ORNITHOLOGY 



311 



ened section where the nests are lo- 

 cated. Several of the nests have been 

 partly filled with them. No one has 

 seen a hen in the act of carrying one, 

 but there seems no other possible ex- 

 planation of their presence in this 

 strange location. The place is rat proof. 

 Now the question is, Why? That they 

 do it is a fact. We are prepared by 

 jrnst experience to be called a nature 

 faker, but that will not explain the fact. 



The Christmas Bird Census. 



The Christmas Bird Census, conduct- 

 ed annually by "Bird-Lore," has re- 

 vealed many interesting facts and 

 much valuable information in regard 

 to the winter movements of the birds. 

 Would not a census from widely sep- 

 arated localities, especially from those 

 along known migration routes, during 

 the periods of migration in both spring 

 and fall be of even greater value? W'e 

 have known to a certain extent the 

 winter ranges of most of the species 

 recorded in the Christmas census, but 

 when we search for definite dates of 

 arrival and departure of many of our 

 common birds in well-known localities, 

 they are surprisingly hard to find. To 

 know where the various species are at 

 the most interesting time of their 

 movements, when really the least is 

 known about them, would add to our 

 sum total of ornithological knowledge, 

 and should prove valuable to the some- 

 what meagre information on this sub- 

 ject at present available to the student. 

 We should like to see something defi- 

 nite and systematic undertaken along 

 these lines. 



During a recent campaign in the in- 

 terest of bird study and bird protection 

 at St. Paul, Minnesota, over four thous- 

 and bird houses were constructed by 

 boys of the public schools, these being 

 brought together under one large ex- 

 exhibit, and later erected in the parks 

 and private property about the city. 

 This should do much toward conserv- 

 ing the bird life of the city, which in 

 turn will greatly reduce the number of 

 injurious insects preying upon the tres, 

 thereby helping to make St. Paul a 

 more comfortable, healthful and beauti- 

 ful place in which to live. 



TIME'S SYMPHONY. 



BY MISS ORA SINGF.R, HARVARD, ILLINOIS. 



The sad, sweet chords of Autumn 

 Lend a weird pathetic part 

 In the strains of Time's soft music 

 Played upon the year's mute harp. 



Tlien the deeper tones of Winter 

 Add a rich and minor strain 

 When in solemn meditation 

 Nature's heart feels thrills of pain. 



But the clear bright notes of Springtime 

 Wake her from her Winter sleep 

 And our dear old Mother Nature 

 Rainy tears of joy doth weep. 



And the blitlie sweet tones of Summer fol- 

 low these 

 And gently blend 

 In the year's full deep Sonata 

 And in richest measures end. 



Then there follow quickly onward — many 



years 

 'Til there remains 

 One glad symphony of Nature 

 Let us all take heart again. 



For from even darkest memories 

 When our hearts were filled with fears. 

 Come there — richest harmonies 

 In this symphony of years. 



The Sequence. 



The Spring is knocking at our gates, 

 But Winter's bolts hold fast; 



Of weary weeks of snow and ice 

 May March contain the last. 



For April, bonny April's near, 

 With palette and with brush. 



To paint anew the brown old earth, 

 And make it green and lush; 



And ready for the Queen of May, 



With all her flowery train, 

 Her miracles renewed each year, 



With sunshine after rain. 



Then June, the bride, comes tripping in, 

 A-blush with blossoms sweet. 



And all the world, in merry mood, 

 In homage at her feet. 



Midsummer brings vacation days, 

 When her work, too, seems done; 



Though Nature takes no respite now, 

 But works from sun to sun. 



Fruition needs her every care. 



And, though of hours shorn, 

 A treasure-trove are Autumn days. 



Their signet, plenty's horn. 



And then must follow well-earned rest. 

 When, under blanket white, 



With all the stars as sentinels. 



The earth sleeps through her night. 



— Emma Peirce. 



