THE CINNAMON TEAL. 



[Anas cyanoptera.) 



DAVIE says that the geographical 

 distribution of this beautiful 

 teal is western America, from 

 the Columbia river south to 

 Chili, Patagonia, and Falkland Islands; 

 east in North America to the Rocky 

 Mountains; casual in the Mississippi 

 Valley, and accidental in Ohio. It is 

 abundant in the United States west of 

 the Rocky Mountains, breeding in Col- 

 orado, Utah, Nevada, California, Idaho, 

 and Oregon. Its habits are similar to 

 those of the blue-wing. Its favorite 

 breeding-places are in fields of tall 

 grass or clover, not far from water. 

 The eggs range from nine to thirteen, 

 and the nest is so completely woven of 

 grass, feathers, and down that it is said 

 the entire structure may be picked up 



without its coming apart. Oliver 

 Davie, the well known ornithologist, 

 says that it gave him pleasure to be 

 able to add this beautiful duck to the 

 avifauna of Ohio as an accidental vis- 

 itor. On the 4th of April, 1895, a 

 fine male of this species was taken at 

 the Licking County reservoir by Wil- 

 liam Harlow. On the 6th Mr. Davie 

 skinned and mounted it and it is now 

 one of the rare Ohio birds in his col- 

 lection. It proved to be good eating. 

 This, he says, is the first record of the 

 cinnamon teal ever having been taken 

 in the state. 



The eggs of this species are creamy- 

 white or pale buff, the average size be- 

 ing 1.88x1.38. 



A SCRAP OF PAPER. 



ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE. 



" A bluebird sing-s on the leafless spray, 

 Hey-ho, winter will go!" 



HE ARRIVED that year very 

 early in the season. It was 

 about the twelfth of F'ebruary 

 that I first heard his plaintive 

 note far up in the maple tree. Could 

 it be Mr. Bluebird, I questioned as I 

 hastened to the window opera-glass in 

 hand? Yes, there he stood, not too 

 comfortably dressed I am afraid, in his 

 blue cap, sky-blue overcoat and russet- 

 brown vest edged with a trimming of 

 feathers soft and white. 



There had been a slight fall of snow 

 during the night, and I fancied, from 

 his pensive note, that he was chiding 

 himself for leaving the Mississippi Val- 



ley, to which he had journeyed at the 

 first touch of wintry weather in Illinois. 

 "If it wasn't for the snowdrops, the 

 crocus, the violets, and daffodils," he 

 was saying in a faint sweet warble, "I'd 

 linger longer in the South than I do. 

 They, dear little things, never know, 

 down in their frozen beds, that winter 

 will soon give place to spring till they 

 hear my voice, and so, no matter how 

 bleak the winds or how gray the sky, I 

 sing to let them know I have arrived, 

 my presence heralding the birth of 

 spring and death of winter. It well re- 

 pays me, I am sure, when, in March 

 under the warm kisses of the sun their 



