THE OOLOGIST. 



83 



ally, susceptile to its ravages— hence the ex- 

 ception, we do not consider ■ 'Friend Posson's' ' 

 case quite hopeless and can assure the readers 

 of The OOLOGIST that he still has lucid Inter- 

 vals, in spite of the fact that the following lines 

 accompanied his "ode. "—Ed. 



Boston. April 17, 1899. 

 Editor OoLOGiST: — With the gradual, 

 but none the less sure and certain ad- 

 vance of the balmy spring time, with its 

 much etheral mildnesses and its soft 

 and coquettish zephyrs in large num- 

 bers, the pen of the true poet becomes 

 as uneasy and as active as a New Jersey 

 mosquito on a summer's evening in the 

 vicinity of a hammock. In my own 

 case, I tind that 



My ever wandering pen 

 Still gets there just the same, 



Although the winter blasts have went 

 And spring-time days have come. 



I have just completed an ode. En- 

 closed you will find it. I will tell you 

 why I send it to you. The reason is 

 that I want it published in a paper with 

 a large circulation. You will at once 

 see of what a high-class of merit the 

 poem is, and surely such an effort 

 should be printed where it will reach 

 the greatest number of people. I have 

 learned from experience in writing 

 poems about birds, that it doesn't paj' 

 to send them to second-rate magazines 

 like The Auk or McClure's or any 

 of them. They are not educated up to 

 a point where they can appreciate a 

 really meritorious odei. They often 

 publish cheap, unmeaning bits of verse, 

 while they will turn right around and 

 refuse a good poem with much more 

 body to it. Body is what counts. I 

 know what I am talking about, for I 

 have had experience. I now have in 

 my possession a poem which "McClure" 

 sent back to me, — a dandy, — and I 

 would have let him have it cheap, if he 

 hadn't been in such a hurry about re- 

 turning it. You see he undoubtedly 

 turned it over to one of his ollice-help 

 to review it, and of course office-help 

 ain't supposed to know. I wouldn't 



sell him the poem now for $5.00, after a 

 trick like that. 



I will say this for your magazine — 

 you have never refused to publish a sin- 

 gle one of the poems 1 have sent you 

 and I have sent you a few.) That goes 

 to show that you are able to discern a 

 truly meritorious article. 



If you w;int this I will not ask you 

 anything for it. There is one favor I 

 would like to ask, though. The poem 

 is of a humorous nature, and if you 

 would like to give me something hum- 

 orous in return, (I see by the Oologist 

 that you have been having some pictur- 

 es of yourself taken, and if you would 

 like to send me one in return for the 

 ode.) it will be much appreciated. 

 Very Sincerely, 



Neil F. Posson. 



The Finding" of a Hummingbird's 

 Nest. 



On June 18, 1898, 1 went to a larg'J 

 tract of land, covered with rank grass, 

 brush and occasionally a scrub oak. for 

 the purpose of collecting nests and 

 eggs of such species as inhabit Iho^C' lo- 

 calities. After about two hours of un- 

 successful tramping over bogs, stones 

 and large stumps in the hot sun, 

 I determined to go where the heat of 

 the sun was not so great. In a few 

 minutes I decided that I would go to to 

 a large grove of stately oaks and pop- 

 lars which joined the former tract and 

 had been pastured for at least t°n years 

 and where the underbrush was about 

 destroyed by cattle and at least walk- 

 ing would be easier. It did not take 

 long to reach the welcome shade of the 

 big oaks under whose spreading. boughs 

 I spent some time rolling on the soft 

 grass. After being sufficiently rested I 

 took a stroll through the woods. As I 

 was walking along the path examining 

 the limbs for Vireos' nests, judge rny 

 surprise when I saw a tiny, wee, little 

 nest and said to myself, "A Humming- 



