AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY 189 



"Of all the birds of song, the Meadowlark is my favorite. When one 

 hears his song a feeling steals over him that is indescribable. As the 

 sun is sinking behind the hill and the woods echo with the songs of 

 birds, one can hear in the distance, the sweet notes of the Meadowlark, 

 as he calls his loved mate. He is so happy and cheerful, his song is so 

 sweet, and he must know it for he keeps singing all the long summer 

 day and stays with us from early spring until winter approaches." — 

 Marietta Washburn, Goodwin, S. Dak. 



"I like Robin Redbreast best. He is so social, so pretty, so cheer- 

 ful, has a pleasing song, and is a help to the farmer." 



"Among so many charming friends it is hard to choose; I am 

 especially fond of the Wood Thrush. There is something in its song 

 that appeals to me even more than the song of the Veery. There al- 

 ways seems to be a personal element in it and when I meet the bird it 

 seems like meeting a dear friend. The most delightful concert that I 

 ever heard was at twilight, when a score of Woodthrushes made the 

 wooded valley echo and re-echo with their soft flute like notes." 



"Here's my vote for the Song Sparrow. He is one of us. He is 

 afraid of nothing, and even in cold and storm he pipes up and says, 

 'Good, good times are surely coming.' " 



"I say, hurrah for the jolly Bobolink, who is bubbling over with fun, 

 and has a rollicking, tinkling, broken up, crushed glass kind of 

 melody." 



GLEANINGS. 



That if but one of all the birds 



Could be my comrade everywhere. 



My little brother of the air, 



I'd choose the song sparrow, my dear. 



Because he'd bless me every year 



With "sweet, sweet, sweet, very merry cheer." 



Dr. Van Dyke. 



JACK MY TAME CROW, 



(Jne morning, our Uncle Eb. took us to a wood lot to get as he 

 claimed, something very interesting. At an early hour a small pro- 

 cession might have been seen, wending its way across a field towards 

 some large trees, and carrying a shot gun, a long pole, some grain 

 sacks, a basket, and clothes line. After silently pushing our way 

 through underbrush and fallen tree tops we came to our destination, a 

 tall beech tree which had a crow's nest well toward the top. After ty- 

 ing one end of the clothes line to the pole and the other about his body. 

 Uncle Eb. began to climb a tree near the one with a nest in. When he 



