wing — where diligent and persistent urging on the part of the donor's grandchildren 

 may discover the same under an ancient accumulation of dust. 



The dolessness and helplessness of perfectly well-intentioned donors in picking- 

 out perfectly well-intentioned but perfectly unqualified recipients for their life collec- 

 tions is a sight to make angels weep. Only this last week the writer entertained a 

 busy man of affairs, who had been privileged to spend many years in an oriental 

 country, and who had accumulated perhaps the finest collection of birds' eggs ever 

 gotten together in that country. But because of increasing cares, and pro bono publico, 

 this gentleman had donated his life collection to one of the largest museums of our 

 land. And, as he told me, "they never even thanked me for it." The chagrin and 

 humiliation depicted upon this man's face as he recalled how his life offering had been 

 scorned, was something pitiful to see. As matter of fact, as I am informed upon 

 the highest authority, not a dozen people a year ever ask to see the birds' eggs in the 

 institution named. Better, a thousand times better, is intelligent private ownership, 

 with glimpses to inquiring friends, than the virtual oblivion of certain public museums. 



It is in view of this well-known and intolerable situation that the Museum of 

 Comparative Oology has dared to propose a co-operative enterprise. We believe that 

 we are dead right in the claim that in the special field of oology, only the completest 

 system of co-operation will achieve a complete demonstration and vindication of 

 oology as science. We believe that the time is ripe for such co-operation. As matter 

 of fact, we have "tried the air" in this regard, and we are thoroughly satisfied with 

 the direction of the wind. Our proposals have been ratified by some of the most 

 responsible leaders of oological thought, and they have been endorsed by responsible 

 exponents of field practice. Our prediction is that where a score or so stand pledged 

 today, the year 1920 will treble the support of the co-operative idea. The pride of 

 common ownership, a heart-warming and generous pride, will reward the efforts of 

 co-operative contributors. The glory of social achievement will seize the imagina- 

 tion of the timid and the isolated, and the joy of fellowship will displace rivalry and 

 confusion, as certainly as Lake Tahoe gathers to her cairn breast the tumultuous 

 activities of a thousand torrents. 



Perhaps this vision bears a suspicious resemblance to that of Joseph — Joseph, 

 who first saw his brethren as sheaves and then as stars making obeisance to him. 

 But those who so conceive our claims miss our point, just as the brethren of Joseph 

 did — at first. For without pausing to note that Joseph made good in his assump- 

 tions, we hasten to observe that that which resulted was twelve brethren working- 

 together, a united Israel, the most enduring historical monument, as well as the 

 most useful and capable people which the ages have left us. The writer cares not 

 whether you name him Joseph or some other leader more worthy. The point is that 

 the co-operative idea will succeed, and it is the only idea which will succeed, whether 

 in museum-building or business-building or empire-building. The writer predicts, then, 

 with the utmost confidence that the idea of co-operation now lodged will work during 

 the season of 1920. 



THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE UNUSUAL. 



In an excellent article entitled "Egg Collecting and Its Objects," which appeared 

 in the November "O. E. & M." from the pen of E. C. Stuart Baker, Esq., the Honor- 

 ary Secretary of the B. O. U., the author stresses the importance of collecting normal 

 egg material, and deprecates attention to rare varieties and abnormalities. In 

 particular, Mr. Baker says, "Uncommon types of eggs, or clutches of eggs, are in 

 themselves useful only in that they show the extreme of variation we must expect 

 and allow for before we lay down hard and fast rules upon our scheme of coloration, 

 but we must not base our conclusions upon them." This admonition may have 

 practical value for collectors of limited opportunities or of limited cabinet space; but 

 in laying it down as a guiding principle of the science, it seems to me that Colonel 

 Haker has missed the priceless phylogenetic significance which unusual types some- 

 times possess; for somewhere among the sum of all existing abnormalities, or "freaks."' 

 there are sure to be a few reversions to type. In some cases the significance of this 

 evidence may be instantly detected. For example, the M. C. O. has in its cabinets an egg 

 of the American Robin, or Migratory Thrush, Planesticus migratorius, which is sharply 

 and profusely spotted with hazel. Without doubt this outbreak of red pigment recalls 

 the time when the ancestral Robin laid red-spotted eggs, just as the Hylocichline 

 and Ixorean Thrushes, and a dozen besides, do today. This "freak" egg, possibly 

 unique among a hundred thousand of its unspotted fellows, is of the utmost significance 

 in confirming our belief, not alone in the Turdine affinities of Planesticus, but in the 

 priority of the red-spotted type among Passerine eggs having blue grounds. It is an 

 irruption of the primitive and not merely a "limit of variation." 



To take another example. A set of two eggs of the Brewer Blackbird (Euphagus 



Page twenty 



