i8 



THE ORNITHOLOGIST AND BOTANIST. 



The poet Bryant has made the round-leaved 

 yellow violet (V. rotundifolia) famous by his 

 poem, "The yellow violet," beginning: — 

 " When beechen buds begin to swell, 



And woods the blue-bird's warble know, 

 The yellow violet's modest bell. 



Peeps from the last year's leaves below." 

 In another verse the flower is described: — 

 " Thy parent sun, who bade thee view 

 Pale skies, and chilling inoisture sip. 

 Has bathed thee in his own bright hue. 

 And streaked with jet thy glowing lip." 

 This large and beautiful violet grows only in the 

 cold, wet woodlands of our Northern States. 

 The author makes it the first spring flower but 

 it is not so, with us, although it is the first of its 

 genus. 



When this violet has been in blossom some 

 time, another yellow one, called the downy yel- 

 low violet (V. pubescens) appears in rich woods. 

 This is a stemmed violet and produces flowers 

 much resembling the other, but paler. The 

 name, however, is a misnomer, for the plant is 

 not always downy; often quite the reverse. 



There are two more pale-blue violets that 

 grow in the woods, one with a stem and the 

 other without, and called respectively, the long- 

 spurred violet (V. rostrata), and the arrow-leaved 

 violet (V. sagittata). The former is named from 

 its long flower-spur and the latter from the 

 shape of the leaves. The flowers of both are 

 rather small. The arrow-leaved violet is very 

 common on the edge of the woods but is not so 

 great a favorite as its deep-blue cousin. 



TWO OWLS IN CAPTIVITY. 



BY DR. W.-S. STRODE, BERN.4DOTTE, ILL. 



Before introducing my great horned owl, I 

 will briefly state how I came to possess him. 

 One day in March, while searching for nests of 

 the red-tail hawk, my dog that was some dis- 

 tance in advance, suddenly commenced a loud 

 and excited barking. On going to him, I dis- 

 covered the cause to be a young Bubo virgin- 

 lanus, still in the downy plumage. It had fallen 

 from the parental nest in an old hollow tree on 

 the hillside above and had rolled and tumbled 

 about until the creek bed, below, was reached 

 and was there nicely covered up with leaves by 

 the parent birds. My dog, in scouting and 



smelling around, had run his nose against this 

 startling apparition of down, beak, claws and 

 great yellow eyes, and was frightened almost 

 out of his wits; with tail between his legs and 

 eyes protruding, he was making the woods ring 

 with his fierce barking. 



Taking the baby Bjbo home with me, I put 

 him into an outhouse, and two days later, gave 

 him for a companion the young barred owl, 

 spoken of in the last chapter. The boys of the 

 village at once adopted them, calling the barred 

 owl. Bob, and the great-horned, Dick. 



They ate greedily of all manner of flesh that 

 was offered them and grew quite rapidly; the 

 Bubo, however, much more rapidly than the 

 barred, so that in a short time he was twice as 

 large as his mate. 



They were the greatest of friends and if one 

 was removed from the apartments the other 

 would be greatly agitated and almost inconsol- 

 able until it was returned, and then such a 

 bowing and scraping to each other would be 

 enough to arouse the risibilities in a marble 

 statue. 



Sometimes I would take a dog into their 

 house, which would excite them very much. 

 Seeking the highest perch in the building they 

 would screech, growl and hoot, getting very 

 near to each other as if for mutual protection. 

 Bob would conceal his head under Dick's wing, 

 or would get between his legs and then look 

 down defiantly at the unwelcome intruder. As 

 they grew older their courage increased until 

 finally they would attack any dog or cat that 

 dared to come near them. The onslaught was 

 generally preceded by a certain amount of 

 preparation, such as, screeches, hoots, growls, 

 bowings, by running along the perch and back 

 again, swaying the body and head in a circle, 

 first one way and then the other, looking hard 

 at the intruder and bowing, and then at each 

 other and bowing, until finally having worked 

 their courage up to the sticking point, with a 

 fierce scream they would dash at the animal, 

 so frightening it, that it would flee from their 

 presence with yells of terror. By and by, the 

 barred owl come to be the leader in these at- 

 tacks, probably from his impatience and greater 

 activity. Their subsequent actions were oft- 

 times ludicrous in the extreme, and their chat- 



