The OoLOGiST. 



TOL. X. ALBION, N. 



COLLECTING AT NIGHT. 



A Tale of th3 Adventures of a Tough, but 

 Nervy, Young Egg-crank. 



BV DlDYMlS. 



In the Course of discussion with a young friend 



of mine. 

 As to who could write poetry in a manner so 



fine 

 That the boys of your paper would all think it's 



great— 

 I grabbed up my pencil, my sponge and my 



slate 

 And wrote off the doings I'm about to relate. 

 For I am a poet as all of you know. 

 And my power to please 1 surely can show. 

 So here is a poem in meter and rhyme 

 Which J feel very certain will win every time; 

 My subject's attractive as it deals with a crime. 



Way back in the seventies there lived a young 

 kid 



In whose little carcass all the evils were hid— 



Which together, combining, produced the egg- 

 crank ; 



He had all the features, on that you can bank 



Your last dollar and win: Great Scott! he was 

 rank. 



Now this tough little ;AIeck, fifteen years old 

 or so. 



Used to guy all the school-marms to whom he 



did go- 

 Till his poor widowed mother, to save the dis- 

 grace 



Took the kid out of school and found him a 

 ace 



On a farm, as 'twas plain he must work: a clear 

 case. 



So he w.atered the chickens and curried the Cow ; 



Dug out the woodchucks, fed the pigs and fol- 

 lowed the plow. 



He was not very large, but a tough little pill. 



Who could hustle 'the harrow, the grindstone 

 or drill; 



In fact there-s no business but he thought he 

 could tin. 



The farmer was tickled and so was his spouse 



To secure a good youngester to milk and drive 

 cows 



And so this young egg-crank sijt)n g line J their 

 esteem : 



Fed on honey, preserves, ham and eggs, milk 

 and cream— 



And the scheme he soon worked slid off like a 

 dream. 



Y., DEC, 1893. NO. 12 



His mother Instructed iii<- hos.s ot me i;inn 

 That this boy was an egg-crank, and to prevent 



harm. 

 The best way to fix him, was not to permit 

 A single day's outing. A sensible hit. 

 So the kid made a play, and the old farmer bit. 

 The season was spring and the month it was 



May- 

 Aud the cute kid had permission to sleep on the 



hay. 

 So at night when he'd go to the barn for his 



rest 

 He'd fly to the woods ixuii the Helds for a nest. 

 In a manner the granger would never have 



guessed. 

 In this way the Kid who had good eyes for finds 

 When working in the day time, secured many 



kinds. 

 He had Chippies and Bluebirds and Lark's eggs 



not a few ; 

 There were eggs of the Wood Thrush of deli- 

 cate blue. 

 Green Catb-rds, rare Vireos and Orioles too. 

 Nighthawk's eggs were in this collection well 



hid; 

 Whip-poor-will's and some Kllldeer's under 



securely locked lid. 

 He had Shrike's eggs "and Blue,jay's taken time 



and again— 

 Forty-eight kinds of eggs he had taken and 



then- 

 He found a new treasurer, the nest of a Wren. 



Now this House Wren It built in the end of a 



gable. 

 Of the hou.se. and this kid wondered how he'd 



be able 

 To scoop the eggs safely, with the farmer so 



near 

 But he planned the wliole matter in a way that 



I fear 

 A few of my readers will think rather queer. 



He took a long rope to a tree on the side 



Of the house and then to It the rope he fast 



tied. 

 With a prde quickly poked the rojje over the 



peak 

 Then listened and faltered already to xneak 

 Should the farmer be wakened and the kitchen 



door creak. 



He next made a loop In the end of the rope 

 And HtarU'd to climb, very still, let us hope; 

 Till at last on the roof he jtaused for a rest- 

 He viewed Mv surrouudlngw ere he plundered 



the ne.'-t. 

 And the sight that he saw you'd sr iircely havi- 



guessed. 



