AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 353 



local lists in pamphlet form to those in the most scientific publica- 

 tions, — general and almost meaningless terms prevail. "Abundant, 

 -common, not common, tolerably common, quite common," these are 

 in common use. How little they mean ! (and how much they are sup- 

 posed to mean.) But each person has his own standard and what 

 ""common" means to one person may mean "not common" to another. 

 I can convey to no one any definite idea when I say "not common mi- 

 :grant." How many more is "common than "not common?" "Toler- 

 ably common, quite common," what are their opposites ? To be good 

 terms their opposites must be good. If lists would give some num- 

 "bers, some real data, it might be possible to conceive of things. And 

 what an unsystematic, unscientific spirit these loose words reveal ! 



May every sincere observer who reads this, remember that the world 

 is changing and that "the kind I've always bought, therefore buy it 

 .again" won't do. norman o. foerster. 



HOW A MOCKINGBIRD LEARNS A TUNE 



By Anna Head. 



A nest-full of very young Mockingbirds were bought of an Indian 

 iDoy on the wharf at San Diego," California, and brought home on the 

 ■steamer in a cigar box. For some time they had to be fed by hand on 

 iiies, worms, and hard boiled egg, and in this way became extremely 

 tame. 



One of them proved to be a fine male and for eleven years was the 

 ■delight of our household. He knew not only every member of the 

 iamily by name, but greeted even certain favored guests in a special 

 Avay. His chief expression of affection was a very soft whisper, hardly 

 a chirp, uttered with half shut eyes and feathers rufifled up, while he 

 liumped his back and drew his head m between his shoulders. He 

 showed his dislike of our maid w^hose broom was his great terror, by 

 f>trutting up and down with his tail and wings spread like an angry 

 Turkey cock, and scolding in a harsh, grating tone. 



I wished to see if he could learn to sing a strain of human music in 

 addition to his own wild melodies, which held us fascinated in the 

 moonlight nights of spring. So I kept his cage beside me while at 

 -work and whistled over and over two lines of Bonny Doon, "Thou'll 

 iDreak my heart, thou bonny bird, A warbling on the greenwood tree." 

 I thought the intervals in that strain had something of the "woodnote 

 wild" and ought not to be hard for him. All day, and day after day I 

 iept it up, and still Mockie showed no signs of interest. He kept un- 

 usually still, however, with his head often on one side and his eyes half 



