34 



THE ORNITHOLOGIST AND BOTANIST. 



of the house, in a whirl of peavines 

 which had slipped from their support. 

 There came some rainy days altho' the 

 sun shone intermittently and when I 

 again looked into the nest the little birds 

 were dead and the nest was alive with 

 lice caused by the dampness. The poor 

 disappointed mother sat for hours near 

 by, with a woi-m in her mouth. At the 

 same time another family, on the sunny 

 side of the houge was successfully reared. 



The golden-winged woodpecker, with 

 his thirty-five other names, is a comical 

 fellow in his ways, and tho' of a serious 

 visage, frequently utters a hearty laugh. 

 He shows considerable curiosity, as he 

 sits with his head out of his hole in the 

 tree, near the street, turning it this way 

 and that, to look at passers by. It is 

 amusing to see the postures that he takes 

 and the gestures that he makes when 

 disputing. I have seen two of them 

 facing each other, talking vociferously, 

 straightening themselves up until they 

 curved backwards, and wagging their 

 heads from side to side energetically. 

 Two others stood looking on as witness- 

 es, or perhaps as seconds, tho' I saw no 

 duel except the vocal one. 



The voracious jay has a ridiculous way 

 of filling himself to his utmost capacity, 

 when the opportunity presents itself, 

 and then, when unable to contain anoth- 

 er mouthful, retiring to a short distance 

 from the tempting repast, and sitting 

 with hanging head, until able to return 

 and gorge himself once more. This well- 

 dressed corvus has visited my orchard 

 frequently this winter. The frequent 

 snows have driven them out foraging ; 

 but during the two previous winters, in 

 which we had scarcely any snow, I did 

 not see any of them. What a lovely 

 shade of blue this bird has on its should- 

 ers, and how the black velvety neck- 

 lace sets off the light hue of its throat! 

 We hang up bones and ears of corn for 

 them in the trees, and sometimes they 

 come to the meal patch under the win- 

 dow, but are too fearful to stop long. 



I hear the meadow larks in the river- 

 fields, in midwinter and at all times of 

 the year, tho' some writers say that they 

 pass the winter as far north as Penn- 

 sylvania only. When hidden in the 

 meadow grass, they call in a plaintive 

 tone, "see-e-e me-e-e;" and when perch- 

 ed on the ridgepole of the barn, they 

 cry out more loudly, " can't see me-e-e." 

 One cold morning, after the promise of 

 spring, I heard one saying in a disap- 

 pointed tone, "too cold for me-e-e." 



One of my kingbirds had the peculiar- 

 ity of soaring, like the English skylark, 

 tho' not as high and the object of its 

 upward tendency was probably more 

 practical, and less sentimental. I hung 

 some Florida moss, as an ornament, on 

 a tree at the entrance to my wharf -arbor, 

 but a kingbird, thinking that it should 

 be useful instead of ornamental, ab- 

 stracted it, thread by thread, and made 

 a nest high over head. When she had 

 completed it, she too, began to think of 

 adornment, for she made a fringe to it, 

 by leaving many long ends dangling 

 downward. 



SPRING NOTES. 



BY MRS. S. E. ROESSLER, NEW HAVEN, CONN. 



How can one refuse to accept the in- 

 vitation of Spring to go forth on hunt- 

 ing tours in search of dainty buds of 

 promise ? March winds have fanned 

 yonder hedge row, April showers have 

 bedewed the sunny nooks, and a breath 

 so invigorating and streng-thening has 

 coaxed the tribe of Anemone, to peep 

 from shady woods and moist pastures, 

 that one cannot stay in doors. The 

 Calthapalustris, with its golden crown, 

 maybe only a cow slip; the Erythron- 

 ium with its lily-like bloom and mot- 

 tled leafage, may be only the adder's 

 tongue; the spring beauty {Claytonia), 

 only a pink nestling, on the lap of early 

 summer; but these wildings are woven 

 on every hill-side, with flower-lore and 

 legends rare. 



