60 



THE 



with a definite idea of making his col- 

 lection a permanent thing, either of 

 his own and for his own, or by ulti- 

 mately placing it in some public insti- 

 tution, or even of selling the collection 

 when his interest in it wanes, to some 

 other who will pick up the thread 

 where it has been severed by the sale; 

 I have determined to give the young- 

 er collectors, the beginners among 

 THE OOLOGIST readers, the benefit 

 of my nearly forty years of Oological 

 experience along some lines. 



Before doing so it might interest 

 some to know how I began, and how 

 I happened to' begin. Here is the story: 

 One afternoon on a beautiful day in 

 late May, 1875, while sitting under a 

 shady tree on the lawn at my home in 

 Lacon, listening to the conversation 

 between my father, George O. Barnes, 

 and a cousin of his, Charles A. 

 Barnes of Jacksonville, Illinois, who 

 later became a Judge and was also Su- 

 preme Chancellor of the Knight of the 

 Pythias of the World and who died 

 abroad in December, 1913: I took my 

 first birds egg lesson. Charley, as we 

 called him, had been a student at Ann 

 Arbor and had been compelled to quit 

 school on account of failing health, 

 had stopped to make us a visit on his 

 way home. I had seldom come in con- 

 tact with a real college man in those 

 days, so looked up to him on all occa- 

 sions. During the conversation a 

 Robin flitted past and into a small 

 pine tree near by. Charley arose, 

 walked leisurely to the tree, parted 

 the boughs and looked into the nest 

 while the old bird protested loudly. 

 He then came back, sat down and 

 turning to me said: 



"Magoon, did you ever collect birds 

 eggs?" I plead not guilty on the spot. 

 Then with much interest he opened 

 up and told me all about making a 

 collection of birds eggs, of his own 

 collection and of The Oologist of 



OOLOGIST 



Utica, N. Y., in which, dear reader, 

 you will find his name more than once. 

 All this to a thirteen year boy was a 

 revelation. And with wide eyes I 

 drank in his every word. The entire 

 thing was new to me; but interested 

 me mightily. That night I lay awake 

 until away into the night formulating 

 plans for the future "collection." The 

 news was too good to keep! The next 

 morning bright and early I was at my 

 Cousin Charley Thomas' home and to 

 him I excitedly unfolded the great 

 news. Directly we bolted our break- 

 iast and started out to spread the glad 

 tidings. Soon we had a party of eight 

 boys composed of ourselves, Frank 

 Lester, "Beardy" Ames and others I 

 do not remember. At once this army 

 took the field against the poor birds. 

 We agreed that the discoverer of the 

 nest should have the first egg by right 

 of discovery, the rest to be distributed 

 one to each as far as they would go 

 to the one who should first exclaim 

 "First egg!" The second to the first 

 saying "Second egg!" and so on. Many 

 were the heated arguments and almost 

 battles that day as to who were en- 

 titled to the spoils under this process 

 of distribution. 



Well I remember the first nest 

 found. A Scarlet Tanager's, well out 

 toward the end of a long bough of an 

 Oak tree some seven feet above 

 ground. In our haste and anxiety we 

 spilled all four of the eggs on the 

 ground and smashed them. A Rose- 

 breasted Grosbeak, several Robins, 

 Blue Birds and Chippies, one Cookoo 

 and a King bird's nest were all raided. 

 Holes from a quarter of an inch up 

 were punched into the ends of each 

 egg with pins and the contents blown 

 out. Tired and footsore, we wended 

 our way homeward, dinnerless and 

 dirty, as the sun sank low that even- 

 ing. But what of all that, we were 

 making a "Collection of Birds Eggs." 

 Great Sport! 



