112 The Wilson Bulletin.— No. 45. 



pitch and intensity. Sometimes it sounds like a dream voice 

 floating gently from the summer land of youth, and again it 

 vibrates with startling distinctness like a present call to duty. 

 Occasionally a dainty trill is substituted for this inspired 

 and inspiring opening, while the remainder of the song may 

 consist of a half-dozen notes precisely alike, or of a succession 

 of groups three or four in number. There is a soulful quality, 

 an ethereal purity, and a caressing sweetness about the whole 

 performance which makes one sure the door is opened into 

 the third heaven of bird music. 



Once as I sat entranced before this new-found Orpheus a 

 Lark Sparrow broke into song at half the distance. In pained 

 astonishment and wrath I turned upon him — him even ! "Oh, 

 please not now ! Mon enfant ! Please not now !" 



A DECEMBER HERMIT THRUSH. 



LYNDS JONES. 



Readers of the Bulletin will be familiar with the sandstone 

 knob features of the northwestern parts of Lorain county, 

 Ohio, from previous descriptions of mine. One of these knobs 

 lies a half mile south of Brownhelm Station on the L. S. &. M. 

 S. R. R.. It marks the site of former extensive operations and 

 activities in the industry of sandstone quarrying, but the place 

 has since been abandoned for more profitable and extensive 

 fields to the east and south, leaving the sheer, smooth rock 

 walls where the drill last left its mark, heaps of stone rubbish 

 on the other side of the excavated area, just beyond the deep 

 pool which never freezes, and hard by the old stone build- 

 ings now used for barns. On December 4, in company with 

 three other bird lovers, I tramped the twenty-one miles to 

 Lake Erie, with this abandoned quarry as one of the objective 

 points in the line of march. In the tangle on the east side of 

 this old quarry, with barn refuse within easy reach, we found 

 a solitary Hermit Thrush (Hylocichla guttata pallasii). I 



