60 



THE OOLOGIST 



the first of May; The trees were 

 dressed in the restful green; flowers 

 and birds made bright the scene; up 

 in the air (a pleasing sight) a Buz- 

 zard was sailing in graceful flight; 

 Only one Vulture was sweeping the 

 air, which meant that the female was 

 then somewhere, probably covering 

 with wings and legs, two beautiful 

 cream-colored brown-blotched eggs. 



Tip-toeing up to the hollow tree, 1 

 placed my tripod where it would be, 

 just right to catch the hostess on a 

 camera plate 'ere she was gone; Fo- 

 cusing into the cavity, with diaphragm 

 stopped down carefully, I attached a 

 string to the shutter's release and 

 prepared to scoop in a masterpiece; 



And here is the place to offer a tip — 

 "There's mony a slip twixt th' cup and 

 th' lip" — My visions of photos went 

 up in thin air, for when I arrived, Mrs. 

 V. wasn't there; 



I was disappointed all over in spots 

 as big as a blanket however my 

 thoughts, led me away to another site, 

 where both the Buzzards occasionally 

 light; But in neither place was my 

 friends at home, and but for an acci- 

 dent quite, this "pome" would never 

 have found space on this page, nor 

 the beautiful set my heart assuage. I 

 had given up my search in disgust; 

 was in a lethargic state I mistrust, 

 when I was accosted by a Kentuck, 

 who lived in the Grove; now wasn't it 

 luck, that the subject reverted to 

 Buzzard eggs? I told him I had nearly 

 walked off my legs; "I reckon I know 

 whar she's settin," sa id he; "You all 

 want me to show you whar she be?" 

 — Said I "I'd sure like to see the nook 

 in this old grove where I didn't look" 



He grinningly volunteer "wal I 

 guess, I sure got one on you, Mr. Hess" 

 — "I was comin' this mornin' through 

 the bog and see'd her a settin' in a 

 log." 



And through the brush he took the 



lead — bare-foot, bare-head, true type 

 indeed, of Nature's child who under- 

 stood each little mystery of the wood; 

 "She hatched in that thar log last 

 year," he added and then to me 'twas 

 clear, why I collected no Buzzard set 

 to add to my last year's cabinet; 



Yes, here was the log and when I 

 sized, it up and down I realized, I had 

 sat upon that dog-goned log, when if 

 I had only been a dog, I'd shortened 

 much my hunting process, by using 

 first my old proboscis. I knew that 

 at first I must accustom myself to the 

 dark or I might bust 'em, so patient', 

 no impatiently, I strained my eyes till 

 1 could see, two great big globules 

 lying there — an innocent conspicuous 

 pair, of eggs that stared in mute sur- 

 prise, for those big blotches seemed 

 like eyes, and seemed to say "Oh res- 

 cuer brave, release us from this dis- 

 mal cave"; Quoth I "you're rescued 

 pretty eggies now I'll sure win one of 

 Carnegie's medals that he with great 

 tact, distributes round for each brave 

 act. 



The female left without a word; she 

 is you know, a silent bird; We heard 

 no wild blood-curdling squawks, like 

 when we rob the Red-tailed Hawks; 

 She sailed around with furtive gaze as 

 though just counting up the days 

 when she would have another set, 

 and present tragedies forget; The 

 log was lying north and south and 

 looking in the tunnel's mouth, I saw 

 the eggs ten feet from each, near or 

 far side and out of reach; The facts 

 and figures to be faced, were, hole too 

 small, and all incased in wood so hard, 

 I could but scratch it, nor hope to dig 

 through with my hatchet; Whistling 

 an inspiration song, I cut me down a 

 sapling prong and rolled into my eager 

 hands the finest set in fourteen lands; 



'Tis beautiful to see and my, but — 

 'twas a pleasure to describe it, on my 

 data; Do you know it — every single 



