May, 1922.1 



The Canadian Field-Natukalist 



99 



tively identified, but, with one exception, all of 

 the Gulls seen during this period which were near 

 enough to be distinguished well were of the white- 

 winged species. The exception was a bird, seen 

 from the train near Gascons on December 8, 

 which was thought to be an immature Great 

 Black-backed Gull (Larus marinus). The number 

 of Gulls which I saw during the short time which 

 I spent in the Gaspe Peninsula averaged about 

 half a dozen each day. 



Harelda hyemalis. Old-squaw. — Forty seen at 

 Bonaventure Island on December 10 and twenty- 

 three at the same place the following day. 



Somateria (sp. ?). Eider. — Three seen off 

 Cap des Hosiers on December 9 and about one 

 hundred twenty-five in one flock at Bonaventure 

 Island on December 11. Two of those at Cap 

 des Hosiers and about twelve of those at Bona- 

 venture Island were adult drakes. 



Corvus brachyrhynchos brachyrhynchos . Crow. 

 — Several seen from the train between New 

 Carlisle and Gaspe on December 8. Two seen 

 at Perce on December 10 and two at New Carlisle 

 on December 12. I was informed that a few 

 Crows sometimes pass the entire winter on the 

 coast near Gaspe. 



Pinicola enucleator leucura. Pine Grosbeak. 

 — A solitary individual seen on Bonaventure 

 Island on December 11. 



Lanius borealis. Northern Shrike. — One 

 seen on Bonaventure Island on December 10. 



Planesticus migratorius migratorius. Hobin. — 

 One seen seeking food in a field blown bare of 

 snow on Bonaventure Island on December 10 

 and 11.— Harrison F. Lewis. 



Bird Notes from St. Thomas, Ontario. — 

 During the exceptionally dry summer of 1919, 

 Huby-throated Hummingbirds collected in unusual 

 numbers about a clump of Jewel Weed. Fourteen 

 birds were counted on August 26th, and twelve on 

 the 28th. This clump of weeds seems to have been 

 the only attraction within a radius of some miles. 



On August 26th, the same year, about an hour or 

 so before dusk, an unusually large flock of Mourning 

 Doves was disturbed feeding in a gravel pit. 

 Forty-one birds were counted as they circled about. 

 — C. E. Johnson. 



Bird Accidents Caused by Netting. — A Song 

 Sparrow in Ottawa South entangled itself by the 

 right foot in an expanded twist of poultry netting, 

 breaking its leg by frantic exertions before it was 

 released. 



A Red-eyed Vireo killed itself in the same section 

 of the city by coming in contact with a taut tennis 

 net. 



A Wilson Snipe on Echo Drive flew into a strip 



of poultry netting used as a support for Sweet Peas 

 but in this case was only momentarily disabled. — 

 C. E. Johnson. 



Horned Larks in a City Garden-pix)t. — Dur- 

 ing a severe blizzard on March 28, 1919, a flock of 

 eleven Horned Larks visited a garden-plot on Sunny- 

 side Avenue. Ottawa. Nine of the birds, accom- 

 panied by one Song-Sparrow, came back the next 

 day to feed on the weed-seed. The Horned Larks 

 secured the seeds several inches above their heads 

 by jumping. On March 30th no Larks were 

 present, but a flock of about thirty Redpolls settled 

 for a few moments; so actively did they move 

 about that an exact count of numbers was not 

 obtainable.— C. E. Johnson. 



The European Starling at Arnprior, Ont. 

 —On the afternoon of the 19th of April, 1922, 

 business took me to McLachlin Brothers' "yard 

 office," which is situated about 300 yards from the 

 east bank of the Madawaska River at Arnprior, 

 on the open road leading to the Mill Bridge. 

 Between the office and the river, and 200 ft. or 

 300 ft. back from the road are McLachlin Bro- 

 thers' extensive stables. Consequently the vi- 

 cinity is infested with English Sparrows, who find 

 lavish food and safe shelter about the buildings. 

 On this day the level rocky space between the 

 road and the stables was dotted with Sparrows 

 as usual and more of them were hopping in the 

 roadway and chirping from the fences. The 

 English Sparrow is the most uninteresting bird in 

 the world, and I was paying little attention to 

 their all too familiar antics, when, as I approached 

 the yard office, I noticed a strange bird among 

 them on the road. 



Classification always begins by connecting the 

 unknown with the known. Resemblances are 

 noticed first, and differences only in second place. 

 My first thought was: "That is a queer-looking 

 Meadowlark, and if a Meadowlark, what is it 

 doing here out of its proper range." However, 

 in a second I saw it was no Meadowlark, but a 

 species new to me. A little smaller than a 

 Robin, it was a long-bodied bird that walked 

 deliberately on its short legs with a rather waddling 

 gait. In the shadow its color seemed uniformly 

 dark all over, but when it flew up onto a fence 

 post, and caught the sunlight, its speckled plu- 

 mage gleamed with iridescent greens and purples. 

 This was no native bird, and none that I had 

 ever seen in the flesh before, but the picture of 

 the European Starling flashed to memory, and I 

 realized that this latest imported pest had reached 

 these northern latitudes at last. The Starling 

 somewhat resembles the Meadowlark, but the 

 relationship is a distant one, and it is strange 



