20 



THE OOLOGIST 



editorial mind at this time. Many 

 weary hours have we spent recently in 

 trying to unravel the arrangement of 

 large collection of eggs that recently 

 came into our possession, all because 

 of the lack of proper care in original- 

 ly marking the specimens. To make 

 the markings on the eggs gibe with 

 the datas is something of a chore 

 when several sets of "a-5" or "1-4" ap- 

 pear in the same series. Also a la- 

 mentable lack of fullness of details 

 is noticeable in many instances in the 

 datas, all of which is both mystifying 

 and annoying. 



"March-ing." 



Howard W. McMillen. 

 One Saturday last March. I was in- 

 dulging in one of my frequent tramps 

 through the woods, then bare and cov- 

 ered with snow, when my attention 

 was arrested by a group of blue jays 

 holding a noisy consultation over a 

 knot hole about twenty feet from the 

 ground in an ash tree. At my ap- 

 proach they hastily adjourned to an- 

 other locality (I had not presumed it 

 was a private affair, judging from the 

 racket), while I solved the problem 

 which had been the topic of their dis- 

 cussion. It was a few minutes work 

 to chmb to the hole which was large 

 enough to admit my arm. By stretch- 

 ing this member (which, in my case, is 

 more useful than ornamental), I suc- 

 ceeded in reaching and bringing to 

 light the object of the blue jays' con- 

 cern and my curiosity, a fine gray 

 screech owl. But he presented himself 

 rather in the light of a dilemma, for 

 two able arms were required for the 

 descent, and at least a hand to handle 

 the bird. Little things like this, how- 

 ever, never trouble an ornithologist. 

 [ took off a glove, and into it invert- 

 ed the bird; if he resented it at all, 

 his stoicism did not suffer him to dis- 



play his resentment. By holding the 

 glove in my teeth, the decent was 

 easy. I carried the solemn bird home, 

 exhibited him to the family then put 

 him in a cage for a little observation 

 and experiment. None of these things 

 disturbed the profundity of his medi- 

 tations, or melted the iciness of his 

 frigid reserve. 



As soon as it was dark, I went out 

 to the straw stack and caught a passer 

 domesticus, a few of which we suffer 

 to remain about the place, and put it 

 in the cage with the owl. For the first 

 time was his serene majesty disturbed. 

 It was hard to distinguish whether owl 

 or sparrow was more frightened. After 

 a while the violent agitation of each 

 began to subside, the owl began to re- 

 sume his hereditary semblance of dig- 

 nity, and the sparrow his hereditary 

 reality of impudence, which it mani- 

 fested by pecking megascops in the, 

 face. Prom this front view it seemed 

 to recognize an old enemy, and sought 

 safety, not in one of the opposite cor- 

 ners of the cage, but on the owl's 

 head, where he could not be easily 

 reached. This perch soon began to 

 manifest its instability, and the spar- 

 row took up another quarter of the 

 cage. When I left them, the owl 

 wore an expression of offended dig- 

 nity, and the sparrow was vigilantly 

 watching his buukmate, least he 

 should undertake some violence.- 



In the morning the sparrow was 

 dead. It might have died through 

 fear, but, considering its proximity to 

 a healthy megascops asio, a more 

 natural explanation presents itself. I 

 was compelled to be away during the 

 day, but at night I found that the body 

 of the passer domesticus had been 

 decapitated. Where the head goes, so 

 generally goes the body, and* I pre- 

 sume that it would have been thus 

 here; but my purposes had been satis- 

 fied, and each were disposed of as they 

 merited. I gave the sparrow to the 

 cat and the owl to the darkness. 



