6 Zbe Marbler 



Now, sets of five are common; and Mid-June dates prevail. But who ever 

 heard of a nest containing fresh eggs the Last of June? And, who ever 

 heard of a set of even six eggs of any Towhee? (The fact that the nest, in 

 this case, was elongate makes me strongly inclined to believe that two fe- 

 males may have pooled their issues. I have, however, seen this set; and the 

 eggs are of remarkable uniformity.) 



In any case the coupling of a large set with a late date is remarkable. 

 I know but of one bird, — the Clay-colored Sparrow, — which seems habitually 

 to lay larger second-sets of eggs than are laid at the opening of the season. 

 Just the reverse is usually the case. One may conclude, fittingly, with the 

 statement that the Arctic Towhee does not appear normally to lay two sets 

 in Wyoming. All anologies are against it. No other bird does. And even 

 the very plants know better. In a region where even the Compositae prepare 

 for early drouth by putting forth their squat masses of blossoms with the 

 first rains of April it would be fairly absurd to expect any intelligent bird to 

 lay eggs the requisite food for which might never be forth-coming. Even 

 the very Swifts, — the far-faring white-throated Swifts, — begin to leave their 

 rocky fastnesses by Mid-August. Even the lecherous Brewer Sparrow does 

 not ordinarily lear a second brood. The southward hegira begins early; 

 while yet the sage-plains retain a tint of their greenery. Leisurely but be- 

 times the summer birds begin to depart, as the open range turns grey: and 

 soon the habitant Horned Lark and the grasshopper-devouring Sage Hen 

 are pretty much all that are left, of bird-life, to brighten the glaring mo- 

 notony of August days. 



