AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



173 



ttASiid 



address all communications to 

 Meg Merrythought 

 156 Waterville St., Waterbury, Ct. 



My Dear Young Folks: — 



On a certain farm among the high hills in Northern Connecticut^ there is 

 :an immense cornfield. Last May^ when the farmer's plow turned up the first 

 rich brown furrow at the end of the field, a little mother at the farther side 

 :anxiously watched and guarded four creamy brown-specked eggs at the base 

 •of some cornstalks remaining from last year's growth. 



. . To many of you a Killdeer Plover's nest is a common sight, but the boys 

 and girls in this state count that a red-letter day when they find her nesting 

 among their hills. 



This could hardly be called a nest, for it was but a slight hollow in the 

 brown earth — but it was beautifully lined — with what.'' I am sure you 

 would never guess. Simply with hundreds of pumpkin seeds. Perhaps the 

 fall before, Johnny had made a j ack-a-lantern, perhaps a pumpkin had 

 l)een left to decay in the field, at all events. Mother Killdeer found the con- 

 tents of the yellow globe, and had made a quaint lining for her nest. 



The eggs were placed on end in a compact circle, (do you know the reason 

 for that.^) with the larger end upward. Both birds seemed to guard the sjjot, 

 and when approached, would try to lure away the intruders by the old trick 

 of a broken wing, with tail feathers opening and closing like a fan, showino- 

 the pretty rufous coloring, they fluttered farther and farther from the nest, 

 dialling plaintively, "Oh dear! Oh dear! dear! Then they would turn to- 

 wards us and show glistening in the sunlight, the snow-white breast, with 

 ithe striking black bands. 



