THE OOLOGIST. 



203 



THEOOLOGIST 



AMoNTHLY Magazine Devoted to 

 ORNITHOLOGY AND OOLOGY. 



FRANK H. LATTIN, ALBION, N. Y. 



EDITOR AND PUBLISHER. 



UEIL F. POSSON, MEDINA, N. Y. 

 ASSOCIATE EDITOR. 



CorresponrtPiice and Items ot Interest to the 

 student of iSlids. their Nests and E'^gs, solicited 

 from all. 



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HE POST OFFICE AT ALBION, 



AS SECOND-CLASS MATTER. 



•The Autumn time is with us ! Its approach 



Was heralded, not many days ago, 

 By hazy skies that veiled the brazen sun. 



And sea-like murmurs from the rustling corn. 

 And low- voiced brooks that wandered drowsily 



By purpling clusters of the juicy grape, 

 Swinging upon the vine. And now, 'tis here. 



And what a change has passed upon the face 

 Of Nature, where thy waving forests spread, 



Then robed in deepest green : All through 



[the night 

 The subtle frost hath plied its mystic art. 



And In the day the golden sun hath wrought 

 True wonders ; and the wings of morn and even 



Have touched with magic Tsreath the chang- 



[ing leaves." 

 —Gallagher. 



A Collecting Adventure. 



Tlie pathway of tlie Oologist is not 

 ahvay.s strowu witlt rose.s. Called 

 crauk by his friends, chased by dogs 

 aud angry farmers, tramping through 

 raiu and mud, his lot is not easy. Dur- 

 ing this last season, a friend of mine 

 and I discovered a Blue-gray Gnat- 

 catcher's nest, in an apple tree, near a 

 farmer's house. We asked him if we 

 could collect them, and he told us if he 

 caught us on his place he would set the 

 dogs on us. 



A few days after that we saw his sou 

 in town and he had both of his father's 

 dogs with him. Now was our chance, 

 and we lost no time in getting out to 

 that farm-house. There did not seem 

 to be any one at home, but the old 

 farmer was working out in a field in 

 plain ^•iew of the tree in which the nest 

 was. How to get the nest and eggs, 

 without him seeing us was the question . 

 The old fellow was a great politician 

 and I thought if I could get him into a 

 discussion he would not pay any atten- 

 tion to what was going on over in the 

 orchard. I went up to him and wished 

 him good-day, and we talked about the 

 weather, crops, etc. At last I got to 

 talking politics. Finally the old gentle- 

 man concluded it was too hot to work 

 out in the sun and we sat down under 

 a tree. As good luck would have it, he 

 sat witli his back to the orchard. I 

 could see my friend sneaking from tree 

 to tree, fast approaching the one in 

 which tlie nest was. All the Avhile we 

 were busily discussing the merits of our 

 favorite candidates for '92, Benjamin 

 Butler would have turned green with 

 envy, if he could have heard the ease 

 Avith which I changed my views to suit 

 those of the old farmer. Just as he 

 was declaring he would bet seven 

 bushels of potatoes that his candidate 

 would get there, I heard the "shrill call 

 of a Quail" far up the I'oad, and I knew 

 my frtend had been successful. I bade 



