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 anerrand. 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, 
