ORNITHOLOGY ON A COTTON PLAN- 

 TATION. 



ON one of my first jaunts into the sub- 

 urbs of Tallahassee I noticed not far from 

 the road a bit of swamp, shallow pools 

 with muddy borders and flats. It was a 

 likely spot for " waders," and would be 

 worth a visit. To reach it, indeed, I must 

 cross a planted field surrounded by a lofty 

 barbed-wire fence and placarded against 

 trespassers ; but there was no one in sight, 

 or no one who looked at all like a land- 

 owner ; and, besides, it could hardly be ac- 

 counted a trespass defined by Blackstone 

 as an " unwarranted entry on another's 

 soil" to step carefully over the cotton 

 rows on so legitimate an errand. Ordinarily 

 I call myself a simple bird-gazer, an ama- 

 teur, a field naturalist, if you will ; but on 

 occasions like the present I assume with 

 myself, that is all the rights and titles of 

 an ornithologist proper, a man of science 

 strictly so called. In the interest of science, 



