Notes from Field and Study 



281 



reproduction in your magazine. 

 Gingrich, Chicago, III. 



-Wm. F. 



Florida Gallinule at Baltimore 



On the morning of June 9, 1914, one of 

 my neighbors who knows my interest in 

 birds, told me that a very peculiar bird 

 had flown into his place of business in the 

 central portion of Baltimore City two 

 nights before and that he still had the 

 bird in the yard back of his place. He 

 described it as having a head like that of a 

 pigeon and being black in color. Knowing 

 how inaccurate are the observations of 

 those not particularly interested in birds, 

 I expected to find a Crow or something 

 equally commonplace. 



I went with him to his store and in the 

 brick-paved yard saw what I knew at once 

 to be a wading bird, because of its long 

 legs and wide spreading feet. Beyond this, 

 however, I had to admit myself stumped. 

 I took a memorandum of the bird's 

 characteristics, and the long green legs, 

 with a bright red band around the tibiae, 

 made it very easy to identify the Florida 

 Gallinule. I observe in Chapman's 'Hand- 

 book' that this bird is reported from the 

 District of Columbia as a migrant only. 

 Its appearance in June would seem to 

 indicate that it is breeding in the marshes 

 near Baltimore. In this connection I may 

 say that the nearest marshy ground to the 

 place where this Gallinule was taken is 

 distant about two miles. There have been 

 no very high winds for the past week or 

 so, and it is certainly surprising that the 

 bird should have flown into a window in 

 the city. 



It has frequently been remarked that 

 all wild animal stories have a sad ending 

 and this one is no exception. I suggested 

 to my friend that he have the bird taken 

 to the outskirts of the city and liberated 

 near the water-front, or else that he send 

 it to the Zoo in Druid Hill Park. He 

 thought both of these were good sugges- 

 tions and therefore adopted neither. The 

 next day he told me that the bird had 

 died, doubtless of starvation. — Joseph 

 N. Ulman, Baltimore, Md. 



Red-breasted Grosbeak Singing on the 

 Nest 



In many nature-study books I have 

 noted a discussion as to whether the 

 adult bird ever sings while sitting on the 

 nest. In 191 2 I located a Rose-breasted 

 Grosbeak's nest a few feet up in a tree on 

 a boulevard. I watched it closely and 

 saw the male incubating. While watching 

 him he voiced a few of those indescribable 

 notes of his exquisite song. It was not 

 long until he discovered me and hopped 

 oflf the nest. — Harry C.Pifer, Lovington, 

 III. 



Our Neighbor, the Bald Eagle 



One of my earliest recollections is of 

 the sight of a Bald Eagle scaling from the 

 hills behind my home to the sea before it. 

 My aunt, who at the age of ninety-four 

 has a better momory than many young 

 people, says that they were here in her 

 childhood just as now, and of course it is 

 impossible to tell for how many years 

 these birds (or their ancestors) have nested 

 in these wooded hills. 



Some years ago the nest, a huge plat- 

 form of rough sticks and twigs, was located 

 in an old pine which has since blown down. 

 Another was constructed, also in an old 

 pine, which I think still does duty as a 

 home. 



We usually see but one bird at a time, 

 never more than two, except once, when 

 two old birds and two young were seen 

 going down to the sea together. The young 

 with dark head and tail, are sometimes 

 seen alone and are commonly called 

 "Black Eagles." 



At one time, some years ago, one of the 

 Eagles disappeared and for several years 

 the bereaved one led a solitary life in the 

 pine tree. Then I think that it, too, must 

 have met with some mishap, as later a 

 pair appeared and are still living here. 



It seems strange that there are not 

 more nesting here, where they have been 

 undisturbed for so many years, but doubt- 

 less this is due to their solitary habits. 



Sometimes we see them, a mere speck 

 on the sky, and sometimes they hang low 



