-THE LOON 



Vol. 1. MAY, 1889. No. 5. 



THE WHIPPOORWILL. 



THE old moon coffined in a cloud 



Withholds her beams from vale and hill, 



While through the sultry silence comes 

 The quaint song of the whippoorwill. 



In leaf-bound quietude he sings, 



And does not crave the boon of light, 



Save those small lamps the fireflies bear, 

 Winged nomads of the summer night! 



William H. Hayne. 



The BROWN THRUSH. 



JOHN E. DOUGLASS, JR. 



The brown thrush, by common consent, is the favorite 

 song bird of our North. He arrives about the 10th of 

 April, a little earlier or later as the season is retarded or 

 advanced; but when the lilacs are in bloom he is in full 



