Title: Birds and All Nature, Vol. VI, No. 5, December 1899 - Illustrated by Color Photography
Author: Various
Language: English
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  BIRDS AND ALL NATURE.

  ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

  VOL. VI. DECEMBER, 1899. NO. 5.



  CONTENTS.


                                                     Page
  THE TRAMPS OF BIRDLAND.                             195
  THE NARCISSUS.                                      199
  FASHION'S CLAMOR.                                   200
  COCA.                                               203
  OUR NATIVE WOODS.                                   205
  BIRD WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD.                      206
  THE RED-TAILED HAWK.                                209
  A TRANSPLANTING.                                    210
  TWO BIRD LOVERS.                                    212
  WINTER TIME.                                        212
  THE MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT.                         215
  BOB-O-LINK.                                         215
  A STUDY OF THE COLOR PHOTOGRAPH.                    216
  THE PILEATED WOODPECKER.                            217
  THE LYRE-BIRD.                                      218
  ROBERT AND PEEPSY--THE TWINS.                       221
  THE COWBIRD.                                        224
  THE LEGEND OF SAINT SILVERUS.                       228
  BIRDS GATHERED HIS ALMOND CROP.                     228
  STORIES FROM BIRDLAND.                              229
  DECEMBER.                                           229
  THE WILD CAT.                                       230
  CHRISTMAS ONCE IS CHRISTMAS STILL.                  233
  THE EUROPEAN SQUIRREL.                              234
  "IN ORDERS GRAY."                                   237
  INDEX VOL. VI.
  INDEX VOLS. I., II., III., IV., V., VI.



THE TRAMPS OF BIRDLAND.

ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.


The birds had met in council that morning, and from the great
chattering and chirping I judged some very serious question was up
before the board.

"Something must be done," Mr. Red-eyed Vireo was saying, as I
sauntered down to the orchard and seated myself beneath an apple
tree, "we have stood the imposition long enough. Every year we meet
and draw up resolutions, with many 'whereases' and 'wherefores,' and
'aforesaids'--resolutions with nothing resolute about them. To-day, I
say, something must be done."

Mr. Wood-thrush, Mr. Towhee, Mr. Chipping Sparrow, Mr. Yellow-breasted
Chat, Mr. Song Sparrow, and several Mr. Flycatchers, beside a number of
other small birds, nodded their heads in unequivocal assent.

"We have enemies enough," continued Mr. Vireo, "how many only Mother
Nature knows. Even in the darkness of night we are not safe from
the owls, skunks, snakes, and other robbers, and in the day-time,
besides our feathered foes, we have the ruthless 'collector,' and the
ever-present bad boy. Enemies without are bad enough, but to have
in our very midst a--a--" Mr. Vireo paused, presumably choking with
indignation, but really because he had quite forgotten what he had
prepared to say.

"Hear, hear!" cried the assembled birds, making a great clamor and
clatter in order that the speaker might have a chance to slyly consult
his notes.

"A tribe of social outcasts--tramps, in fact," continued Mr. Vireo,
"whose females, disliking the cares of family life, build no homes of
their own, but instead deposit their eggs in some other bird's nest
that their young may be hatched and reared without any trouble to
themselves. Our mates have enough to do to bring up their own families,
so I say the tribe of cowbirds must be driven from this community, or
else, like the rest of us, be forced to work."

"H'm! yes," sighed Mr. Towhee, "that's what we say every year, and
every year the conditions remain just the same. The cowbirds are tramps
by nature, and you can't change their natures, you know."

I judged, from the great chattering and chirping, that grave exceptions
were taken to this remark, but quiet at length being restored, Mr.
Towhee continued:

"My mate says it depends upon ourselves whether the whole tribe shall
be exterminated. She, for one, does not intend to hatch out any more of
Mrs. Cowbird's babies. This spring we found one of her speckled eggs in
our nest, but it wasn't hatched out, I warrant you. We simply pierced
the shell with our bills, picked it up by the opening, and carried it
out of the nest."

A round of applause greeted these remarks, much to Mr. Towhee's
gratification.

"It strikes me," said Mr. Indigo Bunting, "that the whole fault
lies with our mates. From the size and different markings of Mrs.
Cowbird's eggs they can always be distinguished from their own.
No self-respecting bird should ever brood one; in that way we can
exterminate the race."

"'Tis the mother-instinct, I presume," said Mr. Vireo, "or the kindly
nature of some females, not to neglect a forlorn little egg abandoned
by its parents at their very door. Ah," he broke off, pointing in a
certain direction, "is not that a sad sight for an affectionate husband
to see?"

On a fence near by stood two birds--a very small one, with a worried,
harassed air, endeavoring upon tip-toe to drop into the mouth of the
great fat baby towering above her a green caterpillar which she held in
her bill.

"That is Mrs. Vireo, my mate, and her foster child," continued the
speaker. "The egg of the cowbird being larger than her own, received
all the warmth of her breast, so that her own little ones perished
in the shell. It takes all her time and strength to feed that great
hulking baby, who will accept her nursing long after he can take care
of himself, then desert her to join his own tribe in the grain fields."

"Last year my mate had no better sense than to brood one of Mrs.
Cowbird's eggs," said Mr. Chipping Sparrow. "It emerged from the
shell first, of course, and in attending to its everlasting clamor
for food she neglected her own birdlings so that all but one of them
died. That one has always been a puny, weak little thing. We were
greatly astonished, I assure you, at the size of our first offspring,
neither of us being acquainted with the habits of Mrs. Cowbird, and
disappointed that in neither feather nor feature it resembled her or
me."

"I got the best of the lazy tribe, this year," chuckled Mr. Yellow
Warbler. "Our nest was just completed, and my mate had deposited one
egg, when in our absence one day Mrs. Cowbird sneaked in, laid one
of her own beside it and then stealthily crept away. My mate said
nothing, and might have brooded it with her own, but the next day the
same thing, in our absence, occurred again; another female of the lazy
tribe, I presume, finding our home quite to her liking."

"Two to one," said the Chat with a laugh, "that was not fair. Well,
what did you do then?"

"Why we concluded to abandon the nest and build another, but on second
thought gave up that plan. We simply built a floor over the lower
portion of the nest, and on the upper floor, or second story, so to
speak, my mate deposited four eggs, those, with the one shut in with
the Cowbird's, making her full complement, you see."

"It would have been far easier, it seems to me," said Mr. Towhee, "to
have thrown Mrs. Cowbird's eggs out of the nest as we did. But then you
and your mate must learn by experience and you will know better what to
do the next time."

"Doubtless," said Mr. Yellow-throat, a trifle stiffly, "but my mate is
a very dainty bird and wouldn't for a moment think of using a cradle
for her little ones that had been occupied, even for a short time, by
two female tramps."

"Hm!" replied Mr. Towhee, in his turn not altogether pleased, "that
accounts probably for the number of abandoned nests one meets with
every year, containing a speckled egg of Mrs. Cowbird's. Too dainty,
indeed!"

"Did you ever happen to see one of the homeless creatures seeking
somebody else's nest in which to lay her egg?" interrupted Mr. Chipping
Sparrow, scenting a quarrel in the air. "I saw one in the woods once
sneaking through the undergrowth, and when Mr. and Mrs. Red-eyed Vireo
had flown away for a little time, out she crept, inspected their nest,
and, finding it to her taste, entered and deposited her egg. She felt
sure, you see, that Mrs. Vireo had a kind heart and would hatch out the
foundling with her own."

"And she did," sadly said Mr. Vireo, "she did."

"The company the tribe keeps is no better than themselves," said Mr.
Wood Thrush. "During the breeding-season you will see the grackles,
and red-winged blackbirds, and the cowbirds chattering and gossipping
together, as they roost for the night. They are a lawless crew. No
self-respecting bird will be found in such company."

"I saw a number of the cowbird tribe perching on the backs of a bunch
of cattle in the pasture-land to-day," said a very young Mr. Flycather.
"What do you suppose they were doing?"

"Searching for parasites," gruffly said an old bird; "that's the reason
they are called cowbirds. They were once called 'buffalo birds' for the
same reason."

No one spoke for the space of several minutes.

"If there are no further remarks," said Mr. Red-eyed Vireo, "the
question will be put. All in favor--"

"What is the question, Mr. Chairman?" meekly asked a very young Mr.
Flycatcher.

"Is it or is it not our duty to destroy every egg of Mrs. Cowbird's we
find in our nests, thus forcing the tribe to build homes of their own
in which to bring up their families? All in favor--"

"Ay," chirruped every bird at once.

"Contrary minded?"

There was no response, so the meeting was declared adjourned.



  [Illustration: FROM MAYFLOWER, BY PER.
                 NARCISSUS.
                 CHICAGO:
                 A. W. MUMFORD PUBLISHER.]

THE NARCISSUS.

WILLIAM KERR HIGLEY, Secretary of The Chicago Academy of Sciences.


The genus of plants called Narcissus, many of the species of which are
highly esteemed by the floriculturist and lover of cultivated plants,
belongs to the Amaryllis family (_Amaryllidaceæ._)

This family includes about seventy genera and over eight hundred
species that are mostly native in tropical or semi-tropical countries,
though a few are found in temperate climates.

Many of the species are sought for ornamental purposes and, on account
of their beauty and remarkable odor, they are more prized by many than
are the species of the Lily family.

In this group is classed the American Aloe (_Agave americana_) valued
not only for cultivation, but also by the Mexicans on account of
the sweet fluid which is yielded by its central bud. This liquid,
after fermentation, forms an intoxicating liquor known as _pulque_.
By distillation, this yields a liquid, very similar to rum, called
by the Mexicans _mescal_. The leaves furnish a strong fiber, known
as vegetable silk, from which, since remote times, paper has been
manufactured.

The popular opinion is that this plant flowers but once in a century;
hence the name "Century Plant" is often applied to it, though under
proper culture it will blossom more frequently.

Other plants of equal economic and historic interest, but less known,
belong to this family. It is said that one species furnished the fluid
used by the Hottentots for poisoning their arrows.

The genus Narcissus derives its name from a Greek word meaning "stupor"
because of the narcotic effect produced by the odor and by portions of
the plants of some species.

There are about twenty-five species, chiefly natives of southern
Europe, but some of them, either natural or modified by the gardener's
art, are world-wide in cultivation.

Blossoming early in the season they are frequently referred to as
"harbingers of spring." The flowers are handsome, large, varying in
color from yellow to white and sometimes marked with crimson. They are
usually borne on a nearly naked stem. Some of the species are very
fragrant. The leaves are elongated, nearly sword-shaped and usually
about a foot in length, rising from the bulbous underground stem.

Among the forms that are familiar are the daffodils, the jonquils, and
the poet's narcissus.

An interesting feature in the structure of the flowers is the cup or
crown which is found at the base of the flower segments. The length
and character of this is an important feature in the separation of the
species.

In Grecian mythology Narcissus was the son of the river god, Cephissus.
He failed to return the love of the mountain nymph, Echo, which so
grieved her that she pined away till nothing remained but her voice,
which gave back with absolute fidelity all sounds uttered in the hills
and dales.

Narcissus was punished for this by Aphrodite, who caused him to love
his own image as it was reflected in the water of a neighboring
fountain. "Consumed with unrequited love, he too, wasted away and was
changed into the flower which bears his name."



FASHION'S CLAMOR.

E. K. M.


Judging from late millinery creations, and the appearance of windows
and showcases, women, in spite of the efforts of the Audubon societies,
still elect to adorn themselves with the stuffed remains of rare or
common birds.

A live bird is a beautiful and graceful object, but a dead duck,
pigeon, or gull peering with glassy eyes over the brim of a woman's hat
is, to the thinking mind, both unbecoming and repulsive. In deference
to "sentimental" bird lovers and at the same time the behest of Dame
Fashion, wings and breasts are said to be manufactured out of bits of
feathers and quills which have all the appearance of the original.
Wings and breasts, yes, but never the entire creature, which the bird
lover--in a millinery sense--chooses above all other adornments for her
headgear. Apart from the humanitarian side of the subject, one cannot
but marvel that such women cannot be brought to regard the matter from
the esthetic point of view.

"Esthetic," repeats my lady, glancing admiringly in the mirror at the
death's head above her brow, "esthetic point of view, indeed! Why,
the point of view with most women is to wear whatever they consider
becoming, striking, or _outré_. Now I flatter myself in selecting this
large gull with spreading wings for my hat, that I attained all three
of these effects, don't you?"

"Especially the _outré_," muttered one of her listeners, at which my
lady laughed, evidently well pleased.

Five women out of every ten who walk the streets of Chicago and other
Illinois cities, says a prominent journal, by wearing dead birds upon
their hats proclaim themselves as lawbreakers. For the first time in
the history of Illinois laws it has been made an offense punishable
by fine and imprisonment, or both, to have in possession any dead,
harmless bird except game birds, which may be "possessed in their
proper season." The wearing of a tern, or a gull, a woodpecker, or a
jay is an offense against the law's majesty, and any policeman with
a mind rigidly bent upon enforcing the law could round up, without a
written warrant, a wagon load of the offenders any hour in the day, and
carry them off to the lockup. What moral suasion cannot do, a crusade
of this sort undoubtedly would.

Thanks to the personal influence of the Princess of Wales, the osprey
plume, so long a feature of the uniforms of a number of the cavalry
regiments of the British army, has been abolished. After Dec. 31, 1899,
the osprey plume, by order of Field Marshal Lord Wolseley, is to be
replaced by one of ostrich feathers. It was the wearing of these plumes
by the officers of all the hussar and rifle regiments, as well as of
the Royal Horse Artillery, which so sadly interfered with the crusade
inaugurated by the Princess against the use of osprey plumes. The fact
that these plumes, to be of any marketable value, have to be torn
from the living bird during the nesting season induced the Queen, the
Princess of Wales, and other ladies of the royal family to set their
faces against the use of both the osprey plume and the aigrette as
articles of fashionable wear.

If this can be done in the interest of the white heron and osprey, on
the other side of the water, why cannot the autocrats of style in this
country pronounce against the barbarous practice of bird adornment
entirely, by steadfastly refusing to wear them themselves? The tireless
energy of all societies for the protection of birds will not begin
to do the cause among the masses so much good as would the total
abandonment of them for millinery purposes by what is termed society's
400.



  [Illustration: FROM KOEHLER'S MEDICINAL-PFLANZEN.
                 COCA.
                 CHICAGO:
                 A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER.]

Description of Plate.--_A_, flowering branch; 1, bracts, enlarged; 2,
flowering bud; 3, flower; 4 and 5, petal with ligula; 6, pistil with
stamens; 7, stamen; 8, pistil; 9, ovary, transverse section; 10 and 11,
corolla; 12 and 13, fruit.

COCA.[1]

(_Erythroxylon Coca Lam._)

DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER, Northwestern University School of Pharmacy.

     It is an aromatic tonic and cerebral stimulant, developing a
     remarkable power of enduring hunger and fatigue.--_Gould:
     Dictionary of Medicine._


At the very outset I wish to state that coca is in no wise related to
cocoa, a mistake which is very often made. The term coca, or cuca, as
it is sometimes spelled, applies usually to the leaves of _Erythroxylon
coca_, which are used as a stimulant by the natives of South America
and which yield cocaine, a very important local anæsthetic. Cocoa or
cacao refers to the seeds of _Theobroma cacao_, from which cocoa and
chocolate are prepared, so highly prized in all civilized countries.
With these preliminary statements I shall begin the description of
coca, hoping at some future time to describe the even more interesting
and important cocoa-yielding plant.

Coca and cuca are South American words of Spanish origin and apply to
the plant itself as well as to the leaves. The plant is a native of
Brazil, Peru, and Bolivia. It is a shrub varying in height from three
to ten feet. The leaves resemble the leaves of tea in general outline.
The margin, however, is smooth and entire, the leaf-stock (_petiole_)
short; upper and lower surfaces smooth; they are rather thin, leathery,
and somewhat bluish-green in color. The characteristic feature of the
leaf is two lines or ridges which extend from the base of the blade,
curving out on either side of the mid-rib and again uniting at the apex
of the leaf. The flowers are short pedicled, small, perfect, white or
greenish-yellow, and occur singly or in clusters in the axil of the
leaves or bracts. The shrub is rather straggling and not at all showy.

Coca has been under cultivation in South America for many centuries.
According to A. de Caudolle the plant was very extensively cultivated
under the rule of the Incas. In fact it is generally believed that
the original wild stock no longer exists; such eminent authorities as
D'Orbigny and Poeppig maintaining that the wild growing specimens now
found in South America are plants which have escaped from cultivation.
Coca is now extensively cultivated in Peru, Bolivia, Brazil, and other
South American countries, particularly in the Andes region. It is also
extensively cultivated in British India and in Java. Attempts have been
made to introduce it into Southern Europe but without success.

The plants are grown from seeds sown in pots or boxes in which they are
kept until they are from eight to ten inches high, after which they
are transplanted during the rainy season. Coca thrives best in a warm,
well-drained soil, with considerable atmospheric moisture. In the Andes
region an elevation of 2,000 feet to 5,000 feet is most suitable. The
young growing plants must be protected against the heat of the sun. The
maximum growth is attained in about five years.

The leaves are the only parts used although the active principle,
cocaine, is present in small quantities in all parts of the plant. As
soon as the shrubs are several years old the leaves are picked, usually
several times each year. This work is done principally by women and
children who pick the leaves by hand and place them in aprons. They are
then spread upon large mats, awnings, or cemented floors, and exposed
to the sun for from five or six hours to two or three days. During
very warm, bright weather drying may be completed in one day. If the
process of drying is slow or if it rains upon the leaves they assume a
dark color and are of less value. On the first indications of rain the
leaves are placed in sheds specially made for that purpose.

Coca leaves have been used for many centuries by the natives of
South America who employed them principally as a stimulant, rarely
medicinally. The leaves were at one time highly prized. Acosta states
that during the reign of the Incas the common people were not permitted
to use the leaves without permission from the governor. After the
passing of the Incas and after coca was more extensively cultivated all
classes chewed the leaves. Children were, however, not allowed to use
them. According to Mariani, the young Indian on arriving at the proper
age was sent to an old woman whose duty it was to instruct him and
to invest him with authority to chew coca leaves. The native carries
the leaves in a little pouch (_huallqui_ or _chuspa_) suspended from
the belt. This pouch also contains a small bottle-gourd or calabash
(_ishcupura_) in which is carried the ash of some plant (species of
_Chenopodium_), known as _Llipta_. A few leaves are placed in the
mouth and rolled into a ball; a stick moistened with saliva is now
dipped into the ash and wiped upon the leaves. The ash is supposed
to develop the flavor and to cause a flow of saliva which is either
entirely swallowed or partially expectorated. It is said that the
use of the leaves enabled the Indians to undergo extreme hardships.
A French missionary states that the leaves were absolutely necessary
to the slaves employed in the quicksilver mines of Peru. They were
also used in dressing wounds, ulcers, and taken internally for the
cure of intestinal troubles, jaundice, and various spasmodic troubles.
Historians seem to agree that the constant chewing of the leaves by the
Indians did not produce any very marked deleterious effects. Mariani,
upon the authority of several authors, states that it even seems to be
conducive to longevity. The dead of the South American Indians were
always supplied with a liberal quantity of coca to enable them to make
the long and fatiguing journey to the promised land.

Chewing coca leaves is a habit which may be compared to the habit of
chewing tobacco with the difference that the former is by far less
injurious though there are good reasons to believe that it is far from
harmless. Dr. Wedell says an habitual coca chewer is known as coquero
and is recognized by his haggard look, gloomy and solitary habit,
listless inability, and disinclination for any active employment. The
same authority states further that the habitual use of coca acts more
prejudicially upon Europeans than upon the Indians accustomed to it
from their early years. Occasionally it causes a peculiar aberration of
intellect, characterized by hallucinations.

Chewing coca leaves has never become common among civilized nations.
Large quantities of leaves are, however, imported for the purposes of
extracting the active principle cocaine, whose effects are very marked.
Cocaine causes a feeling of depression, and a marked reduction in the
activity of the senses preceded by stimulation. Cocaine solutions are
very extensively employed to produce local anæsthesia in minor surgical
operations. Dentists employ it very extensively. Its use has several
serious drawbacks. Occasionally it produces no effects whatever and
again an ordinary medicinal dose has caused fatal poisoning. For these
reasons dentists, physicians, and surgeons often hesitate in using
it. According to some authorities the poisonous effects are due to a
second alkaloid which occurs in the leaves of some varieties of coca.
If that is the case, then poisoning may be prevented by excluding these
varieties from the market, which is not an easy matter considering that
the leaves are collected, dried, and shipped by ignorant natives. It is
also known that the active principle is rapidly destroyed, hence the
necessity of using fresh leaves. In the course of one year most of the
cocaine has undergone a chemical change and the leaves are absolutely
worthless. Careless drying also destroys much or all of the cocaine.


FOOTNOTE:

[1] Cvea on plate, typographical error; Coca correct.--ED.



OUR NATIVE WOODS.

REST H. METCALF.


How many different varieties of wood are there in your own town? If
you never have considered this question you will be surprised at the
variety, and, I am sure, will enjoy making a collection for yourself. A
pretty cabinet size is two inches in length and the same in diameter.
This size is very convenient, unless you have an abundance of room, and
will show fibre, grain, and color quite distinctly. If you will plane
off two sides of the block you will see the grain plainly, and, if
possible to polish one side, you will see what a beautiful finish some
of our own woods will take.

All that is necessary in obtaining your collection is a small saw,
but a congenial companion will greatly add to your pleasure. Saw your
specimen considerably longer than you call for after it is prepared,
for most of the varieties will check in drying; then let it thoroughly
dry before preparing for your collection. The fruit trees around your
home may first take your attention. You will be interested in noting
the differences in the grain of the apple, apricot, barberry, cherry,
pear, peach, plum, and quince; and while you are becoming interested in
the fruit trees, notice the variety of birds that visit the different
trees, for you will find each bird has its favorite fruit and favorite
nesting-place. The mountain ash will perhaps feed as many birds in the
fall and winter as any tree, and is a pretty tree for the lawn, holding
its place with the maples, the ever graceful elm, admired by all,
except the man who is trying to split it into fire-wood, and a favorite
with the Baltimore oriole. If you wonder why the horse chestnut was so
named, just examine the scars after the leaves fall and you will think
it rightly named. Who has not tried carrying a horse chestnut in his
pocket to prevent rheumatism? The weeping birch, as well as the weeping
maple, are much admired for shade and ornamentation, but are not very
common. We were told recently that the Lombardy poplar was coming back
as a tree for our lawns, but many prefer the balm-of-gilead, so popular
for its medicinal qualities. In the United States there are thirty-six
varieties of the oak; you will find several in your own town and I
trust will add a collection of acorns to your cabinet, and friends from
the South and West will help make your collection a complete one. Then
you will become interested in the cone-bearing trees and a variety
of cones will also be added to your evergrowing collection, you will
enjoy gathering some green cones and listening to the report as the
seed chambers open, and if you gather a small vial of the common pine
and hemlock seeds you will puzzle many a friend. One person remarked,
when shown a vial of hemlock seed, "O yes, I have seen something like
that, that came from Palestine, but I have forgotten the name." Some
of the fir trees are pitted with holes where the woodpeckers insert
grub-bearing acorns, leaving the grub to fatten, and in the fullness
of time devouring it. Then the trees bearing edible nuts will call for
their share of attention. The chestnut is familiar to all, as well as
the butternut and hazelnut, but I knew one collector who called an
ash tree butternut. There are twelve varieties of ash in our country,
a wood that is coming more and more into prominence, and deservedly
so; its toughness is proverbial, and it has long been utilized by
carriage-makers for certain parts of wheels. A fine, handsome wood,
combining in itself the qualities of oak and pine.

There are eighteen varieties of willow, several of the alder, but
throughout the United States there is only one kind of beech. The
ironwood is often wrongly called the beech. The hard and soft pine are
interesting trees. The soft especially is a favorite for the sawyer, a
beetle with long horns, who cuts large holes through the wood. When
obtaining your specimen from the thorn tree you may be fortunate enough
to see the shrike getting his breakfast from the thorns where he had
placed it some time before. The locust with its fragrant racemes of
white blossoms in the spring and long seed pods in the fall will call
for attention, and you may perhaps receive, as I did, a locust seed
from the tree planted by George Washington at his Mount Vernon home
many years ago. The shumachs and white birches are very artistic and
sought out by all artists, for who does not want to put a white birch
into a landscape! Every one knows the black birch by its taste. The
laurel has a pretty, fine grain. The witch hazel is another favorite
for its medicinal qualities as well as its popularity for being the
last blossom of the autumn. And many others will be added from the
shrubs and vines until your collection, just from your own town,
will number nearly, if not quite, one hundred. You will thus, too,
have become interested in all nature and will be able more fully to
appreciate all the beautiful things God has given us to use and enjoy.



BIRD WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD.


Possibly the rarest of all feathered creatures is the "takahe" bird of
New Zealand. Science names it _Notornis Mantelli_. The first one ever
seen by white men was caught in 1849. A second came to white hands
in 1851. Like the first it was tracked over snow, and caught with
dogs, fighting stoutly, and uttering piercing screams of rage until
over-mastered. Both became the property of the British museum. After
that it was not seen again until 1879. That year's specimen went to the
Dresden museum at the cost of $500. The fourth, which was captured last
fall in the fiords of Lake Te Anau, in New Zealand, has been offered to
the government there for the tidy sum of $1,250.

Thus it appears that the bird is precious; worth very much more than
its weight in gold. The value, of course, comes of rarity. The wise men
were beginning to set it down as extinct. Scarcity aside, it must be
worth looking at--a gorgeous creature about the size of a big goose,
with breast, head, and neck of the richest dark-blue, growing dullish
as it reaches the under parts. Back, wings, and tail-feathers are
olive-green, and the plumage throughout has a metallic lustre. The tail
is very short, and has underneath it a thick patch of soft, pure white
feathers.

Having wings, the takahe flies not. The wings are not rudimentary, but
the bird makes no attempt to use them. The legs are longish and very
stout, the feet not webbed, and furnished with sharp, powerful claws.
The oddest feature of all is the bill, an equilateral triangle of hard
pink horn. Along the edge, where it joins the head, there is a strip of
soft tissue much like the rudimentary comb of a barn-yard fowl.

    "Around the glistening wonder bent
    The blue wall of the firmament;
    No clouds above, no earth below,
    A universe of sky and snow."
                                        --_Whittier._



  [Illustration: FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON.
                 A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.
                 RED-TAILED HAWK.
                 1/3 Life-size.
                 COPYRIGHT 1899, BY
                 NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]

THE RED-TAILED HAWK.

(_Buteo borealis._)

C. C. M.


Until recently the red-tailed hawk was classified with the obnoxious
hawks which prey upon birds and poultry, but the Department of
Agriculture instituted an investigation of this species and concluded
that it has a far worse reputation with the average farmer than it
deserves. The late Major Bendire asserts that, while it does capture a
chicken or one of the smaller game birds now and then, it can readily
be proved that it is far more beneficial than otherwise and really
deserves protection instead of having a bounty placed on its head,
as has been the case in several states. The red-tailed buzzard, as
it is sometimes called, in its light and dark geographical races, is
distributed throughout the whole of North America. Its food is chiefly
small quadrupeds, red squirrels, gophers, and moles, and the remains of
these rodents may be found in this bird's nest containing young. Where
this hawk is found these small animals are most abundant. Longfellow in
the "Birds of Killingworth," among the "Tales of a Wayside Inn," has
written a defense of the hawks that the Audubon societies might well
use as a tract.

The nest of the red-tail is placed in high trees in deep woods; it is
large and bulky, though comparatively shallow, and is made of sticks
and twigs mixed together with corn husks, grass, moss, and on the
inside may be found a few feathers. It is said that sometimes the
deserted nest of a crow or that of another hawk is fitted up and used.
Mr. J. Parker Morris records a nest occupied first by the great horned
owl and afterwards by the red-tailed hawk each year. The young owls
leave the nest before the hawk is ready to occupy it. Two or three,
rarely four, eggs are laid. Eggs are found as late as the middle or
latter part of May. They present many differences in size and markings;
their ground color is white or bluish white, some are entirely
unmarked, while others are very heavily blotched and splashed with
many shades of red and brown; and Davie says some are faintly marked
here and there with a light purplish tint, and again the colorings may
form an almost confluent wreath at either end. The average size is 2.36
by 1.80.

In old paintings the hawk is represented as the criterion of nobility;
no person of rank stirred without his hawk in his hand. Harold,
afterwards king of England, going on an important embassy into
Normandy, is drawn in an old bas-relief, embarking with a hawk on his
fist. In those days it was sufficient for noblemen's sons to wind the
horn and carry the hawk.

According to Mr. Horace A. King this is one of the commonest birds
of prey to be found in northern Illinois. They may be met with in
all sorts of places, but are most common in the vicinity of heavy
timber. In driving through the country one will see them perched upon
rail fences, trees by the wayside, sitting on the ground in stubble
or pasture fields, or soaring, over fields in search of their prey.
When on one of his foraging expeditions, the red tail, on sighting
his quarry, will remain at the same place in the air by a continual
flapping of the wings, when at the proper time he will dart swiftly and
silently upon it.

Mr. Claude Barton, while rowing up Flat river recently, came upon six
mallards. At sight of him the birds took flight, following the river.
About two miles further up the stream he again came upon the same
flock. There were four ducks and two fine drakes. He hid his boat in
the rice and watched them. All at once a large red-tailed hawk dashed
into the flock. The ducks, with the exception of one, dove, and this
one took wing, a swift pursuer following. The hawk did not seem to gain
on his prize, and the poor duck was screaming with terror. Had the duck
sought safety in the water it would probably have escaped, but it was
too frightened apparently to think of it.



A TRANSPLANTING.

ALICE WINSTON.


It was the kitten who did it, though no one knew but Martha. Aunt Jenny
thought it was the work of Providence and Aunt Amy thought it was the
result of her own smiles and caresses. Aunt Mary never thought about
it at all, of course. But really it was the kitten. And what was this
thing that the kitten accomplished? The taming of Martha. And why did
Martha need taming? Because she came at twelve, a very barbarian,
with freckles and unmanageable hair, under the dominion of three
smooth-locked ladies, who never had a freckle and whose hair had always
been smooth.

Perhaps it would be better to begin at the beginning which was twenty
years before there was any kitten. Most serene and happy would have
been the lives of the three Miss Clarkes, if it had not been for
Arthur. Arthur was their brother, and the combination of prim, blonde
girls and harum-scarum black-eyed boy, made a most surprising family.
The son and heir was not looked on as a success by his sisters and the
other staid and respectable citizens of Summerfield. He did not join
the church and he did not go to college, he wedded no one of the many
eligible town's daughters, and, lastly, on his father's death he did
not settle down at home, to take care of his property and his sisters.

This last of his misdeeds had made a breach between himself and his
sisters. The more serious, because of the very deep affection which
lay at the bottom of their half apologetic demeanor toward their
brother. The difference between them was augmented by his removal to
a far western town and his marriage with one of the natives. For the
next twelve or thirteen years they never saw him and heard of him but
seldom. Then he died suddenly, after accomplishing his task of wasting
all his money.

So it happened that Martha saw her aunts for the first time on the
day of her father's funeral, and her dim recollection was of cold
faces and mannerisms which worried her mother. Martha was the eldest
of four and her mother was one of the ornamental of earth, and her
father one of the restless. So the first eleven years of her existence
was wandering up and down through many cities, attended with much care
for her slender shoulders, and an amount of worldly experience such as
forty years of life had not given to the elder generation. Then her
father died and they all went to share the spendthrift poverty of the
home, whence her mother drew her ideas of domestic economy.

Through wifehood and widowhood, to her deathbed, Mrs. Clarke clung to
an unreasoning hate of her sisters-in-law, and a dread of the time when
her children must come into their hands kept her struggling against
death for months.

But just one month after her pitiful fight was over, Martha started for
Summerfield.

Poor Martha! Never captive carried to slavery felt such dread as did
she on her eastward journey. When the friend who had borne her company
left her at a station near Summerfield, even the stoicism of Martha
gave way before the horror of the unknown and she clung to the last
landmark of her old life, with a sobbing eagerness, which even a
carefully nurtured child might know.

But there was no trace of frail, human grief in the little maiden
who lifted the sullen blackness of her big eyes to Aunt Jenny's face
that evening, who received Aunt Mary's greeting with a self-possessed
composure alarming to that shy and gentle lady, and who gave the same
degree of cold attention to Aunt Amy's sweet speeches.

They had looked forward to the coming of Arthur's daughter with a
strange mixture of excitement, pleasure, and dread. The dread was
predominant now. For this stern little woman was not their flesh and
blood, not the child of their brother, but of the woman who had kept
them apart from their brother in his trouble and sickness and death.

Martha was quiet and docile enough. In fact she did what she was told
with a resignation most depressing. Aunt Jenny took her to church
and the sight of her critical dark eyes roving over minister and
congregation spoiled the sermon for Aunt Jenny. Aunt Mary told her
stories of her father intended to be gently humorous. In the midst of
them Martha jumped up and ran off into the garden. She cried there for
half an hour, but nobody ever knew, and this business lost her the
little hold she had had on Aunt Mary's heart. Aunt Amy tried to amuse
her and took her to Sunday-school, and to the Band of Hope. She gave
her a doll and invited the neighbor's children to come and take tea.
The doll was a source of secret amusement to Martha, but the visits of
these pretty and proper children were trials which she could scarcely
bear with patience.

All the while, as the aunts half suspected, she was criticising
everything that came within the ken of her hungry eyes. She found Aunt
Jenny imperious, Aunt Mary dull, and knew that Aunt Amy was thinking of
her sweet smile as she smiled. For Martha was outside of it all, a mere
spectator of this life of peace and quiet and plenty, and she secretly
hungered after something to care for--something to take the place of
the little brothers and sisters who had always run to her to have their
faces washed and their aprons buttoned. They expected her to play with
dolls, she, Martha Clarke, who had had real work to do and had learned
to push and crowd her own way.

Months went by and the barrier was unbroken. One evening the tea bell
rang again and again without bringing any Martha. The aunts were in
consternation. Had she run away or was it a case of kidnapping? After
nearly an hour the suspense was ended by the arrival of Martha. But
such a Martha! Her neat raiment was muddy and torn. Her hair was in
shocking disorder. Her right hand, tied up in a handkerchief, was
emphatically bloody, but in spite of this, it was used to steady her
bonnet, which she carried by the string, basket-wise, in her left hand.

Exclamations of horror and surprise burst from the astonished women.
"Martha, where have you been? What have you been doing? What is the
matter with your dress? Have you hurt your hand? Why, it's bloody! Has
the child been fighting? Martha, are you going to answer?"

Martha was actually embarrassed. As she advanced into the lamplight
they saw that her cheeks were crimson and her eyes sparkling, also
that the contents of her bonnet was a dilapidated kitten. When she did
speak, her voice was shriller than usual.

"I fell down in the mud and my hand is hurt," was her meager and
hesitating answer.

"Where did the cat come from?"

"It isn't a cat, it's a kitten, and it was out in the yard, and I
tried to catch it and it ran away and a dog chased it. When I came up,
the dog was eating the kitten, and I hit him and then he bit me and
pushed me down in the mud. But I'm going to keep the kitten." The last
defiantly, then on second thought, she added:

"If you please. It's awfully hurt, that kitten."

In the silence that followed the shrill child-voice the aunts looked
at each other and one thought was in the mind of each. "She looks like
Arthur."

When Martha went to bed that night the kitten, with its wounds all
dressed, was slumbering peacefully before the kitchen fire.

Time passed on happily for the kitten, which was not very much injured
after all, and full of new interest for Martha, who plunged head and
soul into the education of the kitten. Toward her aunts her feeling was
unchanged. She drew a line between them and the kitten.

One evening Aunt Jenny and Aunt Amy had gone to prayer-meeting.
Aunt Mary was not well and she sat bolstered up in a rocking-chair,
knitting, before the bright fire in the sitting-room grate. Martha sat
beside her, also knitting, in theory, but in practice carrying on a
flirtation with the kitten, which was now a very gay kitten, indeed.
An empty rocking-chair stood very near the fire and the kitten was
leaping back and forth between its chair and Martha's, making its
attacks with much caution and its retreats with much speed. Aunt Mary
was sleepily watching the fun.

Suddenly there was a loud crash. The kitten had fallen into the fire
in such a fashion as to knock over the rocking chair in front of the
grate. It was a prisoner in the fiery furnace.

Many years had passed since Aunt Mary had moved so quickly. She threw
herself at the rocking-chair and flung it to one side. She snatched
up the unfortunate kitten and made one rush to the kitchen and the
kerosene can, and by the time Martha overtook her, was soaking the poor
little burned paws.

Half an hour later when Aunts Jenny and Amy opened the sitting-room
door, an astonishing sight met their eyes. The firelight redness
flickered over the excited faces of Martha and Aunt Mary laughing and
talking eagerly together, Martha no longer dignified and Aunt Mary no
longer shy. That was the beginning of the end, but Aunt Mary was always
Martha's favorite.

And it was the little kitten who did it.



TWO BIRD LOVERS.


Sunday afternoon the birds were sweetly mad, and the lovely rage of
song drove them hither and thither, and swelled their breasts amain.
It was nothing less than a tornado of fine music. I kept saying, "Yes,
yes, yes, I know, dear little maniacs! I know there never was such an
air, such a day, such a sky, such a God! I know it! I know it!" But
they would not be pacified. Their throats must have been made of fine
gold, or they would have been rent by such rapture-quakes.--_Mrs.
Nathaniel Hawthorne, in a letter to her mother._

Lovely flocks of rose-breasted grosbeaks were here yesterday in the
high elms above the springhouse. How very elegant they are! I heard a
lark, too, in the meadows near the lake, the note more minor than ever
in October air. And oh, such white crowns and white throats! A jeweled
crown is not to be mentioned beside theirs--such marvelous contrasts
of velvets, black, and white! Swamp sparrows, too, and fox sparrows--I
saw both during my last drive.--_From letter to Ed., from Nelly Hart
Woodworth, Vermont, Oct. 20, 1899._



WINTER TIME.

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.


    Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
    A frosty, fiery, sleepy-head;
    Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
    A blood-red orange sets again.

    Before the stars have left the skies,
    At morning in the dark I rise;
    And shivering in my nakedness,
    By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

    Close by the jolly fire I sit
    To warm my frozen bones a bit;
    Or, with a reindeer-sled, explore
    The colder countries round the door.

    When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
    Me in my comforter and cap,
    The cold wind burns my face, and blows
    Its frosty pepper up my nose.

    Black are my steps on silver sod;
    Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
    And tree and house, and hill and lake,
    Are frosted like a wedding-cake.



  [Illustration: FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON.
                 A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.
                 MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT.
                 4/5 Life-size.
                 COPYRIGHT 1899, BY
                 NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]

THE MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT.

(_Geothlypis trichas._)

C. C. M.


One of the first birds with which we became acquainted was the Maryland
Yellow-throat, not especially because of its beauty but on account of
its song, which at once arrests attention. _Wichity, wichity, wichity,
wichity_, it announces from some thicket or bush where it makes its
home. It is one of the most active of the warblers and is found
throughout the United States, Canada, and Nova Scotia; in winter it
migrates to the South Atlantic and Gulf States and the West Indies.

The nest is not an easy one to find, being built on the ground, under
the foot of a bush or tussock of rank grass, sometimes partly roofed
over like the oven bird's. The eggs are four or five, rarely six
in number, creamy-white, speckled, chiefly at the larger end, with
reddish-brown, dark umber, and black; in some, occasional lines or
scrawls appear. The average size is .69 × .52 inches. Oliver Davie says
that the best description of this bird's song was given by Mr. Thomas
M. Earl. One evening in May, 1884, he was returning from a day's hunt,
and, after a rest on an old log, he was about to start on his journey
homeward. At this instant a little yellow-throat mounted a small bush
and, in quick succession, said: _Tackle me! tackle me! tackle me!_ The
fact is, the yellow-throat has several notes and is rather noisy for
so small a bird. It is known by other names, as black-masked ground
warbler, black-spectacled warbler, brier wren, and yellow brier wren.

The female is much duller in color than the male, without black, gray,
or white on head. The young are somewhat like the adult female.



BOB-O-LINK.

GRANVILLE OSBORNE.


    Soaring high up in the bright blue sky,
    Can't keep track of him if you try;
    Flitting around in the pasture lot,
    Likes to be friendly, rather than not;
    Dancing along on the old rail fence,
    Sunshine and flowers where the woods commence;
    Got so he almost talks to me;
    Head a-nodding, he says, says he--
      "Bob-o-link, o-link, o-link."

    Clover and buttercups just seem to try
    Coaxing him up in the meadow to fly;
    Bees hunting honey keep buzzing around,
    Seem to know best where the sweetest is found,
    Almost forget when a-hearing him sing
    What kind of honey they all came to bring;
    Pert and saucy as he can be,
    Tail a-flitting, he says, says he--
      "Bob-o-link, o-link, o-link."

    Wings jet black and glossy as silk,
    Waistcoat a-gleaming as white as milk;
    Dainty and slender, quicker than light,
    First in the morning, last one at night,
    Perched on the post of the barn-yard gate,
    Singing his sweetest to waken his mate;
    Dressing his feathers and winking at me,
    Mincing around, he says, says he--
      "Bob-o-link, o-link, o-link."



A STUDY OF THE COLOR PHOTOGRAPH.


The color photograph is found to be most useful in developing the
color sense in children. The act of recognizing various colors and
shades is educative. When we consider that all the effects of the color
photograph are produced by combinations of the three primary colors we
at once step into a realm of thought and observation that is boundless.
The danger is that we may attempt too much with the abundance of
material at hand and, by forgetting the limitations of the unformed
mind, confuse instead of enlighten.

It is well for the teacher to know the process by which the color
photograph is produced, but young children who know little of the laws
of light are not expected to understand it fully. In advanced classes
the following will be found beneficial:

A natural object is placed before a camera and a water screen is
adjusted so no rays but the yellow may reach the photographic plate.
A negative is thus obtained recording all the yellow that appears
upon the surface of the object, whether it shows as pure yellow or in
combination with other colors. With the camera and object in exactly
the same position and another screen which absorbs all the rays but the
red ones coming from the object, a negative of the red is obtained. A
third negative of the blue in the object is similarly got, and we have
an accurate representation of the form and all the colors of the object
separated into red, yellow, and blue.

From these negatives three half-tone plates are made upon copper. A
half-tone plate is an acid etching produced by photographic process
with fine lines crossing each at right angles so that the picture
appears as a series of microscopic square points which decrease in
size in the lighter portions of the plate.

Red, yellow, and blue inks of the rarest quality are used in printing
from these plates, with great care exercised as to getting the exact
depth of color required for each. By placing a sheet of fine tissue
paper beneath a plate printing red, the red is deepened, another sheet
makes it more intense, and others are placed under the plate, if
necessary, to get the rich red required to blend with the yellow and
blue to make the exact reproductions of nature's colors which appear in
the color photograph.

The order of the printing is yellow first, and when this is thoroughly
dry the red is laid on, and the blue a day later. As the color is
nowhere a solid mass, but a series of points, one color does not hide
another, but the three colors shine through and make the blendings
which appear in the beautiful and delicate shades and tints of the
color photographs.

Do not manifest surprise when you find pupils wholly or partly color
blind. The boy who cannot find a red marble in the grass will show
by his conversation that red and green are the same to him. His is
an extreme case, but there are many who are slow to name the primary
colors and totally fail to recognize differences in tints.

For ordinary purposes there should be little effort given to the
naming of the shades. If the colors are talked about by name, enough
is done in the line of language. But classes become readily interested
in comparing reds, and blues, or greens to say which is the deeper or
the purer. The location of a patch of color often changes its apparent
intensity. Contrast with surroundings may deceive the eye. Whistler
has used Naples yellow so the observer declares it pure white.

A good exercise in color recognition is given in choosing masses of
color on the picture and telling what primary colors are in them; also
in comparing two masses and saying which appears to have the more red
or yellow in it.

Where the class have water colors excellent practice may be had in
selecting and mixing colors to correspond with a given one. The mixing
should be first tried without placing the mixed mass beside the copy.
Very young children often make surprisingly accurate judgments of
color, and no game pleases them more than a mixing contest, having
the game decided in each instance by placing the best work beside the
original.

No pictures have inspired so many young people with a desire to copy
as have the color photographs. Their perfection of detail has not
discouraged such attempts. The more easily copied lithograph has no
such fascination. This shows that the nearer we approach nature in any
presentation the more strongly we appeal to human nature and draw out
its latent powers.



THE PILEATED WOODPECKER.

BELLE P. DRURY.


This noble bird may be found in wooded districts of Illinois, but I
made its acquaintance in the Indian Territory, where it is quite common.

In size and beauty of color it is second only to the ivory-billed.

The Choctaw Indians told me it was the "Good God" bird. I asked what
they meant by that designation. The reply was "Only listen and you will
know."

For days I spent much time watching several pairs as they flew about
among the trees on the Shawnee Hills, but the only sound I heard was
the hammering of their strong stone-colored bills on the sides of the
trees, a noise that might easily be heard a quarter of a mile away.
They did not descend to fallen logs for their prey but made the chips
and bark fly from the upright trees.

Naturalists say the pileated will occasionally leave the insect-laden
trees in search of fruit and grain, a thing the ivory-billed never does.

My beautiful, noisy companions eyed me and my opera glass suspiciously,
trying always to keep on the other side of the tree from me, and, for a
time, gave me no hint of the reason for their Indian name.

But at last a hunter appeared upon the scene when the frightened birds
bounded away through the air uttering a cry which did indeed resemble
the words "Good God," spoken in gutteral tones. The marksman brought
down a fine specimen, which he gave to me. With magnificent red
top-knot and wide-spread wings it looks as if it might be longing to
fly back to its home among the Shawnee Hills.



THE LYRE-BIRD.

(_Menura superba._)

LYNDS JONES.


If Australia were noted for no other thing than the ancient and strange
animal forms which are to be found nowhere else on the earth, it would
still be a wonderful continent. Not the least remarkable of these
forms is the lyre-bird, the subject of the present sketch. Since its
discovery on January 24, 1798, by one Wilson, it has been handed about
among the different orders of birds by different systematists until
its anatomy seemed to give it a more or less permanent place among the
birds of passerine form, in spite of its fowl-like build and strong
legs and large feet.

The appearance of the bird, except the superb tail, is not remarkable;
but paradoxical as it may be, the tail is the bird's crowning glory,
at once giving it a name and fame. Like many other cumbersome things,
the lyre-bird's tail is used for ornament during a part of the year
only, being donned at the mating season and doffed at the close of
the nesting period. It assumes the lyre-shape only when voluntarily
spread, appearing simply as a long, greatly developed tail at other
times. The bird throws up a mound of earth, dome-shaped, which serves
as a raised platform or stage well suited to tail spreading and other
courting antics. Strutting and wing-dragging are accompaniments of
the tail-spreading, and strongly suggest gallinaceous affinities,
especially since the bird is the size of the ordinary barn-yard fowl.

In habits the lyre-bird is lowly, preferring the ground to bushes or
trees, and running from danger rather than flying, the strong legs and
feet permitting a swift retreat. Rarely the bird may mount a tree,
ascending branch by branch instead of flying up at once. They are said
to use the wings to aid them in running, and in hopping upward in
the trees. They are so wary and timid that it is difficult to secure
specimens except by resorting to deception or the use of dogs. The
barking of the dogs drives them into the trees, allowing the hunter a
fair mark. They are inhabitants of the dense brush from which it is
next to impossible to dislodge them.

Authorities agree that the lyre-bird's powers of song are remarkable.
It seems to have the power of mocking almost every other bird, as well
as the barking of the dingo, besides possessing a sweet song of its
own. One author states that for the first two hours of the morning it
repeats over again its own song, then gradually changes it to imitate
other birds, ending its four-hour song period with imitations of all
the other birds within hearing, then remaining silent for the rest of
the day.

The nest is a dome-shaped affair with the opening in one side, made of
"small sticks, interwoven with moss and fibers of roots." "The single
egg laid is of a very dark color, appearing as if it had been blotched
over with ink." The young emerges from the egg a downy white ball,
perfectly helpless, and remains in the nest for several weeks. The food
seems to consist of insects, myriapods, and snails, of which large
quantities must be destroyed to satisfy a bird of this size.

This is another of the world forms which are doomed to complete
extinction. It is to be earnestly hoped that the time of its
disappearance will await a more careful study of its habits than has
been accomplished thus far. A study of these curious forms can hardly
fail to throw much light upon the development of the bird fauna of the
world.

  [Illustration: FROM COL. F. KAEMPFER.
                 A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.
                 LYRE BIRD.
                 1/5 Life-size.
                 COPYRIGHT 1899, BY
                 NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]



ROBERT AND PEEPSY--THE TWINS.

NELLY HART WOODWORTH.


In the latter part of May a pair of Baltimore orioles built a nest in
my maples, from which, eventually, a brood of noisy fledglings were
launched upon the world. A quantity of Hamburg embroidery was woven
into the nest and festooned gracefully from the outside.

This was obtained from my neighbor's washing as it lay bleaching
upon the grass, a task demanding more time and strength than seemed
necessary for useless ornamentation.

To all appearance the esthetic taste of the builders was more
pronounced than was their family discipline.

The children were a clamoring, rollicking group, pushing each other
about and insisting, forcibly, upon a high point of view that
constantly threatened their frail lives. I was in constant fear lest
they come tumbling down and it was not long before my worst fears were
realized.

They fell, with a shower, upon the morning of the 23rd of June,
tumbling pell-mell into the strawberry bed, the biggest baby picking
himself up in a hurry, and climbing upon one of the fence wires.

The other nestlings were marched off by the head of the family to other
fields of observation, the first little bird hopping from the fence to
a wild rosebush that grew beside the kitchen door.

There he was fed by his father during the day; as his mother did not
appear I inferred that she had her hands full with the other children.

Neither parent appearing the next morning, the first baby was put into
a grape basket upon the window-sill.

Before noon the old birds came; the wire netting was removed from the
window, both parents coming at short intervals into the kitchen with
food.

To my surprise they did not return the following morning, when I
fully intended to speed the parting guest, though the little one was
placed in a cage outside the door. The helpless infant was left in an
orphaned condition to my care; he could not feed himself, nor did
he understand, under my tutelage, how to open his beak when food was
brought. It was necessary to pry it open, the lunches coming so often
that nearly all my time was spent in attending to his meals. That very
evening the chore-boy brought a lank, long-legged bobolink which was
given into my keeping only because it was threatened with starvation.

Like the oriole he was too young to feed himself and had been for
twelve hours without food.

A more uninviting specimen of babyhood could not be imagined, forlorn,
ragged, with unfeathered spaces upon his homely little body; but,
though he had none of the oriole's commanding beauty, he was sure to
perish unless regularly adopted and his infant wants supplied.

He was placed in the cage while the oriole was taking a nap, the
introduction prefaced by being stuffed till his bare little crop was as
round and full as an egg. Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller, who was with me at
the time, assisted at the christening of the pair.

As the oriole was always peeping we called him "Peepsy;" the bobolink
was named "Robert" with due respect to the Robert-o-Lincoln family.

They were oftenest called "the twins," and troublesome twins they were,
waking me at three o'clock each morning and crying loudly for their
breakfast, which was prepared the previous evening.

Peepsy was first taken in my hand and given a few mouthfuls, then
Robert's turn came, after which Peepsy was thoroughly fed and when
Robert's demands were appeased, both birds were returned to the cage
for another nap.

After sleeping innocently for another hour they awoke, insisting with
emphatic protest upon an immediate supply of rations.

There were times when they jerked their heads from side to side
and not a morsel was safely lodged or appropriated, persisting in
the clamor until, after patient effort, both little creatures were
satisfied at last.

As may be surmised this was no enviable task, though the twins went
promptly to bed at dusk leaving me free for the evening.

Peepsy was far the brighter bird. He took the lead at first, helping
himself to his meals at times, twinkling the soft brown wings at my
approach with most flattering evidences of favor.

Robert was a different bird; he scratched and bit, flopped about and
hissed out his disapprobation.

The last was not without compensations. Whenever his beak was opened
wide in disapproving hisses the opportunity was seized to fill it with
food.

Sometimes his tactics changed; he would throw back his head and refuse
to swallow. In a short time he took on prettier ways, now and then
coaxing a little while receiving his meals with dainty baby eagerness.

From first to last their tastes diverged; Peepsy was high-born,
Robert was of low degree. These low-born instincts preferring the
cage floor he was given a sod to stand upon, the oriole's decided
preference for higher stations culminating in the swing, his both by
right of preference and forcible possession. In ten days Peepsy began
to believe himself a full-grown bird. Then began an investigation of
the cage and its appointments, diving into every corner, thrusting
himself into the drinking cup as far as its size would allow, playing
with the food, and throwing the earthworms given him to the top of
the cage before attempting to swallow them. He would thrust his beak
into Robert's feathers or catch hold of his legs, while the bobolink
with ruffled plumage drew back with becoming indignation. He certainly
_was_ a homely baby which did not excuse the other twin for putting on
airs, regarding him with lofty condescension, or stepping on his big,
sprawling feet when they came too near. This unseemly behavior may have
accounted for Robert's despondent hours from which he emerged to sing
low and tentatively with the tinkling music of falling raindrops. Then
they tried to stand upon one foot, balancing with great difficulty
meanwhile, crowding into the swing and tumbling out upon the floor
together.

In utter indifference to his own toilet Peepsy insisted upon preening
Robert's plumage, calling his attention to the matter by vigorous pulls
at his tail, or jerking some truant feather that beauty or tidiness
required to be smoothed into place.

This unappreciated service was resented with many hisses, darting at
the persecutor with wide-open beak and dire threatenings of vengeance,
after which they cuddled up lovingly together for a nap.

For several days this self imposed helpfulness was so officious that
the twins were separated lest Robert's temper, not over-good at the
best, be permanently spoiled.

On this account Peepsy had the liberty of the house and went oftenest
abroad. What with a better disposition and more enticing manners there
was no resisting, whether it was coaxing to sit upon my finger or happy
as bird could be when admired and caressed.

He would fly to my shoulder, pull a stray lock of hair lying against my
throat, dodge skillfully when the hand was raised in protest, only to
reappear and bite my lips as they moved in cautioning words.

He followed me to my chamber morning by morning, hopping up the stairs
one at a time till we reached the top, when he flew to my shoulder and
entered the room master of ceremonies.

As the clothes were replaced upon the bed he darted down upon sheets
and blankets on purpose, seemingly, to be "shooed" away. Too much
notice was spoiling the child, though his reign, poor baby, was short!

He was quite independent as to feeding himself when Robert first began
to pick up cracker crumbs. What was stranger still, when the bobolink
was well-versed in such matters, his memory was so unreliable that he
forgot how to eat over night and had to be taught all over again for
several mornings, nor would he swallow till the egg or cracker was
thrust clear down his throat.

After the first month, in which the oriole took the lead, the order was
reversed. Robert was first thereafter, coming to the front and taking
entire charge of the establishment, chaperon, servant, adviser, nor
was he above making sarcastic remarks at the expense of the faithful
companion who followed closely at his heels.

He pecked at the little blue kid shoes on the perch above, pulled the
tiny toes, tweaked the feathers and tried to pull them out, and behaved
generally, I regret to say, most impolitely. With this increased
assurance there was a marked gain in song.

He sang while we breakfasted or dined, the same ideally happy bobolink
medley, a new discovery of the joy of living, lifting his voice in
rainy days in rhythm with the shower, Peepsy joining with sundry
encouraging notes but no real song.

After the first month both birds were fond of the bath; water in bowl,
pitcher, or tumbler, was a challenge seldom ignored.

Robert's short memory and inexperience were liable to mistake the dish
of cracker and milk for a bath tub, crowding into and flirting the
contents over chairs and floor. He was specially fond of my mother,
planting his feet in her soft, wavy hair and jerking her locks in utter
disregard of all threatening.

The door to the next room, left ajar, was a ceaseless fascination. When
the cage door was opened they started promptly, Robert leading, Peepsy
following meekly, till they reached the crack in the door, stretching
out their necks and peering with curious eyes into the room beyond;
then, as if confronted with some terrible ogre they turned quickly
about and hopped back to the cage.

The hidden possibilities were too great. In a moment back they came,
repeating the search over and over, till the door was thrown open and
they were at liberty to explore the terrors and resources of the room
beyond. After one of these excursions Peepsy was found fast asleep in
the narrow space between the door and the wall!

Both birds were very curious over the sweeping, Robert superintending,
keeping just in front of the broom, hopping straight into the dust-pan,
bristling his feathers when reproved, or flying, in frigid terror,
if pursued. They helped also in preparing the meals, following from
kitchen to pantry, from pantry to kitchen, till a too generous
attendance was checked for the time by compulsory return to the cage.

Ignorant of all fear they became my constant companions from room to
room, from house to garden and orchard, when wild birds looked down in
wonder, coming from the higher branches to peer and question, Peepsy
answering politely, fluttering the brown velvet wings in unavailing
winningness, while Robert silently ignored their inquisitive ways.
During the intense heat of midsummer I saw less of the twins than
usual, the house being darkened as much as possible to exclude the
heat. Opening my door I heard the patter of little feet as they crossed
the hall; Peepsy stood upon the threshold and, with a welcoming chirp,
flew towards me, coaxing and nestling against my cheek with many
evidences of gladness.

The heat of the day was waning; the sun had withdrawn from the valley;
the heights were radiant still, the peaks of the mountain range
dazzlingly lit with golden light. I carried the bird out-of-doors and
across the way where children were playing, the tiny guest enjoying
the call thoroughly, lunching upon raspberries, exploring the rooms,
"trying on" each nook and corner, and regarding with astonished
interest a huge feather duster that lay upon the carpet.

Advancing and retreating before the huge monster, ruffling his feathers
in rage, he hopped around it several times before his courage was
equal to an attack. Then, with wide-spread wings he charged upon the
savage enemy, striking it with his beak, trampling upon and biting the
feathers.

When we returned Robert's indignation knew no bounds; he was furious.

He might have been jealous that Peepsy went abroad while he stayed at
home; anyway, he pounced upon his brother in angry passion, caught his
foot and jerked him off the perch, pulled out his feathers and tumbled
him over upon the floor, when I interfered promptly.

As it was past their bedtime I saw them safely asleep, both little
heads laid snugly against their wings, and thought by morning the
quarrel would be forgotten. When I saw them next poor little Peepsy lay
dead upon the cage floor. I strongly suspect that Robert rose early to
help him out of the world; at least there was no appearance of suicide!

The remaining twin sang freely for a few hours; he had vanquished an
imaginary foe and was singing the song of him who overcometh.

After that he seemed preyed upon by remorse, nor was he ever himself
again, refusing food and pining away gradually through the few
remaining weeks of his short life, when, in spite of all his faults, he
died, as the storybooks say, much loved and lamented.



  [Illustration: FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON.
                 A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.
                 COW BIRD.
                 1/2 Life-size.
                 COPYRIGHT 1899, By
                 NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]

THE COWBIRD.

(_Molothrus ater._)

C. C. M.


"Buffalo-bird" was formerly one of the names applied to this bird of
strange habits, and Major Bendire, who was long an observer of all that
took place on the plains, states that one will rarely see a bunch of
cattle without an attending flock of cowbirds, who perch on their backs
searching for parasites, or sit with "lazy ease," their familiarity
with the cattle suggesting their name of cowbird. They also follow the
freshly plowed furrows and pick up worms and larvæ. Mr. P. M. Silloway,
who has made a very extended and careful study of the cowbird, says
that its strange behavior and stealthy movements at certain seasons
have prevented the acquisition of full data concerning many features
of its life, and a few unfounded speculations about its habits have
become current. It occupies a parallel place with the European cuckoo.
It never builds a nest, but deposits its eggs in the homes of other
birds, usually those of the smaller species. It is, therefore, a
homeless creature, and its young are all orphans or adopted children.
"It is, indeed, a peculiar bird, having no attractiveness of color,
no beauty of voice, and no home. No wonder that, when in the haunts
of other species, it hides and skulks as it seeks a suitable and
convenient habitation to house its unborn orphan." Major Bendire gives
a list of ninety-one birds in whose nests she has been known to leave
her eggs. This includes woodpeckers, flycatchers, orioles, thrushes,
sparrows, vireos, wrens, and warblers, but the most frequently imposed
upon are so small that the cowbird's big nestling is almost certain
to be the one to survive, the smaller birds being crowded out, and
left to perish. It is said that as many as seven cowbird eggs have
been found in a single nest, but there is generally only one. It is
believed that a brood of insectivorous and useful birds is almost
invariably sacrificed for every cowbird raised. Mr. Ridgway, in his
fascinating book on the birds of Illinois, gives the following vivid
picture of the female searching for a nest in which to deposit her
egg: "She hunts stealthily through the woods, usually among the
undergrowth, and when a nest is discovered, patiently awaits from a
convenient hiding-place the temporary absence of the parent, when the
nest is stealthily and hastily inspected, and if found suitable, she
takes possession and deposits her egg, when she departs as quietly as
she came." "In the village of Farmington, Conn.," says Florence A.
Merriam, "we once saw a song sparrow on a lawn feeding a cowbird bigger
than she. When she handed it a worm, one of my field class exclaimed in
astonishment, 'I thought the big bird was the mother!'"

Some of the foster parents abandon their nests, or build a second nest
over the eggs, but usually the little bird works faithfully to bring
up the foundling. Sometimes the egg is recognized by the mother and
quickly thrown out. Frequently, also, the cowbird will eject one or
more eggs of the owner to make room for her egg, or to deceive the
owner and leave the same number of eggs as were in the nest before her
visit. Sometimes an egg of the owner is found on the ground near a nest
containing an egg of the cowbird, and it is no unusual occurrence to
find an egg of the cowbird lying near a nest of a species regularly
imposed upon by the parasite. Silloway says that the wood thrush,
towhee, field and chipping sparrows, yellow-breasted chat, and the
Maryland yellow-throat are oftenest selected to bear the burden of
rearing the young of the cowbird.

In their courtship the males are very gallant. They arrive from the
south several days in advance of the females. At this season--about
the middle of March--they generally associate in groups of six or
eight, and the males are easily distinguished by the gloss of their
black plumage in contrast to the dull brown of the female. They do not
pair, the females meeting the advances of the males indiscriminately.
Dr. Gibbs, however, thinks that the birds may pair frequently for the
summer, and suggests this as reasonable, referring to an incident
coming under his notice when he saw a blue jay, on the point of
despoiling the nest of a vireo, driven away by a pair of cowbirds in a
most valiant manner. In going to the nest he found a large over-grown
cowbird occupying the largest share of the structure, "while a poor
little red-eyed vireo occupied a small space at the bottom, and beneath
his big foster brother."

The eggs of the cowbird hatch in eleven or twelve days. They average
.88 by .65 of an inch, the length varying from .95 to .67 of an inch,
and the width varying from .72 to .58 of an inch. The ground is a dingy
white or gray, and the markings vary through all the shades of brown,
sometimes evenly distributed over the surface, and at other times
predominating around the larger end. There is so much diversity in the
appearance of different specimens, that frequently the investigator is
puzzled in distinguishing the true eggs of the towhee, cardinal, and
other species from those of the cowbird.

In the breeding season the male grackles, red-winged blackbirds, and
the cowbirds of both sexes, nightly congregate to roost together. Early
after the breeding season they form into flocks of from fifty to sixty.
The birds have then finished moulting, and the glossy black of the
males has been changed into the duller colors of the females and the
young. They assemble with the blackbirds of various species where food
is most abundant and easy to be procured.

Late investigations of the food habits of the cowbird indicate that
the species is largely beneficial. Prof. Beal showed the food of the
cowbird to consist of animal and vegetable matter in the proportion of
about twenty-eight per cent. of the latter. Spiders and harmful insects
compose almost exclusively the animal food, while weed seeds, waste
grain, and a few miscellaneous articles make up the vegetable food. Mr.
Silloway thinks "it is not improbable that the so-called insectivorous
birds displaced by the cowbird are thus kept in check by this natural
agent, and their mission performed by the usurper in directions as
helpful as the special functions of the sufferers. We may later come to
understand that one cowbird is worth two bobolinks after all."



THE LEGEND OF SAINT SILVERUS.


    There runs an old, old legend,
      A tale of Christmas time,
    Low breathed round the fireside
      In distant Northern clime;
    It tells how once an angel
      Looked down in mercy sweet,
    And bade the people listen
      To hear the Master's feet:
    "Behold the Christ-child cometh!
      The King of love is near!
    Oh! bring your gifts of Noel
      Unto the Lord most dear."

    With golden grain of plenty
      Fair shone each raptured home;
    The corn crown'd every dwelling
      Whereto the Christ should come.
    And one, a blue-eyed stripling,
      In longing all unknown,
    With heart aflame had labored
      For gift that God might own:
    "Behold the Christ-child cometh!"
      Up rose the music blest,
    And Silverus stood waiting
      With sheaf the richest, blest.

    A tiny bird, nigh fainting,
      A little trembling thing,
    Through chilling airs of Christmas
      Drew near on drooping wing;
    The people raised a clamor,
      They chased it from the corn,
    They drove it from the garlands
      That gleamed for Christmas morn:
    "Behold the Christ-child cometh!"
      His praise they fain would win;
    How could they bring to Jesus
      An offering marred and thin?

    On drooping, dying pinion
      That vainly sought relief,
    The shivering bird down lighted
      Where shone the proudest sheaf;
    And Silverus moved softly,
      Though dews all wistful stirred,
    Close, close within his bosom
      He fed the fainting bird:
    "Behold the Christ-child neareth!"
      He spake in faltering tone,
    "The golden ears are broken,
      Yet broken for His own."

    And while the sheaf of beauty
      Grew marred and spent and bare,
    The sweet bird flew to heaven;
      The King of love stood there:
    "Oh! tender heart and Christlike,
      Whose yearnings soared on high,
    Yet could not see, uncaring,
      My weakest creature die!
    Lo, I am with thee always,
      My Christmas light is thine;
    The dearest gift of Noel
      Is pity poured for mine!"



BIRDS GATHERED HIS ALMOND CROP.


An almond-grower of this locality hit upon a neat device for gathering
his crop last fall. His trees bore largely, and this early became known
to the yellowhammers, a species of the woodpecker tribe of birds, and
they had regularly stored away large quantities of ripe nuts taken from
the orchard in the limb of an oak tree near by. The astute orchardist
watched operations, and at last hit upon a novel nut and labor-saving
plan, and he lost no time in putting it into execution.

The limb was sawed from the tree and replaced by a square-shaped
funnel, long enough nearly to reach the ground; a bucket was then set
underneath. A genuine robbing game then went merrily on. The birds
gathered the nuts, which they dropped into the funnel and down into the
bucket below, and as regularly as night came the almond-grower would
in his turn empty it of its contents and set it back for a new supply.
This was kept up until the entire crop had been gathered and the
yellowhammers had departed broken-hearted at the heartless deception
practiced upon them.--_Sutler (Cal.) Enterprise._



STORIES FROM BIRDLAND.


A specimen of the egg of that rara avis, the great auk, which was
discovered after twenty-seven years in a disused attic in the house
of Lord Garvagh in England, recalls to mind the fact that only about
seventy of these zoölogical treasures are now known to exist. Of these
G. F. Rowley of Brighton possesses half a dozen, while Prof. Alfred
Newton of Cambridge, the well-known zoölogical expert, has half that
number. The same gentleman discovered a splendid set of ten, labeled
"penguin eggs," in the Royal College of Surgeons upward of thirty years
ago, while the university museum at Cambridge possesses four, which
were the gift of the late Lord Lilford, whose beautiful grounds at
Oundle were a veritable paradise of bird life. One of these was brought
to light in a farm-house in Dorsetshire, and another changed hands in
Edinburgh for a mere trifle. It is a remarkable fact that, whereas in
1830 the market price of a great auk's eggs was no more than $1.25,
Lord Garvagh's specimen was bought from Dr. Troughton in 1869 for $320;
Sir Vauncey Crewe, in 1894, paid $1,575 for one; in 1897, another was
knocked down in London for $1,470, and a slightly cracked specimen went
about the same time for $840; not so long ago a couple of these eggs
was purchased at a country sale for $19 and resold for $2,284.

       *       *       *       *       *

Some few years ago a robin took up his abode near the communion
table in the old abbey at Bath, England, and remained there for some
considerable time; his victualing department being presided over by
a friendly verger, he naturally had every inducement to remain, and
remain he did. During sermon time, with the exception of an occasional
chirp of approval, he preserved an exemplary silence, neither coughing
nor yawning, but when the hymns were sung, and he perched himself on
the communion rail, his voice could be heard high above those of the
human singers. All redbreasts, however, do not behave so well, and one
at Ely cathedral some time ago carried on in such a manner that he
brought disgrace on his tiny head. During the service he behaved fairly
well, but when the clergyman ascended the pulpit and began to speak,
the robin deliberately perched himself on an adjacent pinnacle of the
chancel screen and began to sing, and the louder the preacher spoke the
greater volume of sound proceeded from the irreverent bird, till he had
to be removed.

       *       *       *       *       *

The first place in the ranks of birds was until lately given by
naturalists to eagles and hawks. The low-foreheaded tyrants are now
dethroned, and the highest development of the race is reached in the
family of the sparrows, if the following story be true. A man was
feeding with breadcrumbs a wood pigeon at his feet. One of the bird's
feathers, which was ruffled and out of place, caught the eye of a
sparrow; the little bird flew down, seized the feather in its beak and
pulled its best. The feather did not yield at once, and the pigeon
walked off with offended dignity. The sparrow followed, still holding
on; and, in the end, flew off triumphant with the trophy to its nest.



DECEMBER.


    Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak,
      From the snow five thousand summers old;
    On open wold and hill-top bleak
      It had gathered all the cold,
    And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek;
    It carried a shiver everywhere
    From the unleafed boughs and pastures bare;
    The little brook heard it and built a roof
    'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof;
    All night by the white stars' frosty gleams
    He groined his arches and matched his beams;
    Slender and clear were his crystal spars
    As the lashes of light that trim the stars;
    He sculptured every summer delight
    In his halls and chambers out of sight.

           *       *       *       *       *

    'Twas as if every image that mirrored lay
    In his depths serene through the summer day,
      Each fleeting shadow of earth and sky,
        Lest the happy model should be lost,
    Had been mimicked in fairy masonry
        By the elfin builders of the frost.
                                        --_Lowell._



  [Illustration: FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON.
                 A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.
                 WILD CAT.
                 1/6 Life-size.
                 CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO.
                 COPYRIGHT 1899, By
                 NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]

THE WILD CAT.

(_Lynx rufus._)

C. C. M.


The species of lynx found in forests in the United States is the red
or bay lynx. Its popular name is wild cat, but it is a true lynx,
with the ear tufts characteristic of that group, and differs from
the other members of it principally in the color of its fur. It is a
resident of every part of the United States from ocean to ocean. The
general color is usually red, but darker, and sometimes nearly black
along the backbone, while under the body it is whitish and on the
breast pure white. The entire fur, except the breast, is covered with
spots and streaks of darker fur. The length of the body and head is
about fifty-three inches and the tail is six inches long. The color
of the fur is of a brighter red in summer and a darker brownish-red
in winter. Different writers have classified several species of the
American lynx, including the Texas lynx, which is found in Texas, and
southern California; the Oregon lynx, which inhabits northern Oregon
and Washington. There is also a Florida lynx. It is believed there
is not much justification for these divisions, which Brehm says are
based principally upon the different markings of the fur, and that in
a general way it may be said that the specimens obtained from southern
climates have shorter fur, which is more brightly colored and more
distinctly spotted than those from the northern regions; but otherwise
these animals do not differ in their habits and characteristics, which
are those of the lynx group in general.

The natural home of the wild cat is a dense forest abounding in deep
thickets and game. It rarely seeks sparsely-wooded sections. Sometimes
it will hunt the hare even on the plain, and a prairie fire will drive
it to the neighborhood of settlements. It is capable of great endurance
in walking, can leap an astonishing distance, climbs well, and is said
to be a good swimmer. Its sense of hearing is very acute, and its sight
keen. It is a night-prowler, hiding at the dawn of day, and remaining
still until evening. The wild cat selects for its lair a deep thicket,
a cavern, or hole in a tree trunk.

As the shades of evening fall, says Brehm, it becomes active. During
the day it seems as rigid as a statue, but at night it sets out, and on
the first part of its journey makes frequent pauses, like those made
by the domestic cat previous to entering an enclosure that appears to
threaten danger. Only a very inexperienced person could mistake the
spoor of the lynx for that of any other animal. The imprint is very
deep owing to the strength of the paw, which exceeds that of a large
wolf. It is very round and, as the claws are hidden, it is blunt in
front. The pace is short compared with the size of the imprints made.
The spoor takes a form something like that of a row of pearls; any one
who has once seen it is sure to recognize it again.

The wild cat seems clumsy; its body is heavy, but it possesses the
agility of its kind and surpasses them in rapidity of movement and
endurance. Almost all animals and birds are its prey, although only the
strongest lynx will attack deer. In temperate climates it is detested
by the farmer and sportsman as it kills more than it needs, for its
sustenance, often merely lapping the blood of its victim, and eating
only the choicest portions. In the south it will not return a second
time to this food, but in the north, where game is scarce, it always
returns, remaining near the carcass until it is all eaten.

The wild cat has been tamed but it has not been found to be a very
attractive animal to handle when angry. Loewis gives the following
report of a female that he kept. He says: "A few months sufficed
to teach my young lynx her name, 'Lucy.' When, during a hunting
expedition, I would call out this name, together with those of numerous
dogs, she would always respond to her own name, but to no other. Her
training had been very easy and had reached such a point that when she
was engaged in a passionate, but forbidden chase of hares, sheep, or
poultry, and I called her, she would stop instantly and return, like
a guilty dog, crouching low on the ground and pleading for mercy.
When she was too far away to hear our voices, the report of a gun was
sufficient to call her back in breathless haste. Lucy took part in all
my autumnal hunting-trips. When she got sight of a poor hare she at
once engaged in hot pursuit, and, in spite of her great excitement,
she always had enough reasoning power to gauge the distance and to
approximate the difference between the hare's speed and her own. She
would obey only my brother's and my own summons, and showed no respect
to any other persons. When we were both absent for a whole day, nobody
could control her, and then, woe be unto the careless chicken or the
thought-less goose! During our absence she would, as soon as it became
dusk, climb on the roof, lean against the chimney, and go to sleep. As
soon as our carriage came into the yard, late at night, she sprang to
the stairs in a few bounds. If I then called her name she would come
to me quickly, put her strong fore-paws on my shoulders and, purring
and rubbing herself against me, she would follow me into the room and
prepare to pass the night on the bed or the lounge."

The fur of the lynx is very valuable. The Scandinavian specimens are
counted among the largest and finest. Siberia and Russia furnish
many thousands of skins. The flesh is said to be very palatable. It
is light colored and tender, like the best veal, and is free from
the disagreeable taste so common in game. The lynx was known to the
ancients but was exhibited much more rarely in Rome than the lion and
leopard, because even then it was so much more difficult to take alive.
The one that Pompey exhibited had been captured in Gaul. The life of
the wildcat in the natural state was shrouded in mystery which left
room for many fables.



CHRISTMAS ONCE IS CHRISTMAS STILL.

PHILLIPS BROOKS.


    The silent skies are full of speech,
      For who hath ears to hear;
    The winds are whispering each to each;
    The moon is calling to the beach;
    And stars their sacred wisdom teach
      Of Faith and Love and Fear.

    But once the sky its silence broke,
      And song o'erflowed the earth;
    The midnight air with glory shook,
    And angels mortal language spoke,
    When God our human nature took
      In Christ the Savior's birth.

    And Christmas once is Christmas still;
      The gates through which He came,
    And forests wild, and murmuring rill,
    And fruitful field, and breezy hill,
    And all that else the wide world fill,
      Are vocal with His name.

    Shall we not listen while they sing
      This latest Christmas morn,
    And music hear in everything,
    And faithful lives in tribute bring,
    To the great song which greets the King
      Who comes when Christ is born?



  [Illustration: FROM COL. F. KAEMPFER.
                 A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.
                 EUROPEAN SQUIRREL.
                 2/3 Life-size.
                 COPYRIGHT 1899, By
                 NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]

THE EUROPEAN SQUIRREL.

(_Sciurus vulgaris._)

C. C. M.


This is regarded as the typical species among the tree squirrels, and
its character and that of the common species of American squirrels are
very similar. The attitudes of the animals are familiar to all who have
watched the antics of squirrels in their arboreal homes. It is widely
distributed throughout all of Europe and across the Caucasus and Ural
through southern Siberia to the Altai and eastern Asia. Brehm says it
is not equally common everywhere or every year. Its favorite haunts are
dry, shady forests with high trees and it is as much averse to dampness
as to sunshine. When fruit and nuts are ripe it visits the gardens of
villages, but only when they are connected with the forest by small
tracts of trees or bushes. It will not attempt to forage far from the
protection of the trees. Where there are many pine cones the squirrel
makes its permanent home, and builds one or several habitations,
usually in old crows' nests, which it improves very ingeniously. If
it intends to make only a short stay, it uses the forsaken nests of
magpies, crows, or birds of prey, just as it finds them, but the
nests which it intends to serve as a permanent sleeping-place, a
shelter against bad weather or a nursery, are built new, though the
materials collected by birds are often utilized. It is said that every
squirrel has at least four nests, though nothing has been definitely
proven as to this. Hollows in trees, especially hollow trunks, are
also frequented by them and occasionally built in. The open-air nests
usually lie in a fork, close to the main trunk of the tree; the bottom
is built like one of the larger bird's nests, while above there is a
flat conical roof, after the manner of magpies' nests, close enough to
constitute a perfect protection from the rain. The main entrance is
placed sideways, usually facing east; a slightly smaller loop-hole for
escape is found close to the trunk. Moss forms a soft lining inside.
The outer part consists of twigs of various thicknesses, intertwined.
Brehm says this squirrel especially likes to use the firm bottom of a
forsaken crow's nest, filled with earth and clay, as a base upon which
to construct a nest of its own.

A famous naturalist, describing this little creature, says that it is
one of the principal ornaments of a forest. In quiet, fine weather
it is incessantly active, keeping as much as possible to the trees,
which at all times afford it food and cover. Occasionally it will
deliberately descend a tree, run to another tree and climb that; doing
this often in pure playfulness; for it need not touch the ground at
all, unless it wishes to do so. He calls it the monkey of the woods
of temperate climes, and it is possessed of many attributes which
remind one of that capricious inhabitant of the warmer zone. There are
probably few mammals which are possessed of such constant briskness and
remain for so short a time in the same place as the squirrel does in
tolerably fair weather. It is ever going from tree to tree, from top
to top, from branch to branch; and even on the ground it is anything
but clumsy or out of place. It never walks or trots, but always
proceeds in longer or shorter bounds, and so quickly that a dog can
hardly overtake it, and a human being has to give up the pursuit after
a short time. "It glides up even the smoothest trees with wonderful
ease and speed. The long, sharp claws on the toes stand it in good
stead, for it hooks them into the bark, all four feet at once. Then
it takes a running start for another leap and darts further upward;
but one bound succeeds another with such rapidity that the ascent
proceeds uninterruptedly, and looks as if the creature glided up the
tree. Usually it ascends to the top of the tree without pausing, not
infrequently reaching the highest point; then it goes out on one of
the horizontal branches and generally jumps to the tip of a branch of
another tree, covering in these jumps distances of four or five yards,
always in a downward direction. How necessary the bushy tail is for
leaping has been demonstrated by cruel experiments, which consisted in
cutting off the tail of some captive squirrel. It was then seen that
the mutilated creature could not leap half so far as one having a tail.
The squirrel is an excellent swimmer, though it does not go into the
water willingly."

The squirrel eats fruit or seeds, buds, twigs, shells, berries, grain,
and mushrooms. The seeds, buds, and young shoots of fir and pine
trees form its principal food. It bites pine cones off at the stem,
comfortably sits down on its haunches, lifts the cone to its mouth
with its fore-paws, and turning it constantly around, it bites off one
little scale after another with its sharp teeth, until the kernel is
reached, which it takes out with its tongue. Hazel nuts are a favorite
dainty with it. Bitter kernels, like almonds, for instance, are poison
to it; two bitter almonds are sufficient to kill it.

When food is abundant the squirrel lays by stores for less plenteous
times. In the forests of southeastern Siberia it stores away mushrooms.
"They are so unselfish," says Radde, "that they do not think of hiding
their supply of mushrooms, but pin them on the pine needles or in larch
woods on the small twigs. There they leave the mushrooms to dry, and
in times of scarcity of food these stores are of good service to some
roaming individual of their kind."

Four weeks after the breeding-season the female gives birth to from
three to seven young, in the softest, best located nest; the little
ones remain blind for nine days and are tenderly nurtured by the
mother. After they have been weaned the parents leave the young to
their fate. They remain together for a while, play with each other and
soon acquire the habits of their parents. By June it is said the female
has another family, and when they also are so far grown up that they
can roam around with her, she frequently joins her first litter, and
one may see the entire band, sometimes consisting of from twelve to
sixteen members, gamboling about in the same part of a wood.

The squirrel is a very cleanly animal, licking and dressing its fur
unceasingly.

The finest squirrel skins come from Siberia, and the farther east they
are procured the darker and more valuable they are. The back and under
part of the furs are used separately. Russia and Siberia annually
furnish from six to seven million skins, valued at about one million
dollars. Most of these skins are manufactured in Russia and exported to
China. Besides the skins, the tails are employed as boas, and the hair
of the tail makes good painters' brushes. The flesh is white, tender,
and savory, and is much esteemed by epicures.



"IN ORDERS GRAY."

E. F. MOSBY.


Very demure is the soft gray of the catbird's garb, but under it is
hidden a spirit ever ready for frolic and fun. His liquid, shining eyes
are very innocent, yet they are full of mischief. He always looks to me
as if he had a secret--one, however, that he is willing to share with
any friendly looker-on. Not even the chat takes a more genuine delight
in sport. Hide-and-seek is a favorite game with the whole tribe, and
in their shadowy gray, how they glide through the branches and lurk in
the thick leaves! What mischievous peering out, sometimes clinging to
a tree-trunk like a nuthatch, sometimes sitting absolutely still and
almost invisible on a bend of a crooked bough! When discovered, a wild
and reckless chase ensues; they skim in rapid flight over the level
fields, or dash through the shrubbery in excited pursuit.

The catbird dearly loves to tease. I often saw one hide near the
approach to an orchard oriole's nest, watching him with shining eyes of
mischief. He never actually molested the oriole, and would fly away to
some slender, swinging twig, after he had succeeded in startling the
nest owner into a state of nervous alarm, so that he would complain
to his mate for a half hour. The little scamp seemed thoroughly to
enjoy his fright. He has keen vision, and darts down with wonderful
swiftness on a worm far below his perch, while he can wheel and
turn with surprising ease in pursuit of any victim. One of his most
amusing performances is the way in which he nips off a shining, juicy
blackberry with his sharp beak, glancing at you as if to ask, "Did you
want that? You can't have it," and presto! the prize vanishes down
his throat, and he hops to another cluster with an air of triumph. I
love the little fellow in spite of his squawks and whims and naughty
tricks. He looks so neat and trim with his soft gray and velvety black,
and has such a pretty way of running along a bough with quick, short,
pattering steps like a little child's, and such lovely, clear, musical
tones when he chooses to be good, that it is hard to resist him. He has
also a very warm heart for his mate and nestlings, and for his comrades
as well. A gentleman relates that on one occasion, going too near a
catbird's nest, the little owner aroused the others by his sharp cries,
and they made such an attack upon him that he had to defend his face
with his hat. They fear nothing when the nest is in danger.

The first alarm-note is usually a sort of _cluck! cluck!_--rather low
and anxious. I saw my nephew one day take a young bird just out of
the nest in his hand. Instantly the parents flew to him with their
disturbed note. He put it down and went away, and a gray cat appeared.
The place rang with the anguished cries of _snake! snake!_ and the
"taunt song," for so it seemed, was taken up by others in the depths of
the woods. We did not succeed in saving all the brood from the stealthy
cat, and it was pitiful to hear the birds lamenting. In a frenzy the
mother-bird drove off furiously a Carolina wren that came to see what
the trouble was, and even a female cardinal, that added _her_ cries of
resentment at her rough handling, until the whole bird world seemed
in turmoil. The male cardinal appeared to answer his mate in soothing
tones, but neither approached again the mourning catbirds.

Last summer there was a most beautiful singer in my neighborhood that
added to his own melodies a marvelous mimicry of other birds. In
one morning I have heard him repeat over and over the _aoli_ of the
wood thrush, the cardinal's notes, the songs of the indigo bird, the
Maryland yellow-throat, the yellow-throated vireo, and the orchard
oriole. Sometimes there would be a contest in song between the oriole
and the catbird. The first was always the one to cease first, but each
usually looked very dissatisfied--a ruffled ball of feathers at the end.

The loveliest experience was hearing on a spring morning a song so
liquid, so sweet, so varied, and yet so low, scarce above a whisper,
that it seemed a dream. I stole to the window--and there sat my little
bright-eyed singer in shadowy gray, singing, as if all to himself, a
_shadow-song_.



INDEX.

VOLUME VI.--JUNE, 1899, TO DECEMBER, 1899, INCLUSIVE.


  Animals, Pet. As Causes of Disease, 26

  Animals, When, Are Seasick, 192


  Babies, Wee, 161

  Bats in Burmese Caves, 32

  Bee and the Flower, 164

  Beetles, 92-94

  Bird, The Flown, 61

  Bird Lovers, Two, 212

  Bird Notes, 187

  Bird Study, The Psychology of, 53

  Bird Worth Its Weight in Gold, 206

  Birds, Accidents to, 77

  Birds, Mounting of, 86

  Birds, Honey, 116

  Birds and Ornithologists, 80

  Birds, Nebraska's Many, 84

  Birds in Town, 89

  Birds, Twilight, 67

  Birds Gathered His Almond Crop, 228

  Birds, Young Wild, 71

  Birds, Traveling, 73

  Birdland, Stories from, 229

  Birdland, The Tramps of, 195

  Bobolink, 215

  Boy, Little, What the Wood Fire said to a, 173


  Canaries, 166-167

  Canon of the Colorado, The Grand, 106-107, 120

  Charley and the Angleworm, 12

  Cheeper, A Sparrow Baby, 103

  Chewink, 158-160

  Child-Study Literature. A Contribution to, 85

  Chipmunk, The, 177-179

  Christmas Once Is Christmas Still, 233

  Coca, 202-203

  Color Photograph, A Study of, the 216

  Common Minerals and Valuable Ores, 191

  Cowbird, 224-225

  Cruelty, The Badge of, 128

  Cuba and the Sportsman, 140


  December, 229

  Dog, The Pointer, 49-51


  Earth, How Formed, 110-111

  Eggs, Birds', Why and Wherefore of the Colors of, 152

  Emperor's Bird's Nest, The, 48


  Fashion's Clamor, 200

  Feather, Changes in Color, 2

  Finns, Bird Lore of the Ancient, 186

  Flower, the Bee and the, 164

  Forests, 97-99

  Fowls, Farm-yard, 118-119


  Hawk, John's, 42

  Hawk, Red-tailed, 208-209

  Home, Returning, 115

  Humming Bird, A Rare, 145


  In Orders Gray, 237

  Indirection, 23

  Insect Life Underground, 92-94

  Iron Ores, 189-191


  Jim and I, 149

  June, A Day in, 8


  Lady's Slipper, The, 146-148

  Lilies, Water, 82-83

  Lurlaline, 85

  Lyre Bird, 218-219


  Marbles, 62-63

  Mandioca, 72

  Maryland Yellow Throat, 214-215

  Mayflowers, The, 37

  Minerals, 74-75

  Mississippi, The, 174

  My Neighbor in the Apple Tree, 1


  Narcissus, The, 198-199

  Nature, Accordance of, 80

  Nature Study; How a Naturalist Is Trained, 41

  Nature Study in the Public Schools, 79

  Nest, A Metal Bird's, 32

  Nest Story of a, 188

  Niagara Falls, 142-143


  Oak, The Brave Old,102

  Oil Wells, 122-123

  Oologists, A Suggestion to, 20

  Optimus, 109

  Ores, 70-71

  Ovenbird. The; Golden-crowned Thrush, 90


  Park, Forest, 61

  Paroquet, The, 169

  Paroquet, Carolina, 170-171

  Peach, The, 182-183

  Perch, The Yellow, 86-87

  Philippine Islands, Plant Products of the, 115

  Pictures, The Influence of, 78

  Plant, A Fly-catching, 29

  Pointer, The, 49-51

  Prophet, Ted's Weather, 180


  Raven and the Dove, 36

  Rocks, Terraced, Yellowstone Park, 110

  Robert and Peepsy, 221

  Rooster, That, 132

  Rooster and Hen, 118


  Science, Out-Door, 24

  Sea-Children, The, 79

  Seal, Threatened Extermination of the Fur, 181

  Seasick, When Animals Are, 192

  Shells and Shell Fish, 58-59

  Squirrel, European, 234-235

  Sportsman, Cuba and the, 140

  St. Silverus, Legend of, 228

  Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, Letter from, 77

  Summer, Indian, 176

  Swan, White, 84


  Taffy and Tricksey, 17

  Thrush, The Hermit, 104

  Tea, 154-155

  Towhee, 158-160

  Trees, Awesome, 67

  Trees, Curious, 44

  Trees and Eloquence, 30

  Transplanting, A, 210

  Trout, Brook, 135-139


  Viceroy, Transformatian of the, 183


  Warbler, Black-Throated Blue, 46-48

  Warbler, Blue-Winged Yellow, 22

  Warbler, Chestnut-Sided, 38-41

  Warbler, Golden-Winged, 26

  Warbler, Maryland Yellow-Throat, 214-215

  Warbler, Mourning, 34-35

  Warbler, Myrtle, 14-15

  Warbler, Western Yellow-throat, 10-11

  Whip-poor-will, The, 66

  Wildcat, 230-233

  Winter Time, 212

  Wish-ton-wish, 162

  Wood, The Edge of the, 68

  Woodpecker, How It Knows, 144

  Woodpecker, Pileated, 217

  Woods, Our Native, 205

  Woods, Polished, 130-131



INDEX.

=Figures in black-faced type indicate Illustrations.=


  Acorns, Two.                                           Vol. v, 210

  African Folk Lore.                                     Vol. iv, 12

  Ah Me!                                                Vol. iv, 113

  Alaska, Birds of.                                      Vol. iv, 95

  Almond.                                           Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Almond, Flowering.                               Vol. iv, 193, 195

  All Nature.                                            Vol. iv, 37

  Anhinga, or Snake Bird.                          Vol. ii, =26=, 27

  Animal World,                                 In the. Vol. iv, 136

  Animals and Music.                                    Vol. iv, 159
    Among.                                               Vol. v, 185
    Count, Can?                                         Vol. iv, 180
    Hibernation of.                                       Vol. v, 84
    Pet, as Causes of Disease.                           Vol. vi, 26
    Rights.                                             Vol. iv, 225
    Some Propensities of.                                Vol. iv, 81
    Taming the Smaller Wild.                             Vol. v, 127
    The Talk of.                                        Vol. iv, 140
    Water and.                                           Vol. iv, 84
    When, Are Seasick.                                  Vol. vi, 192

  Antelope, The Pigmy.                             Vol. iv, =94=, 95

  Apple Blossoms,                                      Vol. iv, =36=
    Blossom Time.                                      Vol. iii, 153

  Arbutus, The Trailing.                                 Vol. v, 229

  Armadillo.                                     Vol. iv, 146, =147=
    As a Pet.                                            Vol. iv, 12

  Athena, the Birth of.                                   Vol. v, 29

  Audubon, John James.                                  Vol. ii, 161
    Society, One.                                      Vol. iii, 234

  Autumn.                                               Vol. iv, 132

  Aviaries.                                        Vol. iii, 121-122

  Avocet, American.                                Vol. ii, 14, =15=

  Azalea, The.                                         Vol. v, =143=

  Azamet, the Hermit, and His Dumb Friends.              Vol. iv. 33


  Babies, Wee.                                          Vol. vi, 161
    Baboon.                                       Vol. v, 217, =218=

  Bat, Black.                                    Vol. iv, =170=, 171
    The Hoary.                                    Vol. v, =166=, 167
    Red.                                         Vol. iv, =170=, 171

  Bats in Burmese Caves.                                 Vol. vi, 32
    Tame.                                               Vol. iv, 168

  Bee and the Flower.                                   Vol. vi, 164

  Bees, About.                                            Vol. v, 17

  Beetles.                                         Vol. vi, 92, =94=

  Bird, A Little.                                       Vol. iv, 162
    Courtships.                                         Vol. iv, 164
    Day.                                                Vol. iii, 82
    Day in the Schools.                                  Vol. i, 129
    Life, Destruction of.                                Vol. v, 109
    Lovers, Some.                                       Vol. iii, 81
    Lovers, Two.                                        Vol. vi, 212
    Miscellany.                                    Vol. ii, 195, 235
    Notes.                                              Vol. vi, 187
    of Paradise, the King.                  Vol. iv, 124, =126=, 127

  Bird, Only a.                                         Vol. iii, 73
    Study, The Psychology of.                            Vol. vi, 53
    Superstitious.                                Vol. iii, 132, 172
    Song.                               vi                 Vol. i, 187
    Song.                                         Vol. ii, 1, 41, 81
    Songs of Memory.                                   Vol. iii, 124
    Study, The Fascinations of.                        Vol. iii, 164
    The Flown.                                           Vol. vi, 61
    The Mound.                                         Vol. iii, 114
    Worth Its Weight in Gold.                           Vol. vi, 206

  Birds.                                                Vol. iv, 168

  Birds, Accidents to.                                   Vol. vi, 77
    and Animals of the Philippines.                      Vol. iv, 48
    and Farmers.                                         Vol. i, 213
    and Ornithologists.                                  Vol. vi, 80
    Answer.                                             Vol. iii, 83
    as Shepherds.                                         Vol. v, 20
    Carry Seeds, How.                                     Vol. v, 37
    Defense of Some.                                     Vol. v, 211
    Foreign Song Birds in Oregon.                      Vol. iii, 123
    Foretell Marriage.                                   Vol. iv, 16
    Gathered His Almond Crop.                           Vol. vi, 228
    Hints on the Study of Winter.                      Vol. iii, 109
    Honey.                                              Vol. vi, 116
    in Captivity.                                       Vol. ii, 121
    Interesting Facts About.                           Vol. iii, 100
    in the Schools.                                     Vol. iii, 20
    in Garden and Orchard.                              Vol. iv, 153
    in Storms.                                          Vol. iv, 163
    in the Iliad.                                       Vol. iv, 234
    in Town.                                             Vol. vi, 89
    Migratory.                                            Vol. v, 37
    Mentioned in the Bible.                              Vol. iv, 48
    Mounting of.                                         Vol. vi, 86
    Nebraska's Many.                                     Vol. vi, 84
    of Alaska.                                           Vol. iv, 95
    of Bethlehem.                                       Vol. ii, 223
    of Passage.                                         Vol. ii, 173
    of Prey, Useful.                                     Vol. iv, 88
    Pairing in Spring.                                 Vol. iii, 189
    Reasoning Powers of.                                 Vol. iv, 43
    Story.                                              Vol. ii, 224
    Sleeping-places of.                                 Vol. iv, 164
    that Do Not Sing.                                    Vol. v, 188
    The Return of the.                                   Vol. i, 101
    Traveling.                                           Vol. vi, 73
    Twilight.                                            Vol. vi, 67
    Wild, in London.                                     Vol. iv, 92
    Young Wild.                                          Vol. vi, 71

  Birdland, Stories from.                               Vol. vi, 229
    The Tramps of.                                      Vol. vi, 195

  Bittern, Least.                                 Vol. iii, =46=, 47

  Black Bird, Red-winged.                       Vol. i, 64, =69=, 71

  Blue Bird.                                Vol. i, 75, =76=, 78, 96
    Mountain.                                    Vol. ii, =203=, 205

  Blue Bird, The.                                      Vol. v, =181=
    The First.                                           Vol. v, 181

  Boarder, A Transient.                                  Vol. v, 101

  Bobolink.                                     Vol. i, 92, =93=, 94

  Bobolink.                                             Vol. vi, 215

  Bobolink's Song.                                       Vol. iv, 61

  Bob White.                              Vol. iii, 16, =18=, 19, 34

  Boy, Little, What the Wood Fire said to the.          Vol. vi, 173

  Brazil Nut.                                       Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Brook, A Book by the.                                  Vol. iv, 39

  Buddha, The Youth of.                                Vol. iii, 237

  Bunting, Indigo.                                     Vol. i, =172=
    Lazuli.                                 Vol. ii, 196, =198=, 199

  Butterflies.              Vol. iv., =63=, =103=, =145=, =183=, 223
    Love to Drink.                                      Vol. iv, 182
    Are Protected, How.                                  Vol. iv, 62

  Butterfly, The.                                       Vol. iv, 142
    Trade, The.                                          Vol. iv, 22

  Butternut, The.                                   Vol. v, =94=, 96


  Cactus.                                        Vol. iv, =210=, 211

  Canaries.                                      Vol. vi, =166=, 167

  Canon of the Colorado, The Grand.         Vol. vi, =106=, 107, 120

  Captives Escape.                                      Vol. ii, 116

  Catbird.                                   Vol. i, 183, 184, =186=

  Charity of Bread Crumbs, The.                          Vol. v, 115

  Charley and the Angleworm.                             Vol. vi, 12

  Chat, Yellow-breasted.      Vol. ii, 236, =238=, 239, Vol. iv, 149

  Cheeper, a Sparrow Baby.                              Vol. vi, 103

  Chestnut.                                         Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Chewink.                                            Vol. vi, =158=

  Chickadee, Black-capped.                   Vol. i, 161, =165=, 168

  Child-Study Literature, A Contribution to.             Vol. vi, 85

  Chimney Swift.                                 Vol. ii, =131=, 133

  Chimpanzee.                                         Vol. v, 1, =2=

  Chipmunk, The.                                 Vol. vi, =177=, 179

  Christmas Once Is Christmas Still.                    Vol. vi, 233
    Trees.                                              Vol. iv, 220

  Christmas, Where Missouri Birds Spend.                Vol. iii, 84

  Cineraria.                                           Vol. v, =236=

  Cloves.                                           Vol. v, 121, 122

  Coca.                                          Vol. vi, =202=, 203

  Cock of the Rock.                                 Vol. i, =19=, 21

  Cocoa-nut.                                        Vol. v, =94=, 95

  Cockatoo, Rose.                             Vol. iii. 29, 30, =31=

  Coffee.                                Vol. v, 197, 204-210, =207=

  Color Photographs and Conversation Lessons.           Vol. iv, 194

  Color Photograph, A Study of the.                     Vol. vi, 216

  Common Minerals and Valuable Ores.             Vol. vi, =189=, 191

  Constantinople, From.                                 Vol. iv, 158

  Contentment.                                         Vol. iii, 163

  Cony, The.                                      Vol. v, =202=, 203

  Coot, American.                             Vol. iii, 96, =98=, 99

  Count, Can Animals?                                   Vol. iv, 180

  Cowbird.                                            Vol. vi, =224=

  Coyote.                                          Vol. iv, =50=, 51

  Crane, Sandhill.                                  Vol. v, =46=, 47
    Queer Doings of a.                                  Vol. iii, 44

  Creeper, Brown.                          Vol. iii, 212, =214=, 215

  Crossbill, American.                            Vol. i, 126, =127=

  Crow, American.                              Vol. i, 97, 98, =100=

  Cruelty, The Badge of.                                Vol. vi, 128

  Crusade, The Feather.                                  Vol. v, 221

  Cuba and the Sportsman.                               Vol. vi, 140

  Cuckoo, Yellow-billed.                           Vol. ii, 94, =95=


  Dickcissel.                              Vol. iii, 146, =147=, 149

  December.                                             Vol. vi, 229

  Dog, The Pointer.                                Vol. vi, 49, =51=

  Duck, Bald Pate.                            Vol. iii, 48, =50=, 51
    Black.                                        Vol. iii, =86=, 87
    Canvas-back.                                   Vol. ii, 18, =20=
    Farms, Eider.                                      Vol. iii, 113
    Golden-eye, American.                             Vol. iv, =230=
    Mallard.                                   Vol. ii, 10, =11=, 13
    Mandarin.                                     Vol. i, 8, =9=, 11
    Old Squaw.                                  Vol. iii, =223=, 225
    Pintail.                               Vol. iii, 176, =178=, 179
    Red Head.                                    Vol. iv, 150, =151=
    Wood.                                      Vol. ii, =21=, 23, 24

  Dolphin, Bottlenose.                           Vol. iv, =134=, 135

  Dove, Mourning.                           Vol. ii, 111, 112, =113=
    Vol.                                                    iii, 204

  Doves of Venice.                                     Vol. iii, 100


  Eagle, The.                                         Vol. v, 24, 36
    Bald-headed.                                  Vol. ii, 2, =3=, 5

  Ears.                                                 Vol. iv, 121

  Earth, How Formed.                                  Vol. vi, =110=

  Egg Collecting.                                        Vol. v, 216
    What Is an?                                         Vol. iii, 60

  Eggs.                           Vol. iii, 154, =155=, =195=, =235=
    Bird's, Why and Wherefore of the Colors of.         Vol. vi, 152
    of the Birds, Let Us Protect.                      Vol. iii, 154

  Emperor's Bird's Nest, The.                            Vol. vi, 48

  Eyes.                                                 Vol. iv, 117


  Fashion's Clamor.                                     Vol. vi, 200

  Fashions, Spring.                                      Vol. v, 186

  Feather, Changes in Color.                            Vol. vi, =2=

  Feathers.                                              Vol. v, 161

  Feathers or Flowers?                                 Vol. iii, 180

  February.                                               Vol. v, 73

  Fern, The Petrified.                                   Vol. iv, 83

  Filbert.                                          Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Finch, Purple.                                  Vol. iii, =54=, 55

  Finns, Bird Lore of the Ancient.                      Vol. vi, 186

  Flicker.                                          Vol. i, =89=, 90

  Flamingo.                                      Vol. ii, 218, =221=

  Flower, The Bee and the.                              Vol. vi, 164

  Flowers, The Death of the.                            Vol. iv, 189
    The Language of.                                      Vol. v, 74
    Use of.                                              Vol. iv, 34
    with Horns and Claws.                                Vol. v, 132

  Fly-catcher, Arkansas.                        Vol. iii, 230, =231=
    Scissor-tailed.                               Vol. i, =161=, 163
    Vermillion.                                  Vol. ii, 192, =193=

  Forced Partnership, A.                                Vol. iii, 60

  Forests.                                         Vol. vi, 97-=102=

  Foster Brother's Kindness.                           Vol. iii, 194

  Fowls, Farm-yard.                              Vol. vi, =118=, 119

  Fox, American Gray.                       Vol. iv, 105, 106, =107=
    The Kit.                                           Vol. v, =182=
    Red.                                       Vol. iv, 66, =67=, 69

  Friend of Birds, A.                                   Vol. iii, 43


  Gallinule, Purple.                              Vol. i, 120, =121=

  Gameless Country, A.                                  Vol. iv, 229

  Ginger.                                           Vol. v, 49, =50=

  God's Silence and His Voices Also.                     Vol. v, 222

  Gnatcatcher, Blue-gray.                         Vol. iii, =94=, 95

  Goldenrod.                                Vol. iv, 154, =155=, 230

  Goldfinch, American.                      Vol. ii, =128=, 129, 130

  Goose, Canada.                           Vol. iii, 208, =210=, 211
    White-fronted.                          Vol. ii, 166, =168=, 169
    that Takes a Hen Sailing.                          Vol. iii, 194

  Grackle, Bronzed.                         Vol. ii, 228, =230=, 231

  Grape, The.                                     Vol. v, =178=, 179

  Grebe, Pied-billed.                        Vol. i, 134, =135=, 137

  Grosbeak, Evening.                           Vol. ii, 68, =70=, 71
    Rose-breasted.                                Vol. i, =113=, 115

  Grouse, Black.                                 Vol. ii, 217, =220=
    Dusky.                                      Vol. iii, 150, =151=
    Prairie Sharp-tailed.                        Vol. iv, =166=, 167
    Ruffed.                                  Vol. i, 218, =220=, 221

  Gull, Bonaparte's.                              Vol. v, =214=, 215
    Herring.                                       Vol. iv, =86=, 87
    Ring-billed.                                  Vol. i, 198, =199=


  Halo, The.                                             Vol. i, 150

  Hare, Epitaph of a.                                     Vol. v, 98

  Hare, The Northern Prairie.                          Vol. v, =106=

  Hawk, John's.                                          Vol. vi, 42
    Marsh.                                        Vol. i, 158, =159=
    Night.                                   Vol. i, 175, 176, =178=
    Red-shouldered.                            Vol. iv, 96, =98=, 99
    Red-tailed.                                  Vol. vi, =208=, 209
    Sparrow.                               Vol. iii, 105, 106, =107=

  Helpless, The.                                          Vol. v, 72

  Hen Sailing, A Goose that Takes a.                   Vol. iii, 194

  Heron, Black-crowned.                           Vol. i, =196=, 197
    Great Blue.                            Vol. iii, 190, =191=, 193
    Snowy.                                         Vol. ii, =38=, 39

  Hickory Nut.                                      Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Holly Tree, The.                                        Vol. v, 12

  Home, An Abandoned.                               Vol. v, 150, 198
    Returning.                                          Vol. vi, 115

  How the Birds Secured Their Rights.                   Vol. ii, 115

  Humming Birds.                            Vol. iv, 216, =218=, 219

  Humming Bird, Allen's.                         Vol. ii, 210, =211=
    A Rare.                                             Vol. vi, 145
    Ruby-throated.                           Vol. ii, 97, =100=, 103

  Humor, A Vein of.                                      Vol. v, 125

  Hyacinth. Vol.                                       v, =190=, 191


  Ibis, The White.                                  Vol. v, =70=, 71

  Ibis, White-faced Glossy.                     Vol. iii, 226, =227=

  I Can but Sing.                                      Vol. iii, 186

  Indirection.                                           Vol. vi, 22

  In Orders Gray.                                       Vol. vi, 237

  Insect Life Underground.                         Vol. vi, 92, =94=

  Instinct and Reason.                                   Vol. iv, 73

  Iris.                                             Vol. v, 74, =75=

  Iron Ores.                                     Vol. vi, =189=, 191


  Jay, American Blue.                               Vol. i, =39=, 41

  Jay, Arizona Green.                             Vol. i, 146, =148=

  Jay, Canada.                               Vol. i, 116, =117=, 119

  Jim and I.                                            Vol. vi, 149

  Junco, Slate-Colored.                          Vol. ii, =153=, 155

  June.                                           Vol. iii, 201, 202

  June, A Day in.                                         Vol. vi, 8


  Kangaroo.                                            Vol. v, =157=

  Kingbird.                                 Vol. ii, 156, =158=, 159

  Kingbird, Arkansas.                           Vol. iii, 230, =231=

  Kingfisher, American.                         Vol. i, 60, =61=, 63
    European.                               Vol. ii, 188, =190=, 191

  Kinglet, Ruby-crowned.                         Vol. ii, 108, =110=


  Lady's Slipper, The.                           Vol. vi, 146, =148=

  Lark, The.                                            Vol. ii, 134

  Lark, Horned.                                  Vol. ii, 134, =135=
    Meadow.                                  Vol. i, 105, =106=, 108

  Lemon, The.                                       Vol. v, 13, =15=

  Life in a Nest.                                       Vol. iii, 69

  Lilies, Water.                                   Vol. vi, =82=, 83

  Lincoln, Washington and.                                Vol. v, 60

  Little Billee, The Story of.                            Vol. v, 41

  Little Busy Bodies.                                    Vol. v, 113

  Lion, African.                                 Vol. iv, =206=, 207

  Loon.                                            Vol. iv, =58=, 59

  Longspur, Smith's.                              Vol. i, =123=, 125

  Lory, Blue Mountain.                              Vol. i, =66=, 67

  Lost Mate.                                            Vol. ii, 126

  Lurlaline.                                             Vol. vi, 85

  Lyre Bird.                                     Vol. vi, 218, =219=


  Mandioca.                                              Vol. vi, 72

  Marbles.                                          Vol. vi, =62= 65

  March.                                                Vol. iii, 82

  March and May.                                         Vol. v, 212

  Maryland Yellow-throat.                        Vol. vi, =214=, 215

  Mayflowers, The.                                       Vol. vi, 37

  Memory, Bird Songs of.                               Vol. iii, 124

  Merganser, The Hooded.                          Vol. v, =118=, 119
    Red Breasted.                                  Vol. ii, 54, =55=

  Midsummer.                                             Vol. iv, 65

  Minerals.                                            Vol. vi, =74=

  Miscellany.                                           Vol. iv, 109

  Mississippi, The.                                   Vol. vi, =174=

  Mistletoe, Myths and the.                             Vol. iv, 212
    The.                                            Vol. v, =22=, 23

  Mole, Common American.                          Vol. v, 133, =134=
    The Duck.                                       Vol. v, 80, =82=
    The Hairy-tailed.                             Vol. v, 230, =231=

  Mot Mot, Mexican.                                 Vol. i, 49, =57=

  Moths.                                              Vol. iv, =183=

  Mocking Bird, American.                    Vol. i, 192, =193=, 201
                                                         Vol. iv, 61

  Mountain Lion.                                    Vol. v, =10=, 11

  Music, Color in.                                Vol. iii, 161, 162

  Murre, Brunnichs.                             Vol. iii, =206=, 207

  My Neighbor in the Apple Tree.                          Vol. vi, 1


  Narcissus, The.                                Vol. vi, =198=, 199

  National Council of Women.                             Vol. i, 150

  Nature at First Hand.                                  Vol. v, 175
    Accordance of.                                       Vol. vi, 80
    Some Lovers of.                                    Vol. iii, 229
    Study and Nature's Rights.                          Vol. iv, 176
    Study; How a Naturalist Is Trained.                  Vol. vi, 41
    Study in the Public Schools.                         Vol. vi, 79
    The Voice of.                                       Vol. iv, 136

  Nature's Adjustments.                                  Vol. iv, 41
    Grotesque.                                          Vol. iv, 149
    Orchestra.                                          Vol. iv, 161

  Nest, A Metal Bird's.                                  Vol. vi, 32
    A Winter.                                           Vol. ii, 192
    Story of a.                                         Vol. vi, 188

  Nests, Birds'.                                       Vol. iii, 204

  Nesting Time.                                     Vol. i, 149, 150

  Niagara Falls.                                 Vol. vi, =142=, 143

  Nightingale.                             Vol. iii, 136, =138=, 139
    To a.                                              Vol. iii, 141

  Nonpareil.                                      Vol. i, =1=, 3, 15

  Noses.                                                  Vol. v, 65

  Nutmeg.                                         Vol. v, 145, =149=

  Nuthatch, White-breasted.                      Vol. ii, =118=, 119

  Nuts.                                             Vol. v, 26, =27=


  Oak, The.                                              Vol. v, 134

  Oak, The Brave Old.                                   Vol. vi, 102

  Ocelot.                                          Vol. iv, 30, =31=

  October.                                              Vol. iv, 157

  Oil Wells.                                          Vol. vi, =122=

  Old Abe.                                               Vol. ii, 35

  Oologists, A Suggestion to.                            Vol. vi, 20

  Opossum, The Crab-eating.                         Vol. v, =58=, 59

  Optimus.                                              Vol. vi, 109

  Ores.                                            Vol. vi, =70=, 71

  Ornithological Congress, 1897.                        Vol. ii, 201

  Oriole, Baltimore.                         Vol. i, 205, 206, =207=
    Orchard.                                      Vol. i, =156=, 157
    Golden.                                         Vol. i, 34, =36=

  Osprey, American.                            Vol. ii, 42, =43=, 45

  Ostrich.                                 Vol. iii, =166=, 167, 168

  Otter, American.                          Vol. iv, 172, =174=, 175

  Our Neighbor.                                        Vol. iii, 203

  Ovenbird.                                     Vol. iii, =126=, 127
    The Golden Crowned Thrush.                           Vol. vi, 90

  Owls.                                                   Vol. v, 78

  Owl's Sanctuary, The.                                  Vol. v, 223

  Owl, The American Barn.                         Vol. v, =154=, 155
    The Early.                                          Vol. iii, 12
    Long-eared.                                Vol. i, 109, 111, 112
    Sanctuary, The.                                      Vol. v, 223
    Screech.                                 Vol. i, =151=, 153, 154
    Saw-whet.                                 Vol. iii, 61, 62, =63=
    Short-eared.                              Vol. iii, 25, 26, =27=
    Snowy.                                   Vol. i, 209, 210, =211=


  Paradise, Birds of.                                  Vol. iii, 140

  Paradise, Red Bird of.                        Vol. i, 22, =23=, 25
    Kingbird of.                            Vol. iv, 124, =126=, 127

  Park, Forest.                                          Vol. vi, 61

  Paroquet, The.                                        Vol. vi, 169
    The Carolina.                                Vol. vi, =170=, 173

  Parrakeet, Australian.                            Vol. i, 16, =18=

  Parrot, Double Yellow-headed.            Vol. iii, 181, 182, =183=

  Parrot, King.                                       Vol. i, 50, 51

  Partridge, Gambel's.                             Vol. ii, =78=, 79
    Mountain.                                     Vol. iii, 34, =35=
    Scaled.                                     Vol. iii, 114, =115=

  Peach, The.                                    Vol. vi, 182, =183=

  Peacock, The.                                           Vol. v, 77

  Pea Nut.                                          Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Pecan.                                            Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Peccary.                                       Vol. iv, 128, =130=

  Perch, The Yellow.                                   Vol. vi, =86=

  Pet, A Household.                                      Vol. iv, 52

  Petrel, Stormy.                         Vol. iii, 88, =90=, 91, 92

  Pewee, Wood.                         Vol. ii, 144, =146=, 147, 148

  Pheasant, Golden.                                 Vol. i, 12, =13=
    Japan.                                          Vol. i, =86=, 88
    Ringnecked.                                  Vol. ii, 232, =233=
    Silver.                                     Vol. iii, 110, =111=

  Phalarope, Wilson's.                             Vol. ii, =66=, 67

  Philippine Islands, Plant Products of.                Vol. vi, 115

  Phoebe.                                        Vol. ii, =106=, 107

  Pictures, The Influence of.                            Vol. vi, 78

  Pigeon, Crowned.                                  Vol. iii, =6=, 7
    Passenger.                                  Vol. iii, 21, 22, 23
                                                         Vol. iv, 25

  Pigeons, The.                                          Vol. iii, 4

  Pine, The Edible.                                 Vol. v, =94=, 96

  Pineapple.                                      Vol. v, 110, =111=

  Plant, A Fly-catching.                                 Vol. vi, 29

  Pleas for the Speechless.                             Vol. iii, 33

  Plover, Belted Piping.                         Vol. ii, 174, =175=
    Golden.                                      Vol. iv, =178=, 179
    Semipalmated Ring.                            Vol. ii, 6, =8=, 9
    Snowy.                                        Vol. iii, 70, =71=

  Pointer, The.                                    Vol. vi, 49, =51=

  Pokagon, Chief Simon.                                  Vol. v, 173

  Porcupine, Canadian.                           Vol. iv, 186, =187=

  Prairie Hen.                                      Vol. iv, =18=-20
    Lesser.                                       Vol. iii, 74, =75=

  Prophet, Ted's Weather.                               Vol. vi, 180

  Puffin, Tufted.                                Vol. iv, =138=, 139

  Puma.                                             Vol. v, =10=, 11


  Quadrille, The Quails'.                                Vol. v, 176

  Quarrel Between Jenny Wren and the Flycatchers.        Vol. v, 192

  Queer Relations.                                     Vol. iii, 233


  Rabbit, American.                                Vol. iv, 26, =27=

  Raccoon, American.                               Vol. iv, =90=, 91

  Rail, Sora.                                  Vol. ii, 46, =48=, 49

  Raven and the Dove.                                    Vol. vi, 36

  Red Bird, American.                               Vol. i, 72, =74=

  Redbreast, Invitation to.                              Vol. v, 158

  Rhea, South American.                    Vol. iii, =166=, 167, 168

  Robert and Peepsey.                                   Vol. vi, 221

  Robin, American.                          Vol. i, 54, =55=, 59

  Rocks, Terraced, Yellowstone Park.                  Vol. vi, =110=

  Roller, Swallow-tailed Indian.                    Vol. i, 42, =43=

  Rooster, That.                                        Vol. vi, 132

  Rooster and Hen.                                    Vol. vi, =118=


  Sandpiper, Bartramian.                        Vol. iii, =134=, 135

  Sandpiper, Least.                                Vol. iv, 70, =71=

  Sandpiper, Pectoral.                           Vol. iv, 114, =115=

  Sapsucker, Yellow-bellied.                Vol. ii, 137, =140=, 143

  Sap Action.                                             Vol. v, 54

  Science, Outdoor.                                      Vol. vi, 24

  Scoter, American.                                Vol. ii, 32, =33=

  Sea Children, The.                                     Vol. vi, 79

  Seal, Threatened Extermination of the Fur.            Vol. vi, 181

  Seasick, When Animals are.                            Vol. vi, 192

  Secrets of an Old Garden.                              Vol. iv, 16

  Seminary for Teaching Birds How to Sing.               Vol. iv, 78

  Sheep, Mountain.                                     Vol. iv, =74=

  Shells and Shell Fish.                           Vol. vi, =58=, 59

  Ship of the Desert, The.                                Vol. v, 37

  Shrike, Loggerhead.                             Vol. i, 202, =203=

  Silk Worm.                                     Vol. iv, 222, =223=

  Skin.                                                  Vol. v, 137

  Skunk, American.                                    Vol. iv, =233=

  Skylark.                       Vol. ii, =61=, 63, 64. Vol. iv, 176

  Snake Bird (Anhinga).                            Vol. ii, =26=, 27

  Snipe, Wilson's.                                   Vol. iv, =6=, 7

  Snowbirds.                                            Vol. ii, 170

  Snowflake.                                Vol. ii, =150=, 151, 152

  Snowflakes.                               Vol. iv, 229. Vol. v, 89

  Songsters, About the.                                  Vol. iv, 21

  Sparrow. English.                         Vol. ii, 206, =208=, 209
                                                       Vol. iii, 175
    Fox.                                          Vol. iii, =14=, 15
    New Champion for the.                               Vol. iv, 135
    Song.                                      Vol. ii, 90, =91=, 93

  Spoonbill, Roseate.                      Vol. iii, 142, =143=, 145

  Sportsman, Cuba and the.                              Vol. vi, 140

  Sportsman, The Bloodless.                              Vol. iv, 39

  Spring, The Coming of.                                 Vol. v, 168

  Spring Thoughts.                                     Vol. iii, 185

  Springtime, A.                                         Vol. v, 156

  Squirrel, Gray.                                Vol. iv, 110, =111=
    European.                                         Vol. vi, =234=
    Flying.                                      Vol. iv, =214=, 215
    Fox.                                       Vol. iv, =54=, 55, 56
    Red.                                           Vol. iv, =14=, 15
    The Hunted.                                         Vol. iv, 119
    Town.                                                 Vol. iv, 4

  Squirrel's Use of His Tail, The.                       Vol. v, 103
    Road.                                                Vol. iv, 44

  St. Silverus, Legend of.                              Vol. vi, 228

  Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, Letter from.                  Vol. vi, 77

  Stilt, Black necked.                          Vol. iii, =174=, 175

  Study, A Window.                                        Vol. v, 90

  Summer, Indian.                                       Vol. vi, 176

  Summer Pool, The.                                      Vol. v, 218

  Swallow, Barn.                                    Vol. i, 79, =80=

  Swan, Black.                                Vol. iii, 65, 66, =67=

  Swan, White.                                     Vol. vi, =82=, 84

  Symbol, A.                                            Vol. iv, 208


  Taffy and Tricksey.                                    Vol. vi, 17

  Tanager, Summer.                               Vol. ii, =163=, 165

  Tanager, Red rumped.                          Vol. i, 30, =31=, 33

  Tanager, Scarlet.                          Vol. i, 214, =216=, 217

  Tarsier, The.                                          Vol. v, 228

  Teal, Green-winged.                       Vol. ii, 213, 214, =215=

  Tenants, The New.             Vol. iii, 37, 77, 117, 157, 197, 220

  Tern, Common.                                    Vol. iv, =46=, 47
    Black.                                        Vol. i, =103=, 104
    Caspian.                                     Vol. iv, 190, =191=

  Tea.                                           Vol. vi, =154=, 155

  Tess.                                                    Vol. v, 1

  Thirty Miles for an Acorn.                             Vol. iv, 29

  Thoughts.                                            Vol. iii, 146

  Thrush, Brown.                                Vol. i, 82, 83, =84=
    Hermit.                                    Vol. ii, 86, =88=, 89
    The Hermit.                                         Vol. vi, 104
    The Water.                                    Vol. v, =226=, 227
    Wood.                                    Vol. i, 179, 180, =181=

  Titmouse, Tufted.                                 Vol. v, 97, =98=

  To a Water Fowl.                                       Vol. ii, 76

  Tongues.                                                 Vol. v, 5

  Toucan, Yellow-throated.                      Vol. i, 26, =27=, 29

  Towhee.                                         Vol. vi, =158=-161

  Transplanting, A.                                     Vol. vi, 210

  Trees. Vol.                                                 v, 233
    Awesome.                                             Vol. vi, 67
    Curious.                                             Vol. vi, 44
    and Eloquence.                                       Vol. vi, 30

  Trogon, Resplendent.                             Vol. i, 4, =5=, 7

  Tropic Bird, Yellow-billed.               Vol. ii, 184, =186=, 187

  Trout, Brook.                                  Vol. vi, =135=, 137

  Trumpeters, The.                                       Vol. v, 120

  Turgenief, Ivan, Prose Poems of.                       Vol. v, 180

  Turkey, Wild.                             Vol. ii, 177, =180=, 183

  Turkey's Farewell.                                    Vol. iv, 162

  Turnstone.                                     Vol. ii, 170, =171=

  Turtle, The Geographic.                           Vol. v, 62, =63=
    Snapping.                                       Vol. v, 38, =39=


  Verdin.                                        Vol. ii, =226=, 227

  Viceroy, Transformation of the.                       Vol. vi, 185

  Vireo, Red-eyed.                             Vol. iii, 8, =10=, 11
    Vol. v, 194

  Vireo, Warbling.                               Vol. ii, 138, =141=
    Yellow-throated.                              Vol. i, =189=, 191

  Voices.                                               Vol. iv, 201

  Vulture, California.                           Vol. iv, 226, =227=
    Turkey.                                    Vol. ii, 72, =73=, 75

  Vultures, Vision and Scent of.                         Vol. v, 163


  Walnut, The Black.                                Vol. v, =94=, 96

  Walnut, English.                                  Vol. v, 26, =27=

  Warbler, Black-and-White Creeping.              Vol. i, 222, =224=
    Blackburnian.                                Vol. ii, =123=, 125
    Black-throated Blue.                            Vol. vi, =46=-48
    Bay-breasted.                               Vol. iii, =170=, 171
    Blue-winged Yellow.                                Vol. vi, =22=
    Cape May.                                       Vol. v, 86, =87=
    Cerulean.                                    Vol. ii, 178, =181=
    Chestnut-sided.                                    Vol, vi, =38=
    Golden winged.                                     Vol. vi, =26=
    Kentucky.                                  Vol. ii, 50, =51=, 53
    Magnolia.                                   Vol. iii, 186, =187=
    Maryland Yellow-throat.                      Vol. vi, =214=, 215
    Mourning.                                      Vol. vi, =34=, 35
    Myrtle.                                        Vol. vi, 14, =15=
    Nashville.                                    Vol. v, 169, =171=
    Prothonotary.                            Vol. i, 166, =169=, 171
    Western Yellow throat.                         Vol. vi, =10=, 11
    Yellow.                                        Vol. ii, =83=, 85

  Warning, A Timely.                                      Vol. v, 89

  Washington and Lincoln.                                 Vol. v, 60

  Water Fowl, To a.                                      Vol. ii, 76

  Wax Wing, Bohemian.                             Vol. i, =140=, 141
    Cedar.                                        Vol. v, 193, =195=

  We Believe It.                                         Vol. v, 109

  Whip-poor-will.                                Vol. v, 2, =34=, 35

  White, Gilbert and Selbourne.                         Vol. iii, 41

  Wild Animals, Taming the Smaller.                      Vol. v, 127

  Wild Cat.                                       Vol. vi, =230=-233

  Winter Time.                                          Vol. vi, 212

  Wish-ton-wish,                                        Vol. vi, 162

  Winter's Walk, A.                                     Vol. iv, 221

  Wolf, Black.                                      Vol. iv, 8, =10=
    Prairie.                                       Vol. iv, =50=, 51

  Wood, Pewee                          Vol. ii, 144, =146=, 147, 148

  Wood, The Edge of the.                                 Vol. vi, 68

  Woodchuck.                                      Vol. v, =130=, 131

  Woodcock, American.                          Vol. ii, 28, =30=, 31

  Woodmen, Five Little.                                   Vol. v, 91

  Woodpecker, Arctic Three-toed.           Vol. iii, 128, =130=, 131
    California.                              Vol. i, 130, =131=, 133
    Downy.                                 Vol. iii, 216, =218=, 219
    How It Knows.                                       Vol. vi, 144
    Ivory-billed.                          Vol. iii, 101, 102, =103=
    Pileated.                                           Vol. vi, 217
    Red-bellied.                              Vol. iii, 56, =58=, 59
    Red-headed.                                 Vol. i, 45, 46, =47=
    Story, Emerson and the.                               Vol. v, 56

  Woods, Our Native.                                    Vol. vi, 205
    Polished.                                    Vol. vi, =130=, 131

  Wooing Birds' Odd Ways.                               Vol. iii, 52

  Wren, House.                               Vol. ii, 99, =101=, 104
    Long-billed, Marsh.                      Vol. i, 142, =144=, 145
    The Envious.                                        Vol. iv, 185

  Wrens.                                               Vol. iii, 204


  Yellow Legs.                                     Vol. ii, 58, =60=



  +----------------------------------------------------------------- +
  | Transcriber's Note:                                              |
  |                                                                  |
  | Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.     |
  |                                                                  |
  | Correction noted: "chocalade" changed to "chocolate" (p. 203).   |
  |                                                                  |
  | Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant |
  | form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.    |
  |                                                                  |
  | Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.            |
  |                                                                  |
  | Mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved between paragraphs   |
  | and some illustrations have been moved closer to the text that   |
  | references them.                                                 |
  |                                                                  |
  | Italicized words are surrounded by underline characters,         |
  | _like this_.  Words in bold characters are surrounded by equal   |
  | signs, =like this=.                                              |
  |                                                                  |
  | The title page information and Contents table were added by the  |
  | transcriber.                                                     |
  |                                                                  |
  | The index contains links to articles in other issues of _Birds   |
  | and Nature_ magazine: Volume VI Number 1, June, 1899, Volume VI  |
  | Number 2, September, 1899, Volume VI Number 3, October, 1899,    |
  | Volume VI Number 4, November, 1899.                              |
  +------------------------------------------------------------------+





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