326 



THE OOLOGIST. 



take corrected. One fortunate moment 

 of light may reveal a truth hidden for 

 years. One golden morning of the year 

 may bring to your neighborhood a bird 

 you never thought of meeting alive at 

 home, and its acquaintance will repay 

 you for the many previous fruitless 

 tramps over the same localities. 



Not until I had studied the birds 

 of my home district for more than fif- 

 teen years did I there meet a Yellow- 

 breasted Chat or a Lark Sparrow. On 

 two fortunate mornings of last fall I 

 secured specimens of the Harris's Spar- 

 row, a species of which there are only 

 two or three recorded instances of its 

 captui-e in Illinois. 



The i-equisite thing is to be on the 

 spot at the fortunate time. It is natur- 

 al for one to hold preconceived ideas 

 concerning the birds one meets and 

 these ideas may lead one into serious 

 errors which may be believed for years 

 until a day comes bringing the truth to 

 the earnest searcher. Seeming facts 

 which have been deduced from insuf- 

 ficient data may be proved untrue by 

 prolonged and more careful observa- 

 tion. A bird may be eating the seeds 

 of plants when we think it to be pick- 

 ing the insects from the leaves. In the 

 Report of the Secretary of Agriculture 

 for 1890, page 282, Mr. Walter B. Barrows 

 tells of his supposing for years that the 

 Swallows hovei-ing by thousands among 

 the barberry bushes were picking up 

 flies when they were greedily eating 

 the berries, as he afterward learned. 



A careful training of eye and ear is 

 essentially necessary in the equipment 

 of the naturalist, and this traning can be 

 acquired only by frequent contact with 

 nature herself. I would solicit every 

 boy and girl to become a student of 

 nature, and those who cultivate her ac- 

 quaintance will learn that she does in- 

 deed "speak a various language." As 

 one's knowledge of this language in- 

 creases, the sounds of forest and mead- 

 ■ow, of grove and stream, acquire a 



meaning to the eager listener. The 

 twitter of the Chimnej' Swift far above 

 one's head revelling in the flood of sun- 

 shine and darting about in its quest of 

 flying insects, tells of a home glued to 

 the sooty side of a dark flue. Over in 

 the neighboring trees the croaking of a 

 "Rain-crow" or Cuckoo indicates the 

 presence of that somewhat unknown 

 yet interesting specios, and its dilatory 

 nesting habits are recalled to mind. 

 The well known carol of a busy Wren 

 arises at intervals and in imagination 

 we see the little creature whisking 

 about among the lower limbs of that 

 lai'ge decayed maple, and we suspect 

 that the cavity in its trunk contains a 

 mass of sticks conveyed thither by that 

 active busybodj'. Higher up among 

 the branches laden with bursting buds, 

 we hear the melodious notes of a Rose- 

 breasted Grosbeak and though now 

 out of our sight he must be gleaning 

 the buds for his favorite insects, paus- 

 ing now and then to hop to a near 

 branch and to pour forth again his at- 

 tractive notes. 



He who would know birds must visit 

 them in their haunts and there train 

 his ear to distinguish the variec^ notes 

 of pi'aise and joy or of anger and alarm 

 and there accustom the eye to detect the 

 coloi's of the flashing wing and to dis- 

 cern the flitting form among the deep 

 foliage of the woods. A knowledge 

 of birds can be obtained from books 

 or by the examination of specimens in 

 collections, but bird-life can be studied 

 only among living birds. Read all the 

 works about ornithology you can ob- 

 tain. From them you will learn much 

 about birds and their habits, and you 

 will be inspired to advance in this 

 noble science, but also go out into the 

 healthful sunshine and know for your- 

 self our common birds. Verify what 

 you read by your own obsei'vation, and 

 you will learn perhaps to your surprise 

 that the same species in different local- 

 ities behaves in a very different manner. 



