240 Bird - Lore 



ceasing hum of the myriads of mosquitos, which strive to penetrate our hammock 

 nets, and a few of which invariably manage to find their way in. Early next 

 morning, with the first whistle of wings of a passing flock of Muscovy Ducks, 

 the sun appears upon the distant savanna horizon. A loud clattering of beaks 

 draws our attention upward to a line of seven Jabirus flying over the house; 

 a deep-voiced note, A-ru-co! A-rit-co! announces the presence of a Horned 

 Screamer* behind the bungalow, and another tropical day has dawned. 



^Palamedea cnrnuta 



TO A COLLECTION OF BRAZILIAN 

 HUMMINGBIRDS 



Dainty motes of airy thought, 

 Iridescent fancies caught 

 On a weft by magic \vrought 



To a bird's dear guise! 

 Starry lusters, steely glints, 

 Flower and flame and sunset tints, 

 Volitant, stray color-hints 



That elude mine eyes! 

 Oflf, with you, to lands remote, 

 Cousins of my Ruby-throat — 

 Off, in South-sea dreams afloat. 



Now my fancy flies! 



Where strange flowers their odors flung. 

 You on vibrant wing have hung, — 

 Probed for sweets, with arrowy tongue, — 



Honey-wine and meal! 

 I'll not think how, as you sipped 

 From those blossoms, Circe-lipped, 

 You of light and life were stripped! 



Rather, let me feel 

 I can see you, as you poise. 

 Hovering, with a dream-like noise; 

 Let me share those flowery joys, — 



Deep in warm Brazil! 



— Edith M. Thomas. 



