182 General Notes. [J"'y 



the hardlj-to be-mistaken song of this bird. Next morning I was on the 

 ground early, heard the song again, and finally obtained a sight of the 

 singer so closely as to render the identification complete; but unfortun- 

 ately failed to secure him. During the following week I looked for him 

 every morning and evening, but he was no more to be heard or seen. 



The record of this bird for Massachusetts (for all New England as well) . 

 as given in the latest work (Coues's Stearns of tSSi), embraces three 

 examples, no one of which was taken in the spring, unless possibly the 

 first, in 1845, when the month is not given. 



I send this note with hesitation, mindful of the ancient comparision of 

 values of "a bird in hand," etc. (a low estimate from an Ornithological 

 point of view!), but as I saw distinctly the white outer tail-feathers so 

 characteristic of C^o«(fe5z'e5, and heard the remarkable Canary-like notes 

 several times, I consider the identification positive. — F. C. Browne, Fra- 

 mingham., Mass. 



The Meadow Lark {Stur7iella magna) in Vermont in Winter. — 

 This species generally leaves for the south by the middle of October and 

 I have never, till now, noted them later than this. On December 9, 1SS2, 

 I shot a male in this vicinity, the ground at the time being covered with 

 three inches of snow. On dissection the crop was found to be filled with 

 an unrecognizable mass of insects, probably beetles. — F. H. Knowlton, 

 Mtddlebury, Vt. 



Geococcyx as a Vocalist.- — Whilst out on a ramble a few weeks since 

 in the foot-hills near San Diego, I chanced to make the (to me) interest- 

 ing discovery of the possession of considerable vocal powers by the Road- 

 runners. I had stopped for a few moments' rest and shelter from a noon- 

 day sun, beneath the scant shade of an elder tree, and as I lay enjoying 

 my "siesta" I heard from a hill-side in front of me what I at first thought to 

 be the cooing of a Dove. I probably would have paid no particular atten- 

 tion had it not been that a friend with me, inquiring what it was that 

 made the cry, I undertook to show him the supposed Dove. Again, and 

 a third time, the cry was repeated before I could discover the originator, 

 and when I did I could not at first credit my eyes when my ears had been 

 so at fault. Not a tree or bush of decent size could be seen as a shelter 

 for my Dove, and I marvelled that it should "coo" so contentedly from 

 such a lonely site, and this it was that stimulated search — ocular search — 

 for the author of the now mysterious cry. 



The hill-side being only scantily covered by a scattering growth of 

 cactus and low bushes, permitted a thorough looking over, and yet it was 

 some minutes before I saw its only occupant and the vocalist whose some- 

 what ventriloquial notes had puzzled me, a male Geococcyx californianus. 



Standing near the summit of the hillock, amidst his favorite cactus, and 

 with outstretched neck and head bent down, he would titter, as if by pro- 

 digious eftort, the lugubrious notes I had wrongly thought the cooing of 

 the Dove. At each iteration of the cry he seemed to make a renewed 



