130 



ORNITHOLOGIST 



[Vol. 17-N0. 9 



I am indebted to Mr. Benjamin M. 

 Everhart, our eminent mycological botan- 

 ist, for the identitication of the nest lining 

 as above. Sanuicl B . J. add. 



West Chester, Pa., Aug. 22, 1892. 



Since writing the above Mr. Everhart 

 has identified the weed mentioned as the 

 rattle-weed to be Cautophyliim thalic- 

 troides., better known as blue cohosh or 

 pappoose-root. S. B. L. 



A Spring Morning Ramble. 



I woke up this morning and looked out 

 of the window on one of the finest spring 

 days we have had this season. Jumping 

 into my clothes and eating a hasty break- 

 fast I started off, taking the horsecar to 

 Beverly Cove, and from there started off" 

 through a field toward " the Park." 



It was a beautiful morning, and on en- 

 tering the field I noted a large flock of 

 Robins hunting on the yet frozen ground 

 for their breakfast. I stopped for a few 

 minutes on the bridge spanning the "di- 

 viding line" brook, listening to the gurg- 

 ling waters as they rushed along over tlie 

 rocks, making tiny waves that danced 

 merrily along in the bright sunshine. 

 After staying here a little while I contin- 

 ued my walk through the park, seeing 

 nothing of note until I got nearly out. 

 when I discovered a last season's Hawk's 

 nest, which I marked to visit later with 

 the expectation of finding it inhabited. 



Coming out near a hedge that is a favor- 

 ite resort for small l)irds both winter and 

 spring, I suddenly heard the songs of sev- 

 eral .Song Sparrows that I did not hear at 

 all until I made my appearance, when, 

 as if of one accord they commenced to sing 

 as if to greet me, each one waiting until 

 the other finished his song, then seemingly 

 trying to outdo him. 



After the many walks we have taken 

 this winter by this brook and along this 

 hedge when all bird songs were hushed, 



how sweet these little songsters sounded. 

 And this morning the hedge seemed to be 

 alive with them and a flood of melody 

 came from every bush from the earliest of 

 spring songsters. These birds were evi- 

 dently new arrivals from the south, as they 

 were in flocks. We have a few stragglers 

 that stay with us all winter, although I 

 have never heard one sing before the first 

 of March. 



Here also was heard the cry of the Yel- 

 low Hammer from several different places 

 and a Hawk, evidently the Red-shouldered, 

 was seen sailing around a favorite breed- 

 ing ground of that species. Here I sat 

 down on a pile of pine boughs in a nice 

 warm, sunny spot, to watch the flock of 

 Song Sparrows and hear their songs. 

 They seemed quite tame, and notwith- 

 standing I was in plain sight, they jumped 

 around hunting for food, and every little 

 while one would jump up on a branch 

 and bracing back, dropping his wings, 

 spreading his tail and throwing back his 

 little head, would send forth music that 

 would put to shame any opera singer ; 

 then jumping down and shaking himself 

 would look over to me as much as to say, 

 wasn't that done nicely. As I sat here I 

 noted a pair of Juncos, a flock of Robins 

 and another of Bluebirds. The Robins 

 looked as if they had just arrived from the 

 south, large, plump and in fine condition. 

 A pair of Bluebirds came and lit in the 

 tree over me and warbled their low, sweet 

 song. 



I next went through a strip of woods 

 where a Red-shouldered Hawk builds 

 every season and where a fine set of eggs 

 was taken last year. As I emerged into 

 the opening I saw that " cowardly" Red- 

 shoulder that was sailing so majestically a 

 short time ago making the best time pos- 

 sible in his vain endeavor to get away 

 from a solitary Crow that was chasing 

 him. It is a wonder to me that he did 

 not turn about and with one or two " digs" 



