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AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



One day — this was earlier in the winter — a Wren hopped about on the 

 roof just outside of my study window. His plumes were sadly frayed 

 and ruffled and thinned out, for he was moulting; but when his voice 

 soon afterwards was lifted in song, there was no diminution in the fer- 

 vor or loudness or optimism of his tones. Brave and hardy little min- 

 strel! He deserves an ode or a saga all to himself. Will not some 

 Shelley or Wordsworth give a proper apostrophe? 



BIRDS ON THE PLAINS. 



This summer we enjoyed our 



vacation on the western plains. 



We were in Wyoming. We found 



its bird life a source of constant 



enjoyment. There, for the first 



time, we heard the song of the 



Lark — it seemed the embodiment 



of joy. Scores of Meadow Larks 



met us every where, for the state 



law protects them from the gun 



of the sportsman. In our drives 



through the meadows, they would 

 run along near our track, as trustful- as God meant they should ever 

 be. We saw some mother Larks that used the ruse of the Quail, 

 limping along hurriedly in a direction away from the nest, then 

 suddenly taking wing and flying far away. 



The freedom of the birds was most pleasing to me, who have been 

 used to birds taking to the woods for safety. One day we were cross- 

 ing a meadow of five hundred acres, and as our horses trotted along, we 

 became aware that a band of bank swallows was following us, circling 

 about the horses' heads, many times flying close to our faces. They 

 stayed with us until we reached the open trail. My curiosity was 

 aroused to find such difference between the manners of these swallows 

 and those of their Ohio cousins. I asked the ranchman with whom we 

 were staying, and it proved to be their common habit. As the horses' 

 feet stir swarms of insects from the grass, the wise little swallows 

 gather them for food. 



Many wading birds were spending the summer among the numerous 

 lakes, ponds and mountain streams of the plains. Some two miles 

 from us a Great Blue Heron had built its nest in the top of a tall old 

 cottonwood tree. We saw the Herons many times, as they frequented 



