THE OOLOGIST. 



203 



THE OOLOGIST 



AMoNTHLY Magazine Devoted to 

 ORNITHOLOGY and OOLOGY. 



TKANK H. liATTHi, ALBION, N.Y. 



EDITOR AND PUBLISHER. 



iJEIL F. POSSON, MEDINA, N. Y. 

 associate editor. 



Corresponrtpiice and Items of Interest to the 

 student of Wrds. their Nests and Jiggs, soliciied 

 from all. 



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HE POST OFFICE 



SECOND-CLASS MATTER. 



The Autumn time is with us ! Its approach 



Was heralded, not many days ago. 

 By hazy skies that veiled the brazen sun. 



And sea-like murmurs from the ru.stlingcorn. 

 And low- voiced brooks that wandered drowsily 



By purpling clusters of the juicy grape. 

 Swinging tipon the vane. And now, 'tis here. 



And what a change has passed tipon the face 

 Of Nature, where thy waving forests spread. 



Then robed in deepest gi-een : All through 



[the night 

 The subtle frost hath plied its mystic art. 



And in the day the golden sun hath wrought 

 True wonders ; and the wings of morn and even 



Have touched with magic breath the chang- 



[ing leaves." 

 —Gallagher. 



A Collecting Adventure. 



The pathwaj' of the Ooi.ogi.st i.s uot 

 alwajs .strewn witli r(j.se,s. Called 

 crauk by his fiieud.s, chased l)j dogs 

 aud augry fai'mers, tramping throngh 

 rain and mud, his lot is not easj'. Dur- 

 ing this last season, a friend of mine 

 and I discovered a Blue-graj' Gnat- 

 catcher's nest, in an apple tree, near a 

 farmer's house. We asked him if we 

 could collect them, and he told us if he 

 caught us ou his place lie would set the 

 dogs ou us. 



A few days after that we saw his sou 

 in town aud he had both of his father's 

 dogs with him. Now was our chance, 

 and Ave lost no time in getting out to 

 that farm-house. There did uot seem 

 to be auy one at home, but the old 

 farmer was working out in a field in 

 plain view of the tree in which the nest 

 was. How to get the nest and eggs, 

 without him seeing us was the question . 

 The old fellow was a great politician 

 aud I thought if I could get liim into a 

 discussion he would uot pay any atten- 

 tion to what was going ou over in the 

 orchard. I went uj) to him and wished 

 him good-day, and we talked abotit the 

 weather, crops, etc. At last I got to 

 talking politics. Finally the old gentle- 

 man concltided it was too hot to w'ork 

 out in the sun and we sat down under 

 a tree. As good luck would have it, he 

 sat witli his back to the orchard. I 

 could see my friend sneaking from tree 

 to tree, fast approaching the one iu 

 which the nest was. All the while we 

 were busily discussing the merits of our 

 favorite candidates for '92, Benjamin 

 Butler would have turned green with 

 envy, if he could have heard the ease 

 with which I changed my views to suit 

 those of the old farmer. Just as he 

 was declaring he would bet seven 

 bushels of potatoes that his candidate 

 would get there, I heard the "shrill call 

 of a Quail" far up the road, and I knew 

 my friend had been successful. I bade 



