ARKANSAS BIRD NOTES. 



BY A LOCAL SECRETARY. 



AT the first announcement by the news- 

 papers of the new crusade against 

 the destroyers of birds and the wearers of 

 their dead bodies, our little family, white 

 and colored, resolved unanimously, " No 

 bird or wing of one shall ever disfigure hat 

 or bonnet for us." 



For years we have waged war with the 

 small boy and his sling-shot, and have 

 saved many a little warbler by a timely in- 

 terference. We scolded, threatened and 

 entreated; but how much better were we? 

 He killed. We remonstrated, yet wore the 

 fruits of his thoughtlessness in our bonnets. 

 All in all, did not the boy have the better 

 excuse? 



We are more pleased than we can express 

 at the appearance of the Audubon Maga- 

 zine, and hope for it success commensu- 

 rate with the importance of its undertaking. 



There is a broad field here for earnest 

 and industrious labor. Your northern red- 

 breasts, meadowlarks and kindred birds of 

 passage have a dangerous gauntlet to run 

 in going to and from their winter resorts. 

 Great strings of robins and larks are of- 

 fered for sale on our streets as articles of 

 food every autumn and spring. Nor are 

 the birds who summer with us exempt. 

 The mockingbird, prince of our song birds, 

 becomes a source of revenue. Relentlessly 

 and industriously is his nest plundered, his 

 little ones taken captive to be reared for a 

 foreign market. Will Madame, who "so 

 wishes to have a mockingbird," remember 

 that to gratify her wish at least four nests 

 must be taken? These birds it should be 

 understood do not breed in captivity. They 

 must be taken when young from their nest 

 and wild mother, and at least half of those 

 taken are not singers; of the remainder 

 scarcely a tenth survives the unnatural con- 



ditions. This, then, my lady friend, is the 

 price of your beautiful singer. 



We already begin to note with concern 

 that mockingbirds are becoming scarce, 

 and are told by some that the advent of the 

 English sparrow is driving them away, 

 where? If the Audubon Society can pre- 

 vent the traffic in these birds they will re- 

 turn in spite of the sparrow who, poor little 

 ragged, persistent chatterer that he is, finds 

 himself the scapegoat for many a worse 

 marauder. He is said to drive other birds 

 away, and do no end of other misdeeds, 

 besides making of himself a nuisance gen- 

 erally. Let me ask my Southern friends 

 why it is that since his appearance in force 

 we have escaped the annual plague of the 

 caterpillar. Has he "driven" them away 

 also? If so, welcome little nuisance. 



I have been in the habit of noting down 

 a few little items to me interesting in spring, 

 but up to the last month have given but a 

 line or so to them in my housebook amid 

 bills of butcher and baker. Since reading 

 an article in the April Chautauquan, by our 

 friend John Burroughs, I have been led to 

 try something more extended, and am 

 already more than repaid for outlay in 

 time by my note on the oriole. 



I quote from them, hoping they may not 

 be uninteresting to the readers of the 

 Audubon: 



First week in February, 1886. — "The 

 robins are here in great numbers, and how 

 disappointed they must be, it is so cold. 

 There are numbers of the cardinal red- 

 bird also, and a little gray-breasted, brown- 

 backed and brown-winged fellow that we 

 call a sparrow, not knowing his real name. 

 I have scattered millet, oatmeal and cracker 

 crumbs for them, but so far as I can see all 

 of them prefer the little hard cedar berry." 



