Bl 



THE OOLOGIST. 



whether I slid, fell or tlew from the 

 tree. 



However I made a bee-liae for home, 

 and hid my treasure in the barn, got 

 out a ponderous work on natural his- 

 tory and looked up all the birds to see 

 if I could ascertain the exact value of 

 my newly acquired treasure. My ef- 

 forts in this direction not being crown- 

 ed with success, I got my hat and am- 

 bled sideways out of the house in quest 

 of an acquaintance, who had, in my es- 

 timation attained universal knowledge. 



He listened patiently and reverently 

 to my narrative and at its close inform- 

 ed me that I had been singularly bless- 

 ed by the Fates, and that my oological 

 specimen was that of the "migratory 

 thrush." When I eventually discover- 

 ed that the common, ordinary, every 

 day robin was technically designated 

 migratory thrush, I felt a lump in my 

 throat as big as a balloon. 



Retribution has overtaken my boy- 

 hood friend, he is now a college prof- 

 essor. 



If there was a bird's nest within a 

 radius of ten miles from the house in 

 which I lived, that I didn't find that 

 year, all I can say is that it must been 

 ten feet under ground. 



Years passed as they somehow have 

 a habit of doing and with them the 

 school days that the average boy spends 

 generally in wishing them gone, and 

 the remainder of his existence in wish- 

 ing them back again. 



Life began gradually to assume a 

 more serious aspect, and, like the maj- 

 ority of my friends and companions I 

 entered the actual arena of the world. 



Then, like thousands of other boys, 

 having an enormous conception of what 

 constituted a man, took for my exam- 

 ple the one of all others I should have 

 avoided, and firmly resolved to attain 

 the enviable position that to my poor 

 deluded mind, he occupied. 1 attained 

 it! In a few short years, filled with as- 

 sorted, bitter and sweet, the former in ' 



big chunks and the latter in infinite- 

 simal grains. I found myself in the 

 maelstrom of a large city, -gone home, 

 gone friends, gone cash, everything in 

 fact gone, but the cheerful certainty of 

 eventual annihilation and the craving 

 of a tiger in my vitals for one more 

 drink 



So the months faded slowly into eter- 

 nity, and one Saturday afternoon, I 

 mechanically bent my way to the Nat- 

 ural History Room of the great city, 

 stupidly fumbled up the steps and aim- 

 lessly wandered into the edifice. At last 

 drifting into that portion of the build- 

 ing devoted to oological specimens. As 

 I gazed wearily at the collection in an 

 instant the thought flashed through my 

 poor muddled brain of the previous vis- 

 its and under what different circum- 

 stances I thought of what I was when 

 as a free-hearted boy I roamed through 

 the same structure, filled with natures 

 ti'easures, more 'beautiful by far than 

 anything wrought by the hand of man, 

 and as I compared the present with the 

 happy past, the tears trickled down 

 my cheeks, and I resolved to kill the 

 demon I had myself reared and regain 

 if possible some of my bygone happi- 

 ness. 



But it is far easier to resolve than to 

 accomplish, and the days, weeks and 

 even months that followed, recorded 

 but a succession of unequal struggles 

 and inglorious defeats. 



At length one evening, while under 

 the influence of liquor, as usual, I was 

 attracted by a light in the vestry of a 

 church that I sometimes attended, so 

 over I went and after going in, discov- 

 ered that it was a sociable held under 

 the auspices of the W. C. T. U., and 

 that the main object of the aflfair was 

 the inducing of those present to sign 

 the pledge. 



Something seemed to whisper to me 

 that this was my last chance, and 1 

 guess it actually was. Still I hesitated, 

 finally I said to myself, picking out a 



