190 



THB OOLOGI8T 



Ha that's the solution — the eggs 

 found the place and a look of content- 

 ment spread over Doc's face. His 

 troubles seemed o'er but I like a 

 chump, yelled "Doctor come here 

 quick, see what's here in this stump"; 



I had climbed to a series of holes in 

 a stub and was pounding away for 

 dear life with a club. As the Doctor 

 arrived on the scene puffing hard 

 about, (well the numbers I'll just dis- 

 regard), but a lot of those Squirrels 

 called "Flying" sailed out and landed 

 on tree trunks that stood round about. 



As they left the old home nest in 

 ones, twos, and threes, the Doctor be- 

 gan to wake up if you please. They 

 sailed just like pieces of old plaster 

 skid, through the air when expertly 

 tossed forth by a kid. So slowly they 

 sailed as they volplaned the space be- 

 tween the old home and the new land- 

 ing place, that the Doctor yelled "Club 

 it again and I'll try to capture a speci- 

 men when it sails by." 



Well I've had lots of fun in the years 

 I grew up, but I've never had more 

 fun since Heck was a pup, than while 

 watching the Doctor run forth, leap 

 and whirl in the wildest of efforts to 

 capture a Squirrel. 



While the Doctor ran fast as the 

 Squirrel could sail, he lost every race 

 — it seemed no avail, for when both 

 fleet racers arrived at the tree and 

 Doc grabbed, the Squirrel was not 

 there you see; 



When the last little creature flew 

 out into space and the Doctor stood 

 mopping his perspiring face, I slid 

 down the tree stub to rest aching legs 

 and volunteered "Doc, may I see your 

 Crow eggs?" 



A wild look — a spasm passed over 

 his face, he looked as though death 

 he would gladly embrace; Then with 

 rare resignation, with face calm and 

 bland, and with infinite caution he 

 reached back his hand, 



Have you e'er ordered scrambled 

 eggs — table de 'hote? Doc had this 

 rare dish in the tail of his coat. 



The moral to my tale, is this — boys 

 and girls, "When carrying bird's eggs, 

 don't bother the Squirrels. 



Philo, Illinois. 



J. E. McClary is fast enough, but 

 he has a hen that is a little slow yet 

 makes up in results. He has a double 

 shelled egg laid last Sunday, a couple 

 of weeks late for the chicken show, 

 that is certainly a freak. The outer 

 shell is as large as a small goose egg 

 while the egg proper is very large 

 and apparently a double yolk; be- 

 tween the real egg and the outside 

 shell is the white of an egg but no 

 yolk. Now here's two eggs within an 

 egg within an egg, how much are they 

 a dozen? If you want a "setting" ord- 

 er early as it takes time for this par- 

 ticular brand to develop. Mr. Mc- 

 Clary is the Secretary of the Gran- 

 ville Poultry Association and is ex- 

 pected to breed something fine in his 

 line. — Granville Echo, Feb. 9, 1912. 



Farmers Kill Wood Pigeons. 



London — A stranger coming sudden- 

 ly into the district near Crediton, 

 Devonshire, this month would have 

 thought that the vanguard of an in- 

 vading army was skirmishing with 

 the defenders of London. But it was 

 only 4,000 farmers engaged in the ex- 

 termination of the wood pigeon, a bird 

 which had become a notorious crop 

 pest in that county. It is estimated 

 that the first day's shooting resulted 

 in a bag of 80,000 birds. The district 

 selected for the hunt comprises ten 

 square miles of wooded hills and dales. 

 The birds have long selected this spot 

 as their favorite resting place and 

 comparatively few of them attempted 

 to escape from its boundaries when 

 the slaughter was on. 



