126 



ORNITHOLOGIST 



[Vol. 14-No. 8 



Correspondence. 



Editor O. & O. : 



I believe that it may be worth recording 

 tliafc on July 1st I took, at Truro, a Mocking- 

 bird (Mimiis poli/f/lottus), a male, I infer from 

 his persistent singing. 



I first observed him Sunday, June 30, and 

 watched him all the afternoon to see if there 

 was a pair of them. The locality is intervale 

 with a few elms and several small clumps of 

 bushes, so I had eveiy chance to discover 

 another if it was there. Being convinced that 

 he was alone I started to bag him at 4 o'clock 

 A.M., next morning; coidd hear him before 1 

 reached the intervale, and in a few minutes 

 shot him from the top of a tall elm. He came 

 down and I found that I had knocked about 

 quarter of an inch off of his upper mandible, 

 and with this exception he was apparently un- 

 hurt. 



Of course my first thought was that it was 

 possibly an escaped cage bird, but a moments 

 examination showed that the idea was lui- 

 founded, as his plumage was perfect, wings 

 and tail unchafed, and feet and claws clean 

 and unmarked by the i^erch as cage birds al- 

 ways are. 



I see by "Cones' Key" and "Birds of New 

 England" that this capture places the Mock- 

 ingbird further north than any recorded. 



I could not kill him when I found how little 

 Imrt he was, but put him in a cage where he 

 is at present, and seems likely to live and be- 

 come reconciled to his new quarters. 



Same morning I took a $ Black-billed Cuc- 

 koo, which is rare here (in localities where I 

 collect at any rate.) 



Can you tell me if a Kaven ever has a white 

 or yellow bill ? The only live Raven that I 

 got close enough to examine apparently had an 

 ivory-colored bill. It might possibly be 

 coated with something it was eating,but seemed 

 to be the color of the bill. 



Chns. A. McLennan. 

 Truro, Nova Scotia, July 8, 1889. 



Editor O. & O.: 



Those sprightful little fellows popularly 

 known as "tip ups" are usually well able to 

 care for themselves, but years ago before the 

 O. & O. began its valuable record of bird notes 

 I witnessed the death of one in a manner 

 which I have not since seen recorded. 



Along the marshy bank of a river where 

 small pieces of drift wood had collected and 

 settled in the soft sand, forming a resting 



place for turtles and a choice picking ground 

 for Sandpipers, I was attracted by a fiuttering 

 of white feathers, which proved to be a Least 

 Sandpiper struggling on the surface of an inch 

 or so of water which covered the mud. Think- 

 ing it simi)ly a wounded bird I reached for it 

 but found it firmly held in some unseen trap 

 which prompted further investigation. A 

 stick pried into the soft mud gradually brought 

 to the surface a medium sized "mud" turtle 

 with the leg of the bird firmly grasped in its 

 mouth, and it took the blade of a knife to in- 

 duce him to release his grip. The bird was 

 badly injured and died soon after being 

 released. Frank S. Daytjett. 



Duluth, Minn. 



Editor O. d- O.: 



From time to time, 1 have noticed in your 

 valuable journal articles soliciting contribu- 

 tions from "young" ornithologists. The arti- 

 cle in the May number by Harry R. Taylor, on 

 "Songs in the Night," recalled to mind a few 

 observations in my own experience. The 

 Chipping Sparrow is, I think, the most indif- 

 ferent as to the proper time for singing of any 

 bird I know. At about the noon hour when 

 the excessive heat and sultriness of our sum- 

 mer days causes a general silence throughout 

 the bird-world, it is quite a common occur- 

 rence to hear the Chipping Sparrow break 

 forth into liis monotonous strain as though he 

 desired notoriety. Then, also, many a time 

 during a heavy rainstorm I have heard him 

 sing from the sheltered retreat of some shady 

 tree as though he considered the sliower no 

 great set-back to his cheerfulness. I have 

 also heard the self-same monotonous ditty re- 

 peated in the "dead hours of night" often- 

 times; and I think that if there is any bird 

 that sings at odd times, anytime, and all tlie 

 time, it is the Chipping Sparrow. But the most 

 amusing of all to me is a certain performance 

 of the Least Flycatcher which I have noticed 

 several times at "dead of night" as I did a 

 few nights since. It was about 11 p.m. and 

 I was walking up a shaded street on my way 

 home. It was very dark and not a sound was 

 to be heai'd save my own footfalls. Suddenly 

 from the top of a tree overhead came a quick, 

 emphatic "che-beck." The tone of it was 

 such as to express a sudden awakening from 

 profound sleep, — a tone which might easily 

 be imagined to express, "Oh, dear! what 

 made you wake me up?" I have heard this 

 same utterance several times. It is the usual 

 day-time note, with a tone of surprise and 



