little hope of their
extermination, if such action should
be desired in the future. Mr. Thomas
Goodearl, an observer of these birds in
their nativity, predicts that the English
Sparrow will be the survivor — though
not the fittest — of all English birds.

C. C. M.

175

PIN-TIAL DUCK.

It was my cousin the TEAL hungry and the sight of them

who said he was not born to
sing and look pretty flitting
among the trees, but was a
useful bird, born to be udone
brown" and look pretty in a dish.
Well, I am one of that kind, too.

Pin-tail, Sprig-tail, Sharp-tail,
Water Pheasant. I am known by
all of these names, though people
only use one at a time, I believe-

You will find us Pin-tails
generally in fresh water. We
move in very large flocks, in
company with our cousins the
Mallards, feeding and traveling
with them for days. But when
it comes to flying we distance
them everytime. Our flight is
rapid and graceful, the most
graceful, they say, of all the
Duck tribe.

Instead of a song we have a
call note, a low plaintive whistle
which we repeat two or three
times. It is easily imitated, and
often, thinking a companion
calls us, we swim in the direction
of the sound, when ubang" goes
a gun and over flops one or more
Pin- tails,

We have other enemies beside
man, and have to keep a sharp
lookout all the time. Way up
north one day, a Fox stood on
the borders of a lake and
watched a flock of Ducks feeding
among the rushes. He was very

made his mouth water.

"How can I get one of those
fine, fat fellows for my dinner,"
he muttered, and Mr. Fox, who
is very cunning, you know,
remained very quiet, while
he thought, and thought, and
thought.

U0h, I have it ! " he presently
exclaimed, and going to the
windward of the Ducks, set afloat
a lot of dead rushes or grass,
which drifted among the flock,
causing no alarm or suspicion
whatever.

Then Mr. Fox, taking a bunch
of grass in his mouth, slipped
into the lake, and with nothing
but the tips of his ears and nose
above the water, drifted down
among the rushes and the Ducks,
too.

Such a squawking as there
was, when Mr. Fox opened his
red mouth, seized the largest of
the flock, and with a chuckle
put back for the shore.

uHm ! " said he, after enjoying
his dinner, "what stupid things
Ducks are to be sure."

A mean trick, wasn't it ?
Nobody but a Fox — or a man-
would have thought of such a
thing. I'd rather be an innocent
Duck than either of them though
my name is Pin-tail. Wouldn't
you ?

176

THE PINTAIL DUCK,

LL the Ducks are interesting,
and few species of the feath-
ered creation, in shape, color,
beauty, and general va-
riety of appearance pre-
sent more that is attractive to the
student of ornithology. Aside from
their utility as destroyers of much that
is obnoxious to vegetation and useful
animal life, and as a desirable, if not
indispensable, food for man, they
possess characteristics that render them
interesting and instructive subjects for
investigation and study.

Among them this widely distributed
fresh water Duck is one of the best
known. Its name describes it well.
It is one of the first arrivals in the
spring. The Pintail haunts wet prair-
ies, mud flats, and the edges of reedy,
grassy waters, feeding largely upon
bulbous roots, tender shoots, insects
and their larvae, worms and snails,
and, on its return in the fall, upon
various seeds, water plants, and
grain. Acorns have been frequently
taken from the crops of these Ducks.

The Pintail, according to Goss,
seldom dives, and it never does so
while feeding, but in searching in the
water for its food immerses not only
the head but a large portion of the
body. It is an odd sight to see a
flock thus tipped up and working their
feet in the air, as if trying to stand
upon their heads. They move about
with a graceful motion of the head,
and with tail partially erect, and upon
the land step off with a dignity of
carriage as if impressed with the
thought that they are no common
Duck. In flight they are very swift.

The nest of the Pintail is placed

on low but dry, grassy land and not
far from water, usually under the
shelter of a bush, and is a mere depres-
sion in the ground, lined with grasses
and down. There are from seven to
eggs ten, of pale green to olive buff, in
form oval and ovate.

The habitat of the Pintail Duck is
the northern hemisphere in general ;
in North America it breeds from the
northern United States northward to
Iceland and south in winter to Cuba
and Panama.

Mr. George Northrup, of long ex-
perience on Calumet lake and river,
Illinois, says that only a few years ago
there were to be seen on these waters
during the seasons of migration as
many as a million, perhaps millions,
of Ducks, among which were multi-
tudes of Pintails. He has seen the
lake so covered with them that there
seemed to be no room whatever for
more, though others continued to
alight. The hunters were delighted
with the great opportunities these vast
flocks presented for slaughter — sport,
as they called it; mania, Mr. Northrup
characterized it. He said the birds, at
the very earliest indication of day,
hurried on swift wing to tlieir feeding-
grounds to get their breakfasts, where
the sportsmen were usually awaiting
them.

The Pintail Duck is not regarded as
so great a delicacy as the Canvasback,
the Red Head, or even the Mallard,
yet when fat, young, and tender it is
a very palatable bird, and well esteemed
for its flavor. The cook probably has
something to do with its acceptableness
when served, for

No Duck is bad when appetite
Waits on digestion.

179

FEATHERS OR FLOWERS?

AS the question which con-
fronted the fair sex this
year when about to select
their Easter hats or bonnets.

"Say flowers," pleaded the members
of the Audubon Society, and from the
many fair heads, innocent of feather
adornment, which bowed before the
lily-decked altars on Haster morning,
one must believe that the plea was
heeded.

Nearly every large house in Chi-
cago, dealing wholly or in part in
millinery goods, was visited by a mem-
ber of the Audubon Society, says the
Tribune. One man who sells nothing
but millinery declared that the bird
protective association was nothing but
a fad, and that it would soon be dead.
He further said he would sell anything
for hat trimming, be it flesh, fish, or
fowl, that a woman would wear.

Touching the question whether the
beautiful Terns and Gulls, with their
soft gray and white coloring, were to
be popular, it was said that they
would not be used as much as formerly.
One salesman said that he would try,
where a white bird was requested, to
get the purchaser to accept a domestic
Pigeon, which was just as beautiful as
the sea and lake birds named.

The milliners all agree that the
Snowy Egret is doomed to extermina-
tion within a short time, its plumes,
so fairy-like in texture, rendering its
use for trimming as desirable in sum-
mer as in winter.

As to the birds of prey, people
interested in our feathered friends are
as desirous of saving them from
destruction as they are to shield the
song birds. There are only a few of
the Hawks and Owls which are
injurious, most of them in fact being

beneficial. Hundreds of thousands of
these birds were killed for fashion's
sake last fall, so that this coming
season the farmer will note the absence
of these birds by the increased number
of rat, mouse, and rabbit pests with
which he will have to deal.

It is a matter of congratulation,
then, to the members of the Audubon
Society to know that their efforts in
Chicago have not been wholly fruitless,
inasmuch as the majority of dealers in
women's headgear are willing to con-
fess that they have felt the effect of
the bird protective crusade.

Dr. H. M. Wharton, pastor of
Brantly Baptist Church, Baltimore,
has always been a bitter opponent
of those who slaughter birds for
millinery purposes. "It is wholesale
murder," said he, "and I am delighted
that a bill is to be offered in the
Maryland legislature for the protection
of song birds. I have commented
from the pulpit frequently upon the
evil of women wearing birds' wings or
bodies of birds on their hats, for I
have long considered it a cruel
custom."

"Birds are our brothers and sisters,'
said the Rev. Hugh O. Pentecost
before the Unity Congregation at
Carnegie Music Hall, Pittsburg, a few
weeks ago. "If we are children of
God, so are they. The same intelli-
gence, life, and love that is in us is in
them. The difference between us is
not in kind, but in degree."

"How is this murderous vanity of
women to be overcome?" asks Our
Animal Friends. "We confess we do
not know; but this we do know, that
good women can make such displays
of vanity disreputable, and that good
women ought to do it"

180

THE DOUBLE YELLOW-HEADED PARROT.

^ ^N I ERE we have a picture of
the best, with possibly one
exception, the African Gray,
of the talking parrots.
•— *S Its home is in Mexico,
about the wooded bottoms of La Cruz
river, in the province of Taumaulipas,
on the east coast. It is a wild, pic-
turesque region of swamps, jungles,
and savannahs, with here and there a
solitary hacienda or farm-house, where
three hundred or four hundred persons
are at work in the fertile soil. Here,
three hundred miles south of Mata-
moras, the nearest American settle-
ment, is the spot where your pet
Parrot, says an exchange, probably
first opened its eyes to the light of day
stealing through the branches of the
ebony and coma trees, amid surround-
ings that might to an imaginary Polly
suggest the first dawn of creation.
The forests in this region abound in
all kinds of birds in rich plumage.
Parrakeets are so abundant that what
with the screeching and cawing of the
Parrots it is sometimes impossible to
hear one's own voice. Hunters do
not trouble themselves to secure them,
however, as they are not worth carry-
ing to market. There is apparently
a profit only in the Double Yellow-
head, for which the hunters get as
much as $20.00. There are two kinds
of Mexican Parrots, both of which are
held in far different esteem. The only
Mexican Parrot that is in general
demand as a talking pet is the Double
Yellow-head, which with age develops
a yellow hood that extends completely
over its head and shoulders. In con-
nection with the "speaking" of
Parrots, one of the most curious cir-
cumstances is that recorded by Hum-
boldt, who in South America met with
a venerable bird which remained the
sole possessor of a literally dead Ian-

guage, the whole tribe of Indians who
alone had spoken it having become
extinct.

The Parrot builds no nest. The
female selects a deep hollow in the
highest tree trunk and there lays two
eggs. This occurs about the first of
May. The young are hatched about
the 1 5th of June, ten days elapse
before they can open their eyes, and
several weeks must be allowed for the
young birds to outgrow their squab
state and gain sufficient strength to be
removed from the care of their parents.
The- Parrot is a wily and wise bird.
It lays its eggs safely out of reach of
ordinary danger and takes good care
not to betray their whereabouts.
When the young birds are hatched
they are fed twice a day by their
elders, early in the morning and again
about the close of day. The birds in
feeding their young give vent to a
series of contented clucks and chuckles,
which is answered by the young ones.
These birds live on mangoes and the
nuts of the ebony tree.

Newton observes, that considering
the abundance of Parrots both as
species and individuals, it is surprising
how little is known of their habits in
a wild state.

It is probable that no other bird has
been more admired or more thoroughly
execrated. If it is good natured, is an
interesting talker, and you happen to
be in a mood to listen to it with
some pleasure, you will speak favorably
of the bird, saying to it: "Pretty
Polly! pretty Polly!" but should your
nerves be unstrung and every noise a
source of irritation, the rasping, high-
pitched screech of a Parrot, which is a
nuisance in any neighborhood, will
be beyond endurance. We shall always
be satisfied with the possession of
Polly's picture as she was.

THE DOUBLE YELLOW-HEADED PARROT.

I came from Mexico. Once I
talked Spanish, but at the
present time I speak the English
language altogether. Lucky,
isn't it ? My neck might be
wrung did I cry " Viva Espana ! "
just now.

The reason why I spoke
Spanish in Mexico was because
I boarded with a Spaniard there;
now I live in the United States
and make my home with an
American family. As I only
repeat what I hear I must, of
course, talk just as they do.

I was born, however, in the
finest Parrot country in the
world. My mother built her
nest in a deep hollow in the
highest tree trunk in a swamp
or jungle, and there laid just two
eggs. She was wise to choose a
high tree, for there sLe thought
her nest w'as out of danger.

When we were hatched, my
brother and I, our parents fed
us only twice a day, in the early
morning and late evening. Two
meals a day was enough for
little babies, my mother said.

Well, maybe it was, but in
our case it would have been
better had she not fed us at all.
You see the Parrot hunters were
about, and as my parents always
kept up such a loud " clucking "
when feeding us, and we did the
same, why, the hunters found out
in which tall tree we lived.

It was easy then for a "peon" or
poor Mexican to climb the tree,
and so all of our family were
made prisoners. Being Double
Yellow-headed Parrots we were
very valauble because we can talk.
My master paid $20.00 for me.

The gentleman who owns me
now sells tickets in a theatre.
My cage hangs near the window,
and I used to hear him say
when there was a rush to buy
tickets, " One at a time, gentle-
men ; one ^t a time, please ! " I
hadn't learned to speak English
very well, then, but I heard the
sentence so often that I stored
it up for future use.

My master, one day, went to
the country and took me with
him. The sight of the trees
made me think of my old home,
so I escaped from the cage and
flew off to the woods.

They searched for me all day
but not till nightfall did they
find me. Such a sorry looking
bird as I was, sitting far out on
the end of a limb of a tree, with
my back humped, and half
the gay feathers plucked out of
me. Around me were a flock of
Crows, picking at me whenever
they got a chance.

" One at a time, gentlemen," I
kept saying, hitching along the
limb, uone at a time, please;"
but instead of tickets they each
got a feather.

182

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences. DOUBLE YELLOW-HEADED PARROT.

CHICAGO COLORTrPE CO.. CHIC. * NEW YORK.

Co|.vriKlit I iy
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898. Chicago.

SPRING THOUGHTS.

ND now there is such a
fiddling in the woods, such
a viol creaking of bough on
bough that you would
think music was being
born again as in the days of Orpheus.
Orpheus and Apollo are certainly there
taking lessons ; aye, and the Jay and
Blackbird, too, learn now where they
stole their " thunder. " They are

perforce, silent, meditating new strains.

* * * *

Methinks I would share every
creature's suffering for the sake of its
experience and joy. The Song Spar-
row and the transient Fox-colored
Sparrow, have they brought me no
message this year? Is not the coming
of the Fox-colored Sparrow something
more earnest and significant than I
have dreamed of? Have I heard what
this tiny passenger has to say while it
flits thus from tree to tree ? God did
not make this world in jest, no, nor in
indifference. These migratory Spar-
rows all bear messages that concern
my life. I love the birds and beasts
because they are mythologically in
earnest. I see the Sparrow chirps, and
flits, and sings adequately to the great
design of the universe, that man does
not communicate with it, understand
its language, because he is not alone
with nature. I reproach myself
because I have regarded with in-
difference the passage of the birds.
I have thought them no better than I.

I hear the note of a Bobolink con-
cealed in the top of an apple tree
behind me. Though this bird's full
strain is ordinarily somewhat trivial,
this one appears to be meditating a
strain as yet unheard in meadow or
orchard. He is just touching the
strings of his theorbo, his glassichord,
his water organ, and one or two notes
globe themselves and fall in liquid
bubbles from his tuning throat. It is
as if he touched his harp within a vase
of liquid melody, and when he lifted
it out the notes fell like bubbles from
the trembling strings. Methinks they
are the most liquidly sweet and
melodious sounds I ever heard. They
are as refreshing to my ear as the first
distant tinkling and gurgling of a rill
to a thirsty man. Oh, never advance
farther in your art ; never let us hear
your full strain, sir ! But away he
launches, and the meadow is all be-
spattered with melody. Its notes fall
with the apple blossoms in the orchard.
The very divinest part of his strain
drops from his overflowing breast
singultim, in globes of melody. It is
the foretaste of such strains as never
fell on mortal ears, to hear which we
should rush to our doors and contribute
all that we possess and are. Or it
seemed as if in that vase full of melody
some notes sphered themselves, and
from time to time bubbled up to the
surface, and were with difficulty
repressed.

— Thoreau.

185

THE MAGNOLIA WARBLER.

SN

this number of BIRDS we pre-
sent two very interesting speci-
mens of the family of Warblers,
the Magnolia or Black and
Yellow Warbler, ranking first
in elegance. Its habitat is eastern
North America as far west as the base
of the Rocky Mountains. It breeds
cornnfonly in northern New England,
New York, Michigan, and northward.
According to Mr. William Brewster it
is found everywhere common through-
out the White Mountains of New
Hampshire. Its favorite resorts are
little clumps of firs and spruce shrubs,
also willow thickets near streams and
ponds and other damp places. " Its
gay colors and sprightly song will at
once attract the attention of even the
casual observer. The nest is usually
placed in the horizontal twigs of a fir
or spruce at heights .ranging from four to
six feet, five being the average eleva-
tion, and the favorite localities are the
edges of wood paths, clearings, or roads
bordered by woods. Sometimes the
nests are built in the tops of young
hemlocks ten or fifteen feet up, or in
the heart of the forest thirty-five feet
above the ground." Mr. Brewster

describes the nest as loosely put
together, of fine twigs, preferredly hem-
lock, coarse grasses and dry weed-
stalks. The lining is fine black roots,
closely resembling horse-hair.. The
eggs are four, very rarely five, of
creamy white, spotted and blotched
with various shades of reddish brown,
hazel and chestnut. The markings
are generally large and well defined
and often form wreaths about the
larger ends.

Ridgway mentions the Magnolia
Warbler as " one of the most agile of
its tribe, its quick and restless move-
ments being more like those of the
Redstart than those of its nearest
kindred. The tail is carried some-
what elevated and widely expanded, to
display the broad white band across
the middle portion of the inner web of
the feathers, which together with the
bold contrasts of black, yellow, and
blue-gray of the plumage, render it
both conspicuous and beautiful."

Mr. Langille describes the song of
the Magnolia Warbler as " a loud,
clear whistle, which may be imitated
by the syllables chee-to, chee-to, chee-tee-ee,
uttered rapidly and ending in the fall-
ing inflection."

I CAN BUT SING.

" O little bird of restless wing,
Why dost thou sing so sweet and loud?
Why dost thou sing so strong and proud ?
Why dost thou sing? "

" Oh I have drunk the wine of spring,
My mate hath built a nest with me :
My hope flames out in song," said he,

"I can but sing."

186

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences

MAGNOLIA WARBLER.
Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study I'ub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

BIRDS PAIRING IN SPRING.

O the deep woods

They haste away, all as their fancy leads,
Pleasure, or food, or secret safety prompts ;
That nature's great command may be obeyed,
Nor all the sweet sensations they perceive
Indulged in vain. Some to the holly hedge
Nestling, repair, and to the thicket, some ;
Some to the rude protection of the thorn
Commit their feeble offspring ; the cleft tree
Offers its kind concealment to a few,
Their food its insects, and its moss their nests;
Others apart, far in the grassy dale
Or roughening waste their humble texture weave;
But most in woodland solitudes delight,
In unfrequented glooms or shaggy banks,
Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,
Whose murmurs soothe them all the livelong day,
When by kind duty fixed. Among the roots
Of hazel pendent o'er the plaintive stream,
They frame the first foundation of their domes,
Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,
And bound with clay together. Now 'tis nought
But restless hurry through the busy air,
Beat by unnumbered wings. The swallow sweeps
The slimy pool, to build his hanging house
Intent ; and often from the careless back
Of herds and flocks a thousand tugging bills
Steal hair and wool ; and oft when unobserved,
Pluck from, the barn a straw ; till soft and warm,
Clean and complete, their habitation grows.
As thus the patient dam assiduous sits,
Not to be tempted from her tender task
Or by sharp hunger or by smooth delight,
Though the whole loosened spring around her blows,
Her sympathizing lover takes his stand
High on the opponent bank, and ceaseless sings
The tedious time away ; or else supplies
Her place a moment, while she suddenly flits
To pick the scanty meal.

— -James Thomson.

THE GREAT BLUE HERON.

n-^— ^

LjRRONEOUSLY called Sand-
p^j hill Crane or Blue Crane, by
|_ * which names it is better

^^^•^^ known than by its
proper name, this bird is well known
as one of the most characteristic of
North America, breeding, as it does,
singly and in colonies from the Arctic
regions southward to the West Indies
and South America. In the warmer
parts of the country it breeds in vast
heronries in company with other
species of Herons, of which there are
eleven or twelve, to which places they
resort year after year. It is a common
bird, except in localities far removed
from streams or ponds which furnish
its food supply.

This solitary and wary bird is
usually seen standing in shallow water,
often in mid-stream, but it requires
great caution and skill on the part of
the person who would observe its
movements to get a view of him, as he
usually first sees the intruder, and
startles him by his harsh squawking
cries as he flies from his feeding
place.

The nests are placed in trees along
rivers, usually the largest. They
are bulky structures of sticks on the
highest branches, a dozen or more
nests sometimes being built in one
tree. In localities destitute of trees
the nests are built on rocks. Sycamore
trees are favorite resorts of these birds,
the light color of the limbs and the
peculiar tint of the foliage harmoniz-
ing so well with their plumage as to
render their presence difficult of
detection.

The Heron's food consists of fishes,
frogs, crawfish, and the like, large
quantities of which must be sacrificed
to appease its voracious appetite, as

Grotesque and tall, he stands erect,

Where the reed-riffle swirls and gleams.

Grave, melancholy, circumspect —

A hermit of the streams. — ERNEST McGAFFEY.

many as ten good-sized fishes having
been disgorged at one time by a Heron
that was in haste to get away, a
happy provision of nature which often
enables this family of birds to escape
from the squirrel hunters and
irresponsible gun-carriers.

The eggs of this species are plain
greenish-blue and three or four in
number. The young are without
plumes, which develop gradually with
maturity.

Dr. Neill mentions a curious instance
of the Heron feeding on young Water-
hens. A large old willow tree has
fallen down into the pond, and at the
extremity, which is partly sunk in the
sludge and continues to vegetate,
WTater-hens breed. The old male
Heron swims out to the nest and takes
the young if he can. He has to swim
ten or twelve feet, where the water is
between two and three feet deep. His
motion through the water is slow, but
his carriage stately. He has been seen
to fell a rat at one blow on the back
of the head, when the rat was munch-
ing at his dish offish.

While the Heron stands on the
water's edge, it remains still as if carved
out of rock, with its neck retracted,
and its head resting between the
shoulders. In this attitude its sober
plumage and total stillness render it
very inconspicuous, and as it prefers
to stand under the shadow of a tree,
bush, or bank, it cannot be seen except
by a practiced eye, in spite of its
large size.

The flight of the Heron is grand
and stately. The head, body, and legs
are held in a line, stiff and immovable,
and the gently waving wings cany the
bird through the air with a rapidity
that seems the effect of magic.

190

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

GREAT BLUE HERON.
1 5 Life-size.

Copy right t>y
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898. Chicago.

THE GREAT BLUE HERON.

I belong to a family that
is fast disappearing, simply
because my plumes are pretty.
The ladies must have them to
trim their hats and bonnets, so
the plume hunters visit our
urookeries" when our mates are
on their nest, and kill hundreds
and hundreds of us.

Our nests are great flat, bulky
affairs, made of sticks and lined
with grasses. We build them
in high trees along the rivers, or
way back in the swamps, a dozen
or more in one tree.

We "go fishing" every day;
but not for sport as you boys do.
No, indeed, we must get a catch
or go hungry. Our long bills
are better than a hook and line,
and our long legs enable us to
wade in the water without
getting our clothes — feathers, I
mean, — wet. Fish, frogs, and
crawfish make up our diet", and
as we have very healthy appe-
tites it takes a great many of
them to make a meal.

Like some other birds I have
more than one name. Blue Crane,
Little Blue, Little Crane, Skimmer,
and Scissorsbill. Some people call
me "gawky." Is that a name,
too?

To see us standing on one
foot, by the margin of a stream,
the very picture of loneliness, you

would little imagine what gay
birds we are just before the
mating season in the spring.

In order to show off our best
points before the lady-birds, off
we all go to some secluded spot,
form a circle or ring, in which
each male bird in turn performs
his showing off act. We skip,
flap our wings, curve our necks,
and prance around, the lady-
birds expressing their approval
by deep croaks, something like
a bull-frog's, while the envious
cocks keep up a running fire of
remarks in the rasping tones of
a horse-fiddle.

Each performer when his act
is done, resumes his place in the
circle, and so it goes on, till
every male has displayed his
accomplishments and good looks
before the lady-birds. Then we
return to our feeding grounds,
and nose around in the water
for our supper.

It does sound odd to hear a
bird of my size talk about flying,
doesn't it ? But in truth my
body is very light, weighing
between four and five pounds. I
am long from bill to tail, and
my wings are very long and
curving.

My legs ? Oh that is a matter
I dislike to talk about. They
certainly speak for themselves.

193

A FOSTER BROTHER'S KINDNESS.

YOUNG Oriole was rescued
from the water where it had
evidently just fallen from
the nest. When taken
home it proved a ready
pet and was given full freedom of the
place. Some weeks later a nestling
from another brood was placed in the
same cage with the other. The new-
comer had not yet learned to feed him-
self, and like a baby as it was, cried
incessantly for food. The first captive
though but a fledgling himself, pro-
ceeded to feed the orphan with all the
tender solicitude of a parent.

" It was irresistably cunning and
heartsorne,. too," says the narrator, W.
L. Dawson, in the Bulletin, " to see the
bird select with thoughtful kindness
a morsel of food and hop over toward
the clamoring stranger and drop it in
his mouth, looking at it afterward
with an air as much as to say, ' there,
baby, how did you like that ? ' This
trait was not shown by a chance exhi-
bition, but became a regular habit,
and was still followed when the older
bird had attained to fly catching. It
upset all ones notions about instinct
and made one think of a Golden Rule
for birds."

A GOOSE THAT TAKES A HEN SAILING.

The following remarkable instance
of the communication of ideas among
the lower animals is narrated by the
Rev. C. Otway :

" At the flour mills of Tubberakeena,
near Clonmel, while in the possession
of the late Mr. Newbold, there was a
Goose, which by some accident was
left solitary, without mate or offspring,
gander or goslings. Now it happened,
as is common, that the miller's wife
had set a number of Duck eggs under
a hen, which in due time were incu-
bated ; and of course the ducklings, as
soon as they came forth, ran with nat-
ural instinct to the water, and the hen
was in a sad pucker — her maternity
urging her to follow the brood, and
her instinct disposing her to keep on
dry land.

" In the meanwhile, up sailed the
Goose, and with a noisy gabble, which
certainly (being interpreted) meant,
' Leave them to my care,' she swam
up and down with the ducklings, and

when they were tired with their
aquatic excursion, she consigned them
to the care of the hen.

" The next morning, down came
again the ducklings to the pond, and
there was the Goose waiting for them,
and there stood the hen in her great
flustration. On this occasion we are
not at all sure that the Goose invited
the hen, observing her maternal
trouble ; but it is a fact that she being
near the shore, the hen jumped on her
back, and there sat, the ducklings
swimming and the Goose and hen
after them, up and down the pond.

" This was not a solitary event ; day
after day the hen was seen on board
the Goose, attending the ducklings up
and down, in perfect contentedness and
good humor — numbers of people com-
ing to witness thecircumstance, which
continued until the ducklings, coming
to days of discretion, required no longer
the joint guardianship of the Goose and
Hen." — Witness.

194

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

EGGS.

Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

1. Great Crested Fly-catcher. 2. King Bird. 3. Night Hawk. 4. Crow. 5. Red-headed Woodpecker 6. Yellow-billed Cui'koo. 7. Audution's
Carac:ira. 8. Black-billed Mtippie. 9. Kingfisher. 10. Screech Owl. 11. Turkey Vulture. 12 Gamble's 1'iirirj.ifp. 13. Boh \Vhitp.

THE NEW TENANTS.

BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.

Under the eaves in an old tin pot,

Six little birds lie in a nest;
The mother bird broods them with her wings,

And her downy-feathered breast.
With "coos" and "chirps" she tells her love

As human mothers do,
Says "tootsy, wootsy, mammy's dove,

And papa's tootsy, too."

Pierre gazed after Bridget with a
perplexed look.

" A-a-what ?" he inquired: " I never
heard that word before."

"Oh, you did'nt," returned Henry
with a wise air, " if I'm not mistaken
a Hornithologist has reference to a
Horned Owl. Has it not, Mama?"

"It might if there were such a word,"
she replied, with a laugh. " Bridget
meant an Ornithologist, the scientific
name for students of birds and their
ways. But come, Mrs. Wren shows
signs of uneasiness; we must not dis-
turb her again to-day."

"I'm truly glad they are gone,"
said Mrs. Wren, as her spouse flew
over to the tin pot. "It makes me
very nervous when they all stand
about and stare at me so."

" Of course it does," sympathizingly
replied Mr. Wren, " but now, let nie
get another peep at the little darling.
My, what a lovely little creature it
is?" and Mr. Wren whisked his tail
and chirped to the baby in a truly
papa-like fashion.

"And to think that moon-faced
Bridget said it was the 'skinniest,
ugliest little baste she iver saw',"
indignantly returned Mrs. Wren,
mimicking Bridget's brogue to perfec-

tion. "The precious little thing?"
turning the birdling over with her
bill, " why, he is the very image of
his father."

" Do you think so?" a little doubt-
fully, " It seems to me that-that "

" Oh, you will see when his hair, or
rather feathers grow out and his lovely
black eyes open. Just look at his dear
little tootsy-wootsy's," kissing the long
scrawny toes, "my, how glad I am
that the eldest is a boy. Little
Dorothy will have a brother to protect
her, you know."

" Don't count your chickens before
they are hatched, my dear," warned
Mr. Wren, never forgetful of the many
dangers surrounding a nest full of
eggs, or young birds. "Mr. Jay, or
Mr. Owl, or Mr. Hawk, might yet pay
us a visit and — "

"Or a collector might come along,"
said Mrs. Wren, " and carry off eggs,
birdling, and all. Oh how that
thought frightens me," and the poor
little mother cowered deeper down in
the nest uttering a plaintive, shudder-
ing cry.

"There, there!" said Mr. Wren,
caressing her with his bill, " time
enough to cross the stream when we
come to it. Our landlord will protect

197

his tenants, I am sure, so sit here and
croon a lullaby to the baby while I go
to market. I heard of a place yester-
day where I can get some of those
delicious thousand legs of which you
are so fond. Ta, ta, love," and away
he flew, fully alive to the fact of
another mouth in the home-nest to
feed.

Every day for six, a little yellow
bill pecked its way out of the shell,
and every day a delighted and curious
group of children peeked into the tin-
pot at the nervous Mrs. Wren and her
family.

" Their eyes look so big, and so do
their mouths," she lamented after one
of these visits. " I am always re-
minded of that story our landlady one
afternoon told the children."

" What story ? " tenderly inquired
Mr. Wren.

" Of the wolf and Little Red Riding
Hood. Ugh! imagine anything eating
up our dear little Dorothy ! " and Mrs.
Wren stood on her feet, fluffed her
feathers in a pretty motherly way and
gathered her brood more closely under
her.

Very little time, now, had Mr.
Wren to spare for singing or flying
about with his neighbors, so occupied
were he and Mrs. Wren in providing
food for their family.

" There is precious little fun in this
sort of thing," growled he one day
when paying a brief visit to Mr. John
and his spouse. " One can never go
near the nest but open fly six red
mouths asking for food. Its peep,
peep, peep, from morning till night ;
hurry, hurry, hurry, eat and bring up
again ; to cram, cram, cram down six

long, red throats the whole day long.
There are some days," with a sigh,
" when I really long to be a bachelor
again."

" Oh, you do," said Mrs. John, with
a meaning glance at her husband,
" There are other fathers of families, I
dare say, Mr. Wren, who, if they dared
would say the same thing. But,"
smoothing her apron, " you have such
a shiftless creature for a wife that I
don't much wonder. Jenny, I pre-
sume, stays at home and lets you do
all the fetching and carrying.''

u Indeed," replied Mr. Wren, who
wished he had not complained at all,
" you are very much mistaken, Mrs.
John. Jenny can find more grubs,
worms, and beetles in one minute than
I can in ten. She is always on the go,
and seldom complains, though I must
admit she does a deal of scolding."

" She wouldn't be a member of our
family if she didn't," proudly said Mrs.

John, " my mother " but Mr.

Wren, who had heard that story a
score of times, suddenly remembered
Mrs. Jenny would be expecting him at
home, said u good-by " and hastily flew
away.

Pierre, the first born, was now old
enough to fly, but timidly stayed
in the nest. Mrs. Wren noted with
great anxiety that no sooner did she
leave the tin-pot but up popped six
little heads, and out upon a curious
world gazed twelve little bead-like
eyes.

" Do be good children while I am
gone," she would entreat, when ready
for market, " do keep your heads in-
side of the house. Pierre, put your
head down in the nest instantly, do

198

you hear me ! " and little Mrs. Wren
would stand on the edge of the tin-pot
and fussily cry krup, up, up, which in
Wren language means, you naughty,
naughty, birds.

" I think I am big enough to get
out of here," said Pierre one day as
he watched her fly away, " bugs and
worms must taste a heap better fresh
from the ground. I'm tired of baby-
food, I am."

" So am I," piped Emmett, " you
try your wings first, Pierre, and if you
can fly I will come after."

" Well, here goes," said Pierre, pois-
ing himself on the rim of the pot as
he had seen his parents do, "watch me,
boys, watch me fly."

"Well, we are watching you," they
chorused, as he spread his wings and
flapped them a number of times, " why
don't you go ? "

"I — I — " stammered Pierre, "oh,
there's a cat! "and into the pot he
darted and down they all huddled
like so many frightened mice.

Presently Bobbie raised his head
and peeped out.

" I don't see any cat," said he, "and
I don't believe you did, either, Pierre.
You were only afraid to fly."

Pierre looked a little sheepish.

" If you fellows think it so easy, try
it," was the mocking reply. " There
is nobody here to hinder you."

"Well, I will," said Bobbie stoutly,
and out he crawled onto the edge of
the pot, spread his wings, and with
one preparatory flap rose in the air and
down he came with a frightened
" peep " to the ground.

Bridget at this moment, broom in
hand, came out upon the porch to do
her daily sweeping.

" It's lucky for ye's, me darlint,"
said she, tenderly picking up the
helpless bird, " that we do be havin'
no cats for tinents on these premises,
so it is. A purty soft thing ye's now
are in your coat of feathers, and not
an ugly little baste, at all, at all."

" It's quare," she continued, strok-
ing the bird with her big red fingers,
" what idees the innocent crather do
be puttin' into me head for sure. Me
hand, for insthance, and the wings ov
this little bird ! Two wonderful
things, when wan comes to think of it,
and very useful. It's sorra crathers
we'd both be without 'em, wudn't we,
birdie ? There now," placing it in the
pot, " take an owld woman's advice
and don't ye's be so anxious after
leavin' the home nest. Its many a
hard arned dollar, so it is, that Bridget
O'Flaherty wud give to get back to
her own," and with visions before her
humid eyes, of Old Ireland and the
tumble-down cottage in which she was
born , Bridget fell vigorouslylto sweeping.

(TO BE CONCI/UDED^

199

SUMMARY.

Page 166.

SOUTH AMERICAN RHEA.— Rhea amer-
icana. Other name: "Ostrich."

RANGE — Paraguay and southern Brazil
through the State of La Plata to Patagonia.

NEST — In the ground, dug by the female
with her feet.

EGGS — Twenty and upwards.

Page 170.

BAY-BREASTED WARBLER.— Dendroica
castanea. Other name: "Autumnal Warbler."

RANGE — Eastern North America, westward
to Hudson Bay; south in winter to Central
America.

NEST — Of fine shreds of bark, small twigs,
roots and, pine hair.

EGGS — Four, white, with bluish tinge, finely
speckled on or round the larger end.

Page 174.

BLACK - NECKED STILT. — Himantopus
mexicanus. Other names: "Lawyer," "Long
Shanks," "Pink-Stockings."

RANGE— The whole of temperate North
America, middle America, and northern South
America, south to Peru and Brazil; West Indies
in general, and Bermudas; north on the Atlantic
coast to Maine. More generally distributed
and more abundant in the western than in the
eastern province.

NEST — Small sticks and roots, in the grass
on the margin of a lake or river.

EGGS — Three or four, greenish-yellow.

Page 178.

PINTAIL.— Dafila acuta. Other names:
Sprig-tail; Spike- tail; Pike-tail; Picket-tail;
Pheasant Duck; Sea Pheasant; Water Pheasant;
Long-neck.

RANGE — Nearly the entire northern hemis-
phere, breeding chiefly far northward, in North

America, migrating south in winter as far as
Panama and Cuba.

NEST — In tall bunches of prairie grass,
seldom far from water.

EGGS — Eight or nine, of a dull grayish olive.

Page 183.

DOUBLE YELLOW-HEADED PARROT.
— Conurus mexicanus.

RANGE — Eastern coast of Mexico.
NEST — In holes of trees.
EGGS— Two.

Page 187.

MAGNOLIA WARBLER.— Dendroica macu-
losa. Other name: "Black and Yellow Warbler."

RANGE — Eastern North America, west to
eastern base of Rocky Mountains; winters in
Bahamas, Cuba (rare), eastern Mexico and
Central America.

NEST — Loosely put together, of fine twigs,
coarse grasses, and dry weed-stalks, lined with
fine black roots resembling horse hair.

EGGS — Pour, creamy white, spotted and
blotched with various shades of reddish-brown,
hazel and chestnut.

Page 191.

GREAT BLUE HERON.— Ardea hetodias.
Other names: "Sand-hill Crane;" "Blue
Crane."

RANGE — The whole of North and middle
America, excepting Arctic districts; north to
Hudson's Bay, fur countries, and Sitka; south
to Columbia, Venzuela ; Bermudas, and
throughout the West Indies.

NEST — In high trees along rivers, or in the
depths of retired swamps.

EGGS — Commonly three or four, of a plain
greenish blue.

200

BIRDS.

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

VOL. III.

JUNE, 1898.

No. 6.

JUNE.

" What is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come prefect days. "

ES, Lowell, in a few words,
describes the month of
June, or, at least, he indicates
something of it. But, still,
what are perfect days ? We look for
them in April, when the birds, many
of them, certainly the most attractive
of them, return from the south, and we
find ourselves, when we visit the
woods and parks, disappointed that
the sun does not shine, that the air is
not soft and balmy, and that the grass
and leaves and buds do not show
themselves in spring attire, for, on the
contrary, we find winter lingering
distressingly near, that the merry
Warblers are silent, and that the
"greenery of young Nature" is very
slow to indicate her presence or even
her early coming. We pull our wrap-
pings about us and go home. April
past, we then fancy that her older
sister, May, beautiful in literary imagery
— for do we not recall descriptive
visions of May days of long ago, when
the human blossoms danced about the
May pole, lolled luxuriantly in the
soft, tender grass, hid themselves in

the deep-leaved trees, and at last
gratified our imaginations with the
belief that she is altogether perfect ?
Unfortunately a chill takes possession
of us and we return home disconsolate.
May also has disappointed us. We
have had an experience which we
shall not forget We have seen and
recognized many birds, but they have
not sung for us. They have been, as
they almost always are, influenced by
the elements. And why should they
not be ? They have but one suit of
clothes. Have you observed the
Robin in the early spring? He is
worth watching. We watched a fine
specimen in south Washington Park
in March last. It was a comparatively
mild day for the windy month. He
perched on a lateral limb of a leafless
tree a few yards from Sixtieth street.
Whether he saw us or not we could
not be sure, as he took little notice
beyond saying Toot-tut, toot-tut! He
ruffled his suit and seemed as fat as
feathers could make him. They
seemed as important to him as were
buffalo robes to the sleighing parties of

a few days before. Still he was
observant and seemed to be looking
for stray food that would warm him
up. We had some fresh crackers in
our pocket, which we broke into fine
fragments, and scattered, withdrawing
several yards away. To our surprise,
not only the Robin but several Nut-
hatches, some Brown Creepers, a
number of English Sparrows, three or
four Bluejays, and a gray Squirrel,
(from whence he came I could not
conceive, there being no large tree
near in which he might have had a
winter home) came with great prompt-
itude to feed on the unexpected offer-
ing. Others, no doubt, have had this
experience. Does it not suggest that
the birds which remain with us the
whole year round — finding, of course,
during the spring, summer, and fall,
sufficient for their wants, — should be
looked after a little bit, if only that
they may be permitted to escape
from the sometime unusually severe
storms of winter? Nature has
provided them with ample feathery
protection from her ordinary moods,
but when she breaks out in icy blasts
and snow that covers the very face of
her they suffer and they perish.

But April, with its weather un-
certainties— although it has long been
said and believed that its showers bring
May flowers — with its disappoint-
ments to all those who wish that the
balm of mild breezes would come —
longed for by the invalid and the
convalescent, the lover of nature who
would go forth to visit her and to
court her, April seems a sort of hum-
bug. And is May much better ? How
many days, "so calm, so sweet, so
bright, the bridal of the earth and
sky," come in May ? A few do come,
and we remember them. But, as
Lowell says, perfect days are rare, even
in June, when, if ever, come " perfect

days." We think that Lowell never-
theless lived a little too far north to
entitle him to state, even poetically,
that perfect days are only to be enjoyed
in June. Had he, with the writer,
lived in southern Ohio, on the Little
Miami river, and gone fishing in the
month of May, he would, we think,
have changed his mind. Or had he
read the little less than perfect poem
of W. H. Venable, which, it may be,
however, was written later than the
verses of our, many think, greatest
poet, "June on the Miami," he might
have put aside his books and his
criticisms and his philosophy, and
sought out the beaiitiful river of
western history — then the sweetest
stream that flowed in America, and
even now, notwithstanding the giant
sycamores have largely disappeared
and the waters of the river have greatly
diminished in volume, leaving only
holes and ripples, — and modified his
views of days perfect only in June.
There were perfect days in May on the
Miami. There were perfect days on
all the streams that made it. The
birds were multitudinous; they sang in
chorus ; they were, indeed, almost
infinite in number — for the naturalist
and the collector were unknown — the
birds were natural residents, without
fear of man, building their nests close
to his habitations. A year or two ago
we stopped off the cars in May in
order to recall, if possible, in the
shadow of a few remaining trees
at a familiar place on the vanishing
river, in the expected voices of the
well known native birds, the delight-
ful far-gone years. Verily we had our
reward, but it was not satisfactory. It
seems to us we should do our best,
through legislation and personal
influence to protect and multiply the
birds.

— C. C. MARBLE.

202

OUR NEIGHBOR.

We've a charming new neighbor moved in the next door ;

He is hardly new either, he's lived there before ;
I should think he had come here two summers or more ;
His winters he spends far away.

He is handsome and stylish, most fine to behold,

In his glossy black coat and his vest of bright gold;
He is " proud of his feathers," so I have been told,
And I half believe what people say.

His wife is a beauty, he's fond of her, too ;

He calls her his u Judy ;" I like it, don't you ?
And he sings every day all the long summer through,
Yet he is not a bit of a bore.

For he's a musician of wonderful power ;

I could list to his beautiful voice by the hour,
As he sings to his wife in their green, shady bower
In the elm tree that shadows my door.

He's a sociable neighbor, we like him full well,

Although we've not called yet, and cannot quite tell
All he says, tho' his voice is as clear as a bell,
And as sweet as the notes of a psalm.

Do you ask what his name is ? Our dear little Sue
Was anxious to know it, and asked him it, too,
And this was his answer, I'll tell it to you—
" My name is Sir Oriole, ma'am."

— L. A. P., in Our Dumb Animals,

203

BIRDS' NESTS.

HE NEST OF THE MOURN-
ING DOVE.— The nest of
the Carolina or Mourning
Dove, which authorities place
on the horizontal limb of a tree, is not
always found in this situation, as I can
testify. Last year, while wandering
in early May through a piece of low
woodland in Amherst, Mass., my eye
was caught by a pair of well-grown
youngsters covered with bluish pin
feathers. The nest containing them —
a loose affair of small sticks and leaves
— was placed on the ground, or rather
on the decayed base of a stump, sur-
rounded by a ring of second-growth
birches. Immediately suspecting their
identity, I merged myself in the
landscape after the manner of bird-
lovers, and was soon rewarded by a
sight of the parent Doves, who came
sweeping down from a neighboring
tree, uttering their pensive call-note.
The pair had been frequent visitors
about the lawn and drive-way for a few
weeks previous.

I have heard of another similar
instance of ground-nesting on the part
of Wild Doves.

— DORA READ GOODALE.

WRENS— That clumsy little bunch
of animated feathers, the Wren, is un-
doubtedly the most contented of
dwellers on the face of the earth. In
country or city he is never homeless.
Anything hollow, with an aperture
large enough to admit his jaunty
little self is sufficient, and so long as it
remains undisturbed he is a happy
tenant. The variety of sites selected
by this agile little creature, is greater
than that of any other bird.

It has been said that ''a Wren will
build in anything from a bootleg to a
bomb-shell." And this seems to be so.

Many an urchin can testify to having
found the neat nest of the Wren in
his cast-off shoe or a tin can, and nests
filled with Wren eggs are frequent
finds in odd places aroiind the battle
fields of the Sotith.

The home of a Wren, a few miles
from Petersburg, Va., furnishes the
strangest case in the matter of queer
habitations yet discovered. This
country is the site of one of the most
dramatic epochs of the civil war, and
frequently the bones of unburied
soldiers are picked up. Recently a
rusty old skull was found in which
one of these Wrens chose a shelter.
The skull, when found, was hidden in
a patch of shrubbery. The interior of
the one-time pate was carefully cleaned
out, and nestled in the basin of the
bony structure was the birth-place of
many a baby Wren. The skull made
a perfect domicile. A bullet hole in
the rear formed a window. An eye-
less socket was the exit and entrance
to the grim home. It is easy to
imagine that many a family feud had
-its origin in the desire of others to
possess so secure a home.

" I have myself," says A. W.
A.ithony, of San Diego, Cal., "watched
Cactus Wrens in New Mexico carrying
grass and thickening the walls of their
old nests in October, for winter use,
and have found them hidden in their
nests during a snowstorm in November.
But there is another trait in bird
nature that I have seen very little of
in print — that of building nests before
or after the proper season, seemingly
for the sole purpose of practice or
pastime, the out-cropping of an instinct
that prompts ambitious birds to build
out of season even though they
know that their work will be
lost."

204

ioin col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

BRUNNICHS MURRB.
% Life -size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Hub. CD., 1898. Chicago.

BRUNNICH'S MURRE.

HIS species, which inhabits the
coasts and islands of the north
Atlantic and eastern Arctic
ocean, and the Atlantic coast
south to New Jersey, has the same
general habits as the common Murre,
which, like all the Auks, Murres and,
Puffins, is eminently gregarious, es-
pecially in the breeding season. Davie
says that tens of thousands of these
birds congregate to make their nests
on the rocky islands, laying single
eggs near one another on the shelves
of the cliffs. The birds sit side by
side, and although crowded together
never make the least attempt to quarrel.
Clouds of birds may be seen circling in
the air over some huge, rugged bastion,
''forming a picture which would seem
to belong to the imaginary rather than
the realistic." They utter a syllable
which sounds exactly like murre. The
eggs are so numerous as to have commer-
cial value, and they are noted for their
great variation in markings and ground
color. On the Farallones islands,
where the eggs were until recently col-
lected for market purposes, the Murres
nest chiefly in colonies, the largest
rookery covering a hillside and sur-
rounding cliffs at West End, and
being known as the Great Rookery.
To observe the egg-gatherers, says an
eye-witness, is most interesting. "As an
egger climbs his familiar trail toward
the birds a commotion becomes ap-
parent among the Murres. They

jostle their neighbors about the uneven
rocks and now and then with open bills
utter a vain protest and crowd as far
as possible from the intruder without
deserting their eggs. But they do not
stay his progress and soon a pair, then
a group, and finally, as the fright
spreads, the whole vast rookery take
wing toward the ocean. In the dis-
tance, perhaps, we see, suspended over
a cliff by a slender rope, an egger
gathering the eggs from along the
narrow shelves of rock, seeming in-
different to the danger of the work."
All this is now changed, the authori-
ties having intervened to prevent the
wholesale destruction of the eggs. The
Western Gull, however, is another
enemy of the Murre (the California
species;) it carries off and devours both
eggs and young. Mr. Bryant says the
Gull picks up a Murre's egg bodily and
carries it away in his capacious mouth,
but does not stick his bill intoi t to get
hold, as is stated by some writers,
whose observations must have referred
to the eggs already broken by the
Gulls or eggers.

The eggs of Brunnich's Murre can-
not be distinguished from those of the
common species. They show a wonder-
ful diversity of color, varying from
white to bluish or dark emerald-green.
Occasionally unmarked specimens are
found, but they are usually handsomely
spotted,blotched,and lined in patterns of
lilac, brown,and black over the surface.

207

THE CANADA GOOSE.

Just a common Wild Goose of
North America. In the spring
and fall you will see great flocks
of us flying overhead, an old
Gander in the lead, crying honk,
honk as loud as he can. Our
nests are only simple hollows in
the sand, on the shores of lakes
and rivers, around which are
placed a few sticks and twigs,
the five eggs laid on a layer of
gray down.

'l You're a Goose."

That's a polite way some peo-
ple have of calling another stu-
pid, but there are Geese and
Geese as well as men and men.
I am going to tell you about one
Goose that dearly loved her
master, and considering the way
he treated her you may conclude
she was a stupid Goose after all.

Well, this particular Goose
took such a fancy to her owner
that she would follow him about
like a dog, even to the village,
where she would wait outside
the barber's or other shop
which he might enter.

People noticed this, and in-
stead of calling the farmer by
his proper name began to speak
of him as " Mr. Goosey." This
angered the man and he ordered
the poor loving Goose to be
locked up in the poultry-yard.
Shortly after he went to an ad-

joining town to attend a meet-
ing ; in the midst of the busi-
ness he felt something warm and
soft rubbing against his legs;
he looked down and there stood
his Goose, with protruding neck
and quivering wings, gazing up
at him with pleasure and fond-
ness unutterable.

The people about shouted with
laughter, which so enraged her
master, that seizing his whip, he
twisted the thong of it about the
poor bird's neck, swung her
round and round, and supposing
her dead, angrily threw her body
out of the window.

A few days after Mr. Goosey
was seized with a severe illness,
which brought him to the verge
of the grave. He recovered,
however, and was able at length
to sit beside the open window.
There on the grass sat the Goose
gazing up at him with the same
old look of affection in her eyes.

uAm I never to be rid of that
stupid thing ? " he cried,but when
he was told that through all his
illness the faithful bird had sat
there opposite his window,
scarcely touching food, his hard
heart melted, and from thence-
forth Mr. Goosey treated his
feathered friend with the great-
est kindness.

208

THE CANADA GOOSE.

" Steering north, with raucous cry,

Through tracts and provinces of sky,

Every night alighting down

In new landscapes of romance,

Where darkling feed the clamorous clans

By lonely lakes to men unknown."

JORTH AMERICA at large
is the range of this mag-
nificent bird. Common Wild
Goose and Grey Goose
are its other names,
and by which it is generally known.
The Canada Goose is by far the most
abundant and universally distributed
of all North American Geese, and in
one or other of its varieties is found in
all the states and territories of our
country except perhaps Florida and
the Gulf States. In Texas, however,
it is plentiful during the winter
months. According to Hallock,
although by far the greater portion of
Wild Geese which pass the winter
with us, go north to breed, still in
suitable localities young are reared all
over the United States from North
Carolina to Canada. They nest in
the wilder parts of Maine, and are
especially numerous in Newfoundland
near the secluded pools and streams so
abundant throughout that island.
There, remote from man, they breed
undisturbed on the edges and islands
of the ponds and lakes. The Geese
moult soon after their arrival in the
spring, and, says Hallock, owing to the
loss of their pinion feathers are unable
to fly during the summer or breeding
seasons, but they can run faster than a
man on the marshes, or if surprised at
or near a pond, they will plunge in
and remain under water with their
bills only above the surface to permit
breathing, until the enemy has
passed by. They feed on berries and

the seeds of grasses. Both the old and
young become enabled to fly in Sep-
tember, and as soon after that as the
frost affects the berries, and causes the
seeds of the grasses on the marshes
and savannas to fall to the earth, or
otherwise when the snow falls and
covers the ground, they collect in
flocks and fly off to the southern shores
of the island, and from thence to the
Gulf of St. Lawrence, where they re-
main until December, and then
assembled, take flight in immense
flocks to the southern parts of Amer-
ica, to return in the spring.

The Canada Goose also breeds in
great numbers on the Mississipi river,
in which region it often places its nest
in trees, choosing generally a cotton-
wood stub not more than thirty feet in
height. The young are said to be
carried from the nest to the water in
the mother's bill, as are the young of
the Wood Duck. (See BIRDS, vol. ii,
p. 21).

The Wild Goose is often domesti-
cated, and in many portions of the
country they are bred in considerable
numbers. When these birds return
south at the commencement of winter
they are generally very thin and poor,
being quite worn out by their long
journey. They soon recuperate, how-
ever, and in a short time become fat
and are delicious eating. A full and ex-
cellent account of the method of cap-
turing the Canada Goose may be found
in Hallock' s " Gazetteer."

THE BROWN CREEPER.

I'm not a showy looking bird
like my friend the Woodpecker,
but my habits are something like
his — and so is my tail. He uses
his, you know, to aid him in
climbing trees, and so do I.
They call me the Creeper
because I am always creep-
ing over the timber in search of
insects. If you ever see a brown-
streaked little fellow, resembling
a Wren, traveling up a tree in
short stages, now stopping to
pick out an insect lurking in the
crevices of the bark, or returning
head downwards to pounce on
an unwary fly, that is your
humble servant the Brown
Creeper. Up again, you will
then see me creep, just like a
little mouse, uttering now and
then a low plaintive note ; clear
to the top I go, exploring every
nook and cranny, never using
my wings once.

Last summer a little boy in
the park wanted to get a good
look at me, so he very slyly crept
up to the tree which I was

exploring, thinking, perhaps,
that I was too busy to notice that
he was there. But I did see him,
for we little birds have to be
always on the watch against our
human, as well as feathered
enemies, so I just stood still and
peeked out at him from the other
side of the tree. Yery slily then
he moved around to that side,
and very slily did I move around
to the other, keeping the tree
trunk all the time between me
and his bright blue eyes.

" He's playing hide and seek
with me, Mama," he shouted,
and so pleased was the little
fellow that it was quite a while
before I flew away.

Like the Woodpecker, I prefer
a hole in a tree in which to build
my nest, but instead of boring
I look for a tree that has some
of its bark loose enough for me
to squeeze in. I line it with dry
grass, moss, and feathers and
see to it that the overhanging
bark shelters me and my four,
or six, white, red-speckled eggs.

212

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

BROWN CREEPER.
Life-size.

Copyright- by
Nature Study Pub. Co.r 1898, Chic

THE BROWN CREEPER.

LITTLE mite of a bird is
this pretty creature, which
many observers claim is
seldom seen, or, indeed, is
•known to few besides the
special student of ornithology and the
collector. We venture to assert that
any one with fairly good eyes can see
it almost any day creeping over the
timber in search of its insect food.
Besides seeing it in the deepest woods,
we often notice it in the open places
in parks, and in gardens and orchards
it is quite common. It commences
operations at the foot of a tree, and
travels upwards in short stages, " now
stopping to pick out an insect lurking
in the crevices of the bark with its
long, slender bill, or returning head
downwards to pounce on an unwary
fly. Up again it creeps, more like
a mouse than a bird, occasionally
uttering a low and plaintive note;
right to the top of the tree it mounts,
exploring every nook and cranny
likely to reward its search as it goes.
Now it creeps on the under side of a
projecting limb, then again on the top,
and although it will explore an entire
tree, still it but rarely uses its wings to
convey it from one part to another.
You will also find that it, like the
Woodpecker, endeavors to be on the
opposite side to you, and carry on its

explorations unseen." Curiosity, how-
ever, often seems to get the better of
the Creeper, and you will see its light
colored breast and sharp little head
peep trustfully at you and again vanish
from sight.

The Creeper is admirably adapted
to its ways of life. Its bill is formed
for obtaining its insect food, and its
tail supports it while climbing.

The Brown Creeper nests in early
summer, when insect life is most abun-
dant, and, like the Woodpecker, prefers
a hole for the purpose. This it lines
with dry grass, moss and feathers, and
makes a very warm and comfortable
home. The eggs are from five to eight,
white, spotted and speckled with red.
The Creeper is not migratory, and we
see it in the woods throughout the year.
It is hardy and lives sumptuously the
winter through. One who was very fond
of the little creatures said : "If the
Swallow were to visit us at this time,
it would undoubtedly perish, for the
air in winter is almost clear of insect
life ; but the little Creeper can live in
ease when the sun is at Capricorn, just
because he can climb so dexterously,
for the bark of trees abounds with in-
sects, and more particularly their eggs
and larvae, which lie there torpid until
called into life by the genial presence
of the vernal sun."

215

THE DOWNY WOODPECKER.

Another Woodpecker ? Yes,
there are such a tribe of us, you
know ; more than you can count
on your fingers and toes, as my
cousin the Red-Bellied Wood-
pecker said in the February
number of BIRDS.

The word toes reminds me
that I am not one of the three-
toed fellows he was so anxious
to tell about. I have four, as
you see, two before and two
behind. So have most of the
Woodpeckers. Should you be
looking out for me this summer
you will recognize me by my
four toes, the white band down
my back, and the two white
stripes on the side of my head.

My tongue you can't see, but
it is small, flat, short, and horny,
armed along the edges with
hooks. When I catch an insect
I do it by throwing my tongue
forward, out of my mouth. I
have an idea the insects consider
my treatment of them rather
rough. If I didn't eat them,
the wood-boring ones, would
destroy all the trees. My bill
isn't strong enough to bore in the
hard wood ; I only injure the
bark, no matter what some people
may say. The wood-eating
beetles, caterpillars, spiders,

daddy longlegs, grass-hoppers,
and flies, are all grist for my mill
— or bill, rather. I like beech-
nuts, too, when I can find them.

I'm the smallest of all the
Woodpecker family, quiet and
unobtrusive they say, in my
manners. I am sociable, how-
ever, and go about a great deal
in the company of other birds.
Mr. Nuthatch, Mr. Brown
Creeper, Mr. Titmouse, and Mr.
and Mrs. Wren are my especial
friends.

Can I drum ?

Indeed, yes. I wouldn't belong
to the Woodpecker family if I
couldn't. All I need is the stub
of a dead limb whose center is
hollow and whose shell is hard
and resonant. I will drum on
that with my bill for an hour at
a time, stopping now and then
to listen for a response from my
mate or a rival.

Early in the spring we
u Downies " pick a hole in a
dead tree, or in a post or rail of
a fence, in which we lay four,
five, or six glossy white eggs.
Sometimes it takes us a whole
week to chisel out that hole, and
we are so busy that a little boy
or little girl can get very near
without our minding it.

216

t-iom col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

DOWNEY WOODPECKER.
Life-size.

Cnt.yrii:lii by
Nature Stu.U i'ub. Co., 1898, C'hicag<i

THE DOWNY WOODPECKER

Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound,

Save a Wood-drummer tapping on a hollow beech tree.

HIS little Woodpecker is the
smallest of all those inhabit-
ing the United States. In
the shade trees about houses
and parks, and especially in orchards,
he may be frequenty seen tapping or
scratching on the limb of a tree with-
in two or three yards' distance, where
he has discovered a decayed spot
inhabited by wood-boring larvae or a
colony of ants, his food consisting of
ants, beetles, bugs, flies, caterpillars,
spiders, and grasshoppers. The late
Dr. Glover of the Department of
Agriculture, states that on one occasion
a Downy Woodpecker was observed
by him making a number of small,
rough-edged perforations in the bark of a
young ash tree, and upon examination
of the tree when the bird had flown, it
was found that wherever the bark had
been injured, the young larvae of a
wood-eating beetle had been snugly
coiled underneath and had been
destroyed by the bird. Beechnuts also
constitute a considerable portion of the
food of this bird. Dr. Merriam says
that in northern New York they feed
extensively on this nut, particularly in
fall, winter, and early spring.

This miniature Woodpecker is very
social in its habits, far more so than
other species, and is often found
associated with other birds, in the
woods, the orchards, along fence rows,
and not infrequently in the cities. He
is often seen in company with the
White-breasted Nuthatch (See Vol. II,
p. 1 1 8) and the Brown Creeper (Vol.
Ill, p. 214).

Early in the spring the " Downies "
retire to the woods to make their nests,
preferring the vicinity of running
water. The nest is begun about the

second or third week in May, and
consumes from two days to a week in
building. The holes are usually
excavated in dead willow, poplar, or
oak trees, and the height varies from
four to thirty feet, generally about
fifteen feet. The entrance to the nest
is about two inches in diameter, and
the depth of the nest hole varies from
eight to eighteen inches. The eggs
are four or five, rarely six, and are
pure glossy-white.

We know of no more interesting
occupation than to observe this bird.
It is fond of drumming on the stub of
a dead limb whose center is hollow,
and whose shell is hard and resonant.
Upon such places it will drum for an
hour at a time, now and then stopping
to listen for a response from its mate
or of some rival. At all times it is
unsuspicious of man, and when
engaged in excavating the receptacle
for its nest it continues its busy chisel-
ing, unheeding his near approach.

The Woopecker is wrongfully
accused of boring into the sound
timber, and, by letting in the water,
hastening its decay. As Dixon says :
" Alas ! poor harmless, unoffending
Woodpecker, I fear that by thy visits
to the trees thou art set down as the
cause of their premature decay. Full
well I know thy beak, strong as it is,
is totally incapable of boring into the
sound timber — full well do I know
that, even if thou wert guilty of such
offense, nothing would reward thy
labors, for thy prey does not lurk under
the bark of a healthy tree. Insects
innumerable bore through its bark
and hasten its doom, and it is thy
duty in Nature's economy to check
them in their disastrous progress."

219

THE NEW TENANTS.

BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.

And now the little Wrens are fledged
And strong enough to fly;

Wide their tiny wings they spread,
And bid the nest "good-bye."

Such a chattering as greeted Mrs.
Wren when she returned with a fine
black spider in her bill. All the
children talked at once. Bobbie alone
never uttered a word.

" You naughty boy," exclaimed
Mrs. Wren, turning to the crest-fallen
Pierre, " did I not tell you to take care
of your brothers and little sister ? The
idea of trying to fly before you have had
a lesson! I have a good mind to whip
every one of you," and the irate Mrs.
Wren very unjustly did indeed peck
every little head sharply with her bill.

Bobbie cowered in the nest much
too frightened to whimper or even
mention the injury to one of his legs
which he had sustained in his fall.

Mr. and Mrs. Wren the next day
proceeded to give the children a lesson
or two in flying.

" My tail is so stubby," wailed Em-
mett at the first trial, " it brings me
right down to the ground."

" Tho doth mine," lisped little Dor-
othy, " dess wish I had no tail at all,
so I do," at which the others laughed
very heartily.

Bobbie made a heroic effort to do as
did the rest, but at the first movement
sank back into the nest with a cry of
pain.

" Such fortitude ! " exclaimed Mrs.
Wren when it was found one of his
legs was broken, " not a whimper has
the little fellow made since his fall.
How heroic ! How like my dear, dear
papa ! " and Mrs. Wren laughed, and
then cried, from mingled pity and joy.

" H'm," commented Mr. Wren, "if
Bobbie had remembered the motto I
gave them before I left yesterday
morning, this accident wouldn't have

happened. Can you repeat it ? '' turn-
ing to the eldest of the brood.

" Be sure you're right, then go
ahead," shouted Pierre, totally forget-
ting he had not heeded the rule any
more than Bobbie.

" Yes, a safe rule to go by," said
Mr. Wren, gravely stroking his chin
with one claw. "Dear, dear," ruefully
examining the injured limb, "now the
the child will go stumping through
life like his grandpa. I only hope,"
with a dry cough, " that he'll not turn
out a rowdy and lose one eye, too."

" ' He jests at scars who never felt a
wound, '"loftily replied Mrs. Wren, who
seemed never to forget a quotation.
" For my part I am proud that one of
my boys should turn out to be such a
spirited little fellow. But there, Mr.
Wren, the children are calling you
from that bunch of weeds over yonder.
Go down to them, while I fetch a nice
canker-worm for Bobbie."

After a few days the lame Bobbie
was able to leave the nest and go hop-
ping around with the other children,
adding his feeble chur chur to theirs.
Mr. and Mrs. Wren led them from one
place to another, always among the
wreeds and shrubbery where they were
soon taughtto earn theirown livelihood.

" Moths, butterflies, gnats, flies,
ants, beetles, and bugs constitute our
bill of fare," said Mrs. Wren as they
went whisking along, " together with
thousand-legs, spiders, and worms. If
we didn't eat them they would destroy
the fruits in their seasons, so you see,
my children, what valuable citizens we
are in the world."

At nightfall Mr. and Mrs. Wren,
with their brood, flew to the crotch of

220

a tree, and in ten seconds every little
head was under a wing, and every
little Wren sound asleep.

" Well," said Mr. Wren one day,
" the children are old enough now to
take care of themselves, and we must
begin, my dear, to build a nest in which
once more to begin housekeeping."

" It will not be in an old tin pot this
time," replied Mrs. Wren, with a toss
of her head, " and furthermore, Mr.
Wren, I intend to have entirely new
furniture."

" Of course, of course," assented her
mate, " whoever heard of a Wren rais-
ing a second brood in the same nest?
We are much too neat and nice for
that, my dear."

u We," sniffed Mrs. Wren, ever ready
for -quarrel. " I'd like to know, Mr.
Wren, what you had to do with build-
ing the nest, I would, really! Humph!"
and Mrs. Wren flirted her tail over
her head and laughed shrilly.

"I brought the first sticks, my
dear," he answered mildly, " and didn't
I do all the house hunting ? Besides,
I forgot to tell you, that when looking
about in April, I found two other
apartments which, if the tin-pot had
not appeared suitable, I intended to
offer you. In order to secure them I
partly furnished each, so that other
house hunters would know they were
not 'to let.'"

" Humph ! " returned Mrs. Wren,
though exceedingly well pleased, u I'll
wager we'll find a Sparrow family in
each one of them."

" No we won't," chuckled Mr. Wren
" for the houses I selected were much
too small for Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow to
squeeze in."

" You clever fellow," exclaimed Mrs.
Wren, pecking him gleefully with her
bill. " I am proud of my hubby, I am,
indeed," and Mr. Wren laughed, and
hopped about, never hinting to his
innocent spouse that all the gentlemen
Wrens did the same thing every year.

The next day, while preening their
feathers, and getting ready for a visit
to the apartments Mr. Wren had
spoken of, a cry of distress smote upon
their ears.

" That sounds like our Dorothy's
voice," said Mrs. Wren, her little
knees knocking together in fright.

" It is Dorothy calling for help,"
assented Mr. Wren. " I left the
children in the orchard. Come, let us
fly over there as quickly as we can."

On the ground, under some bushes,
they found huddled their frightened
group of little ones, while above, on a
limb of a tree, perched Mr. and Mrs.
Jay, uttering at intervals their harsh
cry of jay, jay, jay.

" Its our Bobbie," cried Mrs. Wren,
aghast, after she had counted her
brood and found one of them missing,
" look at him fighting over there with
that young Jay."

" That's it, give it to him," screamed
the delighted Mr. Jay to his young
son, " hit him in the eye, my boy, hit
him in the eye."

Mr. and Mrs. Wren flew about Bob-
bie uttering cries of distress.

" Fair play, fair play," cried papa
Jay, flying down almost upon Mr.
Wren's back. " Give the young ones
a chance, or "

A loud, sharp twitter from the tree
top caused Mr. Jay to glance up.

" My old enemy," he exclaimed, his
crest falling at once, as a low crown
encircling a pompon of orange-red
showed itself among the green
branches. " That tyrant, Mr. King-
bird. He's always meddling in other
people's affairs, he is. I'd like to
wring his neck. Come, Mrs. Jay; come,
my son," he screamed, and off they
flew to boast of the victory among
their neighbors.

" I hope your little boy is not much
hurt," said Mr. Kingbird rather pomp-
ously, " I arrived just in the nick of
time, I think."

" Oh, my Bobby," wailed Mrs. Wren,
wiping the blood from his face, " that
dreadful Jay has scratched out one of
his eyes."

" How did it happen ? " sternly in-
quired Mr. Wren, " tell me the truth
or "

Dorothy interrupted her father with
loud sobbing.

" I — I was flirting," she stammered
"just a little, with young Mr. Jay, papa
— you know how handsome he is, and
bold — when Bobby steps up, and he
says — he says — "

"Well, go on, my little miss," said
Mr. Kingbird, deeply interested, "what
did your brother say ? "

" He said," wiping her eyes with a
corner of her wing, "that 'birds of a
feather flock together,' and a girl with
such a grandpa as I had should be
ashamed to associate with the son of a
robber and coward like Mr. Bluejay.
and so "

"And so young Mr. Jay pitched into
me," interrupted Bobbie, "and I
pitched into him. I'd a licked him,
too, Pop," he added, flourishing his
crippled leg, "if his old pa and ma
hadn't come up when they did and
told him to hit me in the eye."

"A chip off the old block, ma'am,"
said Mr. Kingbird, who had heard of
Mrs. Wren's fighting papa, " a chip off
the old block, I see. Well, good-day
all, good-day. As your son wisely
says 'birds of a feather flock together,'
and it wouldn't look well, you know,
for a person of my aristocratic appear-
ance to be seen in such humble com-
pany. So good-day, good-day," and
off the pompous fellow flew leaving
Mr. and Mrs Wren decidedly angry
though grateful.

Another week found the pair build-
ing a nest in the cavity of a maple
tree near the study window. To the
sticks and straws which Mr. Wren had
placed therein early in the season,
Mrs. Wren added spider webs and

cocoons, lining the nest, or furnishing
it as she called it, with horsehair and
the downiest goose and duck feathers
she could procure.

"There!" said she, when all was
completed and the first egg laid, "Mrs.
John can't sneer at our home now.
No coarse chicken feathers, or stable
straw this time, Mr. Wren. We will
use the other apartment you chose for
the third brood, for three we are to
have this summer as well as Mrs. John.
When we go south in November, our
family I intend shall be as large as
hers."

Mr. Wren made no answer, but,
possibly being such an uncommonly
wise bird, inwardly marveled over that
imperious force, that wonderful . in-
stinct which made it necessary for
them and all the feathered tribe to
reproduce their kind.

Very carefully, one winter's day,
Bridget removed the nest from the tin-
pot and wreathing it in ribbons, hung
it above her chest of drawers in the
the attic.

" It do same," said she to the chil-
dren, who prided themselves upon their
knowledge of the looks and habits of
the House Wren, " that in sthudoin
the birds this summer I do be afther
learnin' a lesson I wasn't expectin'
meself at all."

"A lesson ? " said they curiously.

" Indade! Its young ye's aire, me
darlint's, to be thinkin' of the same,
but sure its not meself that'll ever be
forgetten the patience, ingenuity,
industhry, and conjoogal love of
the wee pair. Faith but it was a
purty sight. Dumb animals indade !
Niver sphake to me of dumb animals,
for be St. Patrick, if them two blessed
little crathers didn't talk, schold,make
love, and sing in a langwidge all their
own, then me grandfather's name
wasn't Dinnis, and I'm not Bridget
O'Flaherty, at all, at all."
[THE END.]

222

From col. F. M. Woodruff.

CHICAGO COLOHTVPE CO.. CHIC

OLD SQUAW DUCK.
/£ Life-size.

Mature Miuly Tub. On., 1S98, Chicago

THE OLD SQUAW DUCK.

' 7«>) ERE is an instance where the
— * female is the head of the
family indeed, for by
~ l^^y common consent the
name includes the
male of this species. It has numerous
other names, however, as Old Wife,
South-Southerly, Long-tailed Duck,
Swallow-tailed Duck, Old Injun
(Massachusetts and Connecticut ;) Old
Molly, Old Billy, Scolder, (New Hamp-
shire and Massachusetts.)

The habitat of the Old Squaw is the
northern hemisphere; in America, south
in winter to nearly the southern border
of the United States. It is distributed
throughout the northern portions of the
globe, but makes its summer home in
Arctic regions. George Harlow Clarke,
Naturalist, Peary Polar Expedition, in
a recent article mentioned that, " in
June the Old Squaw's clanging call
resounded everywhere along shore, and
the birds themselves were often
perceived gliding to and fro amid the
ice cakes drifting with the tide between
the main ice-floe and the land." It is
a resident in Greenland and breeds in
various places in Iceland. The nests
are made on the margins of lakes or
ponds, among low bushes or tall grass,
are constructed of grasses,and generally,
but not always, warmly lined with
down and feathers. The eggs are
from six to twelve in number. In the
United States the Long-tail is found
only in winter. Mr. Nelson found it
to be an abundant winter resident on
Lake Michigan, where the first
stragglers arrived about the last of
October, the main body arriving about

a month later and departing about the
the first of April, a few lingering until
about the last jof the month.

The words south - south - southerly,
which some have fancied to resemble
its cry, and which have accordingly
been used as one of its local names,
did not, to the ear of Dr. Brewer, in
the least resemble the sounds which
the bird makes ; but he adds that the

names "Old Wives" and

Old

Squaws " as applied to the species are
not inappropriate, since when many
are assembled their notes resemble a
confused gabble. Hallock says that
most of the common names of this
Duck are taken from its noisy habits,
for it is almost continually calling.

Mr. E. P. Jaques, asks, in Field and
Stream, " What has become of our
Waterfowl ? " assuming that their
numbers have greatly diminished.
" The answer is a simple one," he
goes on to say ; " they have followed
conditions. Take away their breeding
and feeding grounds and the birds
follow. Bring back their breeding and
feeding grounds and lo ! the birds re-
appear. For the past five years water-
fowl have been about as scarce in the
Dakotas as in Illinois or Indiana. The
lakes were dry and conditions were
unfavorable for them. In the spring of
1897 the lakes filled up once more.
For the most part the bottoms of the
lakes were wheat stubbles. This furn-
ished food for the spring flight and
thousands of birds nested there. When
the wheat was gone the aquatic growth
took its place and for every thousand
Ducks that tarried there in the spring,
ten thousand appeared in the fall."

225

THE WHITE-FACED GLOSSY IBIS.

I

oil

BISES, of which there are about
thirty species, are distributed
throughout the warmer parts
of the globe. Four species
occur in North America.
According to Chapman, they are silent
birds, and live in flocks during the
entire year. They feed along the
shores of lakes, bays, and salt-water
lagoons, and on mud flats over which
the tide rises and falls.

The beautiful, lustrous White-faced
Glossy Ibis inhabits the south-
western United States and tropical
America. It is found as far north as
Kansas, and west through New Mexico
and Arizona to California. In southern
Texas it is very abundant, and in some
localities along the banks of the Rio
Grande swarms by thousands. Dr. J.
C. Merrill in May, visited a large
patch of tule reeds, growing in a
shallow lagoon about ten miles from
Fort Brown, in which large numbers
of this Ibis and several kinds of Herons
were breeding. The reeds grew about
six feet above the surface of the water,
and were either beaten down to form a
support for the nests, or dead and
partly floating stalks of the previous
year were used for that purpose. Dr.
Merrill states that it was impossible to
estimate the number of Ibises and
different Herons nesting here. " Both
nests and eggs of the Ibises were
quite unlike those of any of the

Herons, and could be distinguished at
a glance. The nests were made of
broken bits of dead tules, supported by
and attached to broken and upright
stalks of living ones. They were
rather well and compactly built, quite
unlike the clumsy platforms of the
Herons. The eggs were nearly always
three in number, and at this date were
far advanced toward hatching ; many
of the nests contained young of all
sizes.

The walk of the Ibis is quiet and
deliberate, though it can move over
the ground with considerable speed
whenever it chooses. Its flight is lofty
and strong, and the bird has a habit of
uttering a loud and peculiar cry as it
passes through the air.

The Ibis was formerly invested with
sacerdotal honors by the ancient
Egyptians, and embalmed and honored
after death with a consecrated tomb,
in common with the bull and the cat.
The bird probably owes its sacred
character to the fact that its appearance
denotes the rising of the Nile, an
annual phenomenon on which depends
the prosperity of the whole country.

The food of the Ibis consists mostly
of mollusks, both terrestrial and
aquatic, but it will eat worms, insects,
and probably the smaller reptiles.

The sexes have similar plumage,
but the female is smaller than her
mate.

226

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

WHITE-FACED GLOSSY IBIS.
3/i Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co.. 1898, Chicago.

SOME LOVERS OF NATURE.

Our Music's in the Hills. — EMERSON.

The groves were God's first temples. — BRYANT.

Nature, the vicar of the Almighty Lord. — CHAUCER.

The liquid notes that close the eye of day, (the Nightingale). — MILTON.

When spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil. — BISHOP HEBER.

O, for a seat in some poetic nook,

Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook. — LEIGH HUNT.

By shallow rivers, to whose falls

Melodious birds sing madrigals. — CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. — WORDSWORTH.

To him who in the love of nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language. — BRYANT.

And this one life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything. — SHAKESPEARE.

And now 'twas like all instruments,

Now like a lonely flute ;

And now it is an angel's song,

That makes the heavens be mute. — COLERIDGE.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture in the lonely shore,

There is society, where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar ;

I love not Man the less, but Nature more. — BYRON.

In June 'tis good to be beneath a tree
While the blithe season comforts every sense;
Steeps all the brain in rest, and heals the heart,
Brimming it o'er with sweetness unawares,
Fragrant and silent as that rosy snow
Wherewith the pitying apple-tree fills up
And tenderly lines some last-year's Robin's nest — LOWELL.

229

THE ARKANSAS KINGBIRD.

NE of the difficulties of the
scientific ornithologist is to
differentiate species. This
bird is often confounded
with the Flycatchers, and
for a very good reason, its habits being
similar to those of that family. It is
almost a counterpart of the Kingbird,
(See BIRDS, vol. ii, p. 157) possessing
a harsher voice, a stronger flight, and,
if possible, a more combative, pugna-
cious spirit. It is a summer resident,
is common in the western United
States, and occasionally a straggler
far eastward, migrating southward in
winter to Guatemala.

Col. Goss, in his history of the birds
of Kansas, one of the most compre-
hensive and valuable books ever pub-
lished on ornithology, says that the
nesting places and eggs of this species
are essentially the same as those of
the Kingbird. They are brave and
audacious in their attacks upon the
birds of prey and others intruding upon
their nesting grounds. Tneir com-
bative spirit, however, does not con-
tinue beyond the breeding season.
They arrive about the first of May,
begin laying about the middle of that
month, and return south in September.
The female is smaller than the male
and her plumage is much plainer.

Mr. Keyser " In Birdland " tells an
interesting story which illustrates one
of the well known characteristics of
the Kingbird. " One day in spring,"
he says, u I was witness to a curious
incident. A Red-headed Woodpecker

had been flying several times in and
out of a hole in a tree where he (or
she) had a nest. At length, when he
remained within the cavity for some
minutes, I stepped to the tree and
rapped on the trunk with my
cane. The bird bolted like a small
cannon ball from the orifice,
wheeled around the tree with a
swiftness that the eye could scarcely
follow, and then dashed up the lane to
an orchard a short distance away. But
he had only leaped out of the frying-
pan into the fire. In the orchard he
had unconsciously got too near a King-
bird's nest. The Kingbird swooped
toward him and alighted on his back.
The next moment the two birds, the
Kingbird on the Woodpecker's back,
went racing across the meadow like a
streak of zigzag lightning, making a
clatter that frightened every echo from
its hiding place. That gamy Fly-
catcher actually clung to the Wood-
pecker's back until he reached the
other end of the meadow. I can-
not be sure, but he seemed to be hold-
ing to the Woodpecker's dorsal feathers
with his bill. Then, bantam fellow
that he was, he dashed back to the
orchard with a loud chippering of
exultation. ' Ah, ha ! ' he flung
across to the blushing Woodpecker,
' stay away the next time, if you don't
fancy being converted into a beast of
burden?"

Eggs three to six, usually four,
white to creamy white, thinly spotted
with purple to dark reddish brown,
varying greatly in size.

230

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

ARKANSAS KING-BIRD.
% Life-size.

Copyright by
Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.

QUEER RELATIONS.

N English terrier, despoiled of
her litter of puppies, wan-
dered around quite inconsol-
able. A brood of duck-
lings one day attracted
her attention. Notwithstanding their
quacks of protest, she seized them in
her mouth, bore them to her kennel,
and with the most affectionate anxiety
followed them about, giving them, in
her own fashion, a mother's care.

When the ducklings at length took
to water, her alarm knew no bounds.
"You dreadful children," her sharp
barks seemed to say when they returned
to land, and taking them in her mouth
bore them one by one back to safety,
as she thought, to the kennel.

The year following, when again
deprived of her puppies, she adopted
two cock-chickens, rearing them with
the same care she had bestowed upon
the ducklings. Their voices, however,
when they grew older, greatly annoyed
her, and by various means their foster-
mother endeavored to stifle their
crowing.

A hen that had selected an unused
manger in which to lay her eggs, and
rear her brood, found that the barn cat
had also selected the same place in
which to pass her hours of repose.
The hen made no objection to the
presence of Mrs. Tabby, and vice-verse,
so that a strong frendship in time grew
up between the two.

Things went on very smoothly, the
hen placidly sitting on her eggs, while
Mrs. Tabby came and went at will,

spending at least half her time beside
her companion as friendly as though
she were a sister cat.

Vainly did the hen sit, vainly did she
turn her eggs. All the warmth in the
world would not have hatched a chick
from the stale eggs beneath her.

Mrs. Tabby, however, had better
luck. To the hen's amazement she
found beneath her very nose one
morning five squirming furry little
creatures which might havebeen chicks
but were not. Certainly they were
young of some sort, she reflected, and
with true motherly instinct she lent
her aid to their proper bringing up.

The kittens thrived, but unfor-
tunately, when still of tender age were
deprived, by death of their mother.
All but one of her offspring found
comfortable homes elsewhere, and that
one received the devoted attention of
the hen during the whole of that
summer.

" To see it going between the house
and barn clucking for the kitten," says
Dr. Beadner in Our Animal Friends,
u was indeed a funny sight, and quite
as remarkable to see the kitten run to
her when she made the peculiar call
that chickens understand means some-
thing to eat. At night and during
the resting hours of the daytime, kittie
would crawl under the warm wings of
her foster mother ; and the brooding
hen and her nestling kitten were happy
and contented, little dreaming and
caring less that they were so far from
being related to each other."

233

ONE AUDUBON SOCIETY.

IVE HUNDRED invitations
were sent out for a novel re-
ception by the Wisconsin
Audubon Society a while ago.
One of the directors lent a large, hand-
some house, and six milliners were
invited to send hats unadorned with
aigrettes or birds. Ostrich plumes,
quills and cock's-tails were not dis-
barred. Twenty-five other milliners
applied for space, "everybody " went,
and a great many tastefully trimmed
hats were sold. People who had never
before heard of the Audubon Society
became, through the newspaper reports
of the affair, greatly interested in its
object, and the society itself greatly
encouraged through the fact that by
their hats and bonnets many of the
" best " people of Milwaukee were
ready to proclaim it no longer good
form to wear the plumes or bodies of
wild birds.

"Certificates of heartlessness," a
writer in Our Dumb Animals calls them
and we know of no better appellation
to apply. Women of fashion, says the
same writer, have been urged to use
the power which they possess — and it
is a power greater than that of law —
to bring this inhumanity to an instant
stop. The appeals for the most part
were in vain. Birds continue to be
slaughtered by millions upon millions,
simply for the gratification of a silly
vanity of which intelligent women
should be ashamed. Whole species of
the most beautiful denizens of field
and forest, woodland and shore, have

been almost or quite exterminated.

The lady has surely a beautiful face,
She has surely a queenly air;

The bonnet had flowers and ribbon and lace;

But the bird has added the crowning grace —
It is really a charming affair.

Is the love of a bonnet supreme over all,
In a lady so faultlessly fair?

The Father takes heed when the Sparrows fall,

He hears when the starving nestlings call —
Can a tender woman not care?

— SUSAN E. GAMMONS, Our Dumb Animals.

234

Song birds have been driven further
and further from the dwellings of men;
our country is stripped of one of its
least costly and most charming delights
and all that women may deck them-
selves in conformity with a fad.

A bill for the protection of birds
was passed on March 24, by the Sen-
ate of the United States, introduced
into the House of Representatives on
March 25, and referred to the Com-
mittee on Agriculture. It is entitled
"An Act for the Protection of Song
Birds."

We confess, says the same writer, to
a feeling of humiliation when reading
this bill, because it seems a just indict-
ment of the women of America on a
charge of willful, wanton, reckless in-
humanity. That such legislation
should be made necessary, through
vanity alone, ought in our estimation,
to bring the blush of shame to every
good woman's cheek.

" I didn't think," is the usual reply
of the fair sex, when approached on
the subject. ' " I didn't think." Aye
you didn't think, but that plea can no
longer avail when press and pulpit, in
the name of humanity, so earnestly
and eloquently plead with you to
spare the birds.

If compassion for the little creature
whose life went out in agony, to sup-
ply that ornament above your brow
does not move you to abstain from
wearing such in the future, then the
knowledge that some of the " best "
people in the country consider it " bad
form," perhaps will. — E. K. M.

TJT

10

92

From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.

23

26

Copyriglit by
Natu'-e Stu<lv Pub. Co., 18!«, Chicago.

24
EGGS.

Life-size.

1. Cat Bird. 2. Robin. 3. Chickadee. 4. Long- billed Marsh Wren. 5. Brown Thrasher. 6. Yellow Warbler. 7. Red-eyed Vireo. 8. Log-
gerhead Shrike 9. Cedar Waxwing. 10. Cliff Swallow. 11. Martin. 12. Rose-breasted Grosbeak. 13. Scarlet Tanager. 14. Townee.
Sparrow. 16. Chipping Sparrow. 17. Vesper Sparrow. 18. Great-tailed Crackle. 19. Bronzed Crackle. SO. Baltimore Oriole. 21. Orchard C
ole. 22. Meadow Lark. 23. Red-winged Blackbird. 24. Blue Jay. 25. Prairie Horned I.a-k. 26. Wood Pewee.

THE YOUTH OF BUDDHA.

From "THE; LIGHT OF ASIA. "

.... In mid-play the boy would oft-times pause,
Letting the deer pass free; would oft-times yield
His half-won race because the laboring steeds
Fetched painful breath; or if his princely mates
Saddened to lose, or if some wistful dream
Swept o'er his thoughts. And ever with the years
Waxed this compassionateness of our Lord,
Even as a great tree grows from two soft leaves
To spread its shades afar; but hardly yet
Knew the young child of sorrow, pain, or tears,
Save as strange names for things not felt by kings,
Nor ever to be felt. But it befell
In the royal garden on a day of spring,
A flock of wild Swans passed, voyaging north
To their nest-places on Himala's breast.
Calling in love-notes down their snowy line
The bright birds flew, by fond love piloted;
And Devadatta, cousin of the prince,
Pointed his bow, and loosed a willful shaft
Which found the wide wing of the foremost Swan
Broad-spread to glide upon the free blue road,
So that it fell, the bitter arrow fixed,
Bright scarlet blood-gouts staining the pure plumes.
Which seeing, Prince Siddartha took the bird
Tenderly up, rested it in his lap —
Sitting with knees crossed, as Lord Buddha sits —
And, soothing with a touch the wild thing's fright,
Composed its ruffled vans, calmed its quick heart,
Caressed it into peace with light kind palms
As soft as plantain leaves an hour unrolled;
And while the left hand held, the right hand drew
The cruel steel forth from the wound, and laid
Cool leaves and healing honey on the smart.

237

SUMMARY.

Page 206.

BRUNNICH'S MURRE.— Uria lomvia.

RANGE — Coasts and islands of the north
Atlantic and eastern Arctic oceans, south on
the Atlantic coast of North America to New
Jersey.

NEST — On the bare rock, often on the narrow
shelves of cliffs.

EGGS— One.

Page 210.

CANADA GOOSE. — Branta canadensis.
Other names: " Common Wild Goose," " Grey
Goose," "Honker."

RANGE — North America at large.

NEST — Of dried grasses, raised about twelve
inches from the ground ; has been found in
trees.

EGGS — Generally five, of a pale dull greenish
color.

Page 214.

BROWN CREEPER. — Certhia familiaris
americana.

RANGE — Eastern North America, breeding
from northern border of Uaited States north-
ward.

NEST — In holes of trees lined with dry grass,
moss, and feathers.

EGGS— Five to eight.

Page 218.

DOWNY WOODPECKER. — Dryobates
pubcscens. Other name: "Little or Lesser
'Sapsucker.' This, however, is a misnomer.

RANGE — Northern and eastern North Amer-
ica, and sporadically the western portions — Col-
orado, Utah, Nevada, California, etc.

NEST — In an excavation in a tree.

EGGS — Four or five, rarely six, pure glossy
white.

Page 223.

OLD SQUAW DUCK.—Clangula hycmalis.
Other names: South Southerly ; Long-tailed
Duck ; Swallow-tailed Duck ; Old Injun (Mass.
and Conn.) Old Molly; Old Billy; Scolder (New
Hampshire and Massachusetts.)

RANGE — Northern hemisphere; south in
winter to nearly the southern border of the
United States.

NEST — On the margins of lakes and ponds,
among low bushes or low grass, warmly lined
with down and feathers.

EGGS — From six to twelve, of pale, dull gray-
ish pea-green.

Page 227.

WHITE- FACED GLOSSY IBIS.— Plegadis
autumnalis.

RANGE — Tropical and sub-tropical regions
generally ; rare and of local distribution in the
southeastern United States and West Indies.

NEST — Of rushes, plant stems, etc., in reedy
swamps on low bushes.

EGGS — Three, rather deep, dull blue.

Page 231.

ARKANSAS KINGBIRD.— Tyrannus verti-
calis. Other name: Arkansas Flycatcher.

RANGE — Western United States from the
plains to the Pacific, and from British Columbia
south through Lower California and western
Mexico to Guatemala.

NEST — On branches of trees, in open and
exposed situations, six to twenty feet from the
ground ; built of stems of weeds and grasses.

EGGS — Three to six, white, thinly spotted
with purple to dark redish-brown.

238

VOLUME III. JANUARY TO JUNE, 1898.

INDEX.

Apple Blossom Time pages 153

Audubon Society, One u 234

Aviaries ". " 121-2

Birds, Foreign Song Birds in Oregon " 123

Birds, in the Schools " 20

Birds, Hints on the Study of Winter " 109

Birds, Interesting Facts About " 100

Birds' Answer, The " 83

Bird Study, The Fascinations of " 164

Birds, Let Us All Protect the Eggs of the " 154

Birds, Pairing in Spring " 189

Bird, Only a " 73

Bird Superstitions and Winged Portents " 172

Bird Day " 82

Birds, a Friend of . " 43

Bird, The Mound " 114

Bird Lovers, Some _.._. . ". 81

Bittern, Least, Botaimis exilis u 46-47

Bob White, Colinus virginianus '' 16-18-19-34

Buddha, The Youth of " 237

Christmas, Where Missouri Birds Spend " 84

Cockatoo, Rose, Gacatua Icadbcatcri " 29-30-31

Coot, American, Fulica amcricana " 96-98-99

Contentment '' 163

Crane, Queer doings of a " 44

Creeper, Brown, Certhia familiaris americana " 212-214-215

Dickcissel, Spiza amcricana " 146-147-149

Duck, Bald Pate, Anas americana " 48-50-51

Duck, Black, Anas obscura " 86-87

Duck, Pintail, Dafila acuta " 1 76-8-9

Duck, Old Squaw, G languid hy emails " 223-5

Duck Farms, Eider " 113

Egg, What is An " 60

Eggs " *55-i95-235

Feathers or Flowers? ; . ; . . " 180

Finch, Purple, Garpodacus purpurcus " 54—55

Flycatcher, Arkansas, Tyrannus vcrticalis " 230-231

Gnat-catcher, Blue-gray, Polioptila caerulea " 94~95

Goose, Canada, Branta canadensis u 208—210—211

Goose That Takes a Hen Sailing " 194

Grouse, Dusky, Dendragapus obscurus " 150-151

Hawk, Sparrow, Falco sparverius " 105-6-7

Heron, Great Blue, Ardea herodias " 190-1-3

Ibis, White-Faced Glossy, Plegadis guarauna " 226-7

I Can but Sing » 186

June " 201-202

Kindness, a Foster Brother's , - pages 194

Kingbird, Arkansas, Tyrannus verticalis " 230

March . ,;-. -V . -^ .;.;'. .... .... " 82

Memory, Bird Songs of . . 124

Murre, Brunnich's, Uria lomvia " 206-7

Music, Color in . . ", 161-2

Nature, Some Lovers of " 229

Neighbor, Our " 203

Nests, Birds' " 204

Nest, Life in the. " 69

Nightingale, Motacilla luscinia " 136-8-9

Nightingale, To a . . " 141

Ovenbird, Seiunis aurocapillns " 126—7

Owl, The Early " 12

Owl, Saw-Whet, Nyctala acadica " 61-2-3

Owl, Short-eared, Asia accipitrinus " 25-6-7

Paradise, Birds of . . " 140

Partridge, Mountain, Oreortyx pictus " 34-35

Parrot, Double YeHow Headed, Conurns mexicamis .... " 181-2-3

Partnership, a Forced u 60

Partridge, Scaled, Callipepla squamata " 114-115

Petrel, The Stormy, Oce unites oceanicus " 88-90-91-92

Pheasant, Silver, Phasianus nycthcmcrus u iio-m

Pigeons, The " 4

Pigeon, Crowned, Golumbidce goura " 6-7

Pigeon, Passenger, Ectopistes migratorius " 21-22-23

Pleas for the Speechless " 33

Plover, Snowy, Aegialitis nivosa " 70-?1

Prairie Hen, Lesser, Tympanuchus pallidicinctus " 74~75

Queer Relations " 233

Rhea, South American, Rhca amcrlcana " 166-7-8

Sandpiper, Bartramian, Bartramia longicauda " 134-5

Sparrow, English " 175

Sparrow, ^o^Passerellailiaca " 14-15

Spoonbill, Roseate, Ajaja ajaja " 142-3-5

Spring Thoughts ? ...... " 185

Stilt, Black-necked, Himantopus mexicanus u 174-5

Summary pages 40-80-120-160-200-238

Superstitions, Irish Bird pages 132

Swan, Black, Cygnus " 65-66-67

Tenants, The New pages 37-77-117-157-197-220

Thoughts pages 146

Vireo, Red-Eyed, Vireo olivaceus " 8-io-n

Warbler, Bay-breasted, Dendroica castanca " 170-171

Warbler, Magnolia, Dendroica maculosa " 186-187

Woodpecker, Arctic Three-toed, Picoides arcticus " 128-130-131

Woodpecker, Downy, Dryobates pubescens " 216-218-219

Woodpecker, Ivory-billed, Campephilus principalis .... " ' 101-102-103

Woodpecker, Red-bellied, Melanerpes carolinus ..... " 56-58-59

White, Gilbert, and " Selbourne" " 41 "

Wooing Birds' Odd Ways " 52