128 



Bird- Lore 



TWO ALBINO AND ONE NORMAL F 

 Photographed 



Identification Sketches 



I wonder if any of your readers has ever 

 tried the following method of taking notes 

 on birds. I pass it on in the hope that it 

 may, perhaps, help some ambitious be- 

 ginner, especially in the task of bringing 

 order out of the delightful chaos of his 

 first Wood Warbler observations. 



On a dozen slips of paper sketch the 

 rough outline of a bird. With these slips in 

 your note-book, and a box of colored cray- 

 ons in your pocket, seek a favorable spot, 

 sit down and wait. Then, when the Warb- 

 ler flock begins to gather about, take notes 

 by filling in your outline sketches. For 

 example, if a Chestnut-sided Warbler 

 appears, you can. with a bit of black 

 crayon, record in half a second the peculiar 

 Y-shaped mark on the face that would 

 have taken a number of seconds to de- 

 scribe in writing. And after your next 

 glimpse of him, a blur of yellow on his 

 head, a smear of chestnut along his side — 

 and lo! already you have a sketch that 

 may not be an artistic triumph, but which 

 will surely serve later to identify your 

 bird. Xot alone in the recording of ohser- 



LICKER FROM THE SAME XEST 

 by Loren C. Petry 



vations is time saved by this method. 

 Often it is necessary to refer hastily to 

 some one of your incomplete records. It 

 would take some time to read and form 

 written words from the mental image 

 required: whereas it takes but a glance at 

 the crayon sketch. And when there are 

 Warblers about one, appearing and dis- 

 appearing and reappearing, elusive as 

 fairy-folk, among the leaves, who does not 

 grudge every second's attention that so 

 prosaic a thing as a note-book demands? 

 — Marian Warner Wildman. 



A Prothonotary Warbler in Central Park 



While sitting by one of the inlets of the 

 lake in Central Park on May 8, 1908, I 

 was attracted by an unfamiliar song which 

 awakened my curiosity and put me on the 

 alert to watch for the singer. Yerv soon 

 I saw what looked like a little gold ball 

 flying toward me from the opposite hank, 

 and lighting in a bush not four feet from 

 me, it poured forth the song I so wanted to 

 hear. I looked, and looked, and my heart 

 gave a bound when I thought of a skin of 

 a Prothonotary Warbler I had cherished 



