84 



THE OOLOGIST. 



But when winter's over, and spring comes 

 again, 



We miss for a season thy pleasing refrain; 



Where then do you go with your bright 

 golden crest, 



To seek in seclusion a place for they nest? 



Then I wish I might see, when in summer 

 I roam. 



In some deep tangled wildwood, the place 

 of they home, 



And gaze on thy nest amid deep sheltered 

 bowers, 



Where the green garb of summer is ming- 

 led with flowers; 



Where no voice of a foe, or dread sound of 

 a gun, 



May disturb thy retreat till thy purpose is 

 done; 



Come again to our woodlands when sum- 

 mer is done, 



And low in the south sinks the late autumn 

 sun, 



When the birds of our summer, to the trop- 

 ics have flown; 



And the leaves of the forest are withered 

 and gone; 



When the white snow of winter lies deep on 

 the ground; 



And the cold Arctic breezes are blustering 

 around; 



When but few other birds will so cheerily 

 sing, 



Till our winter departs at the voice of the 

 spring. 



Wm. L. Kells. 



From Nebraska. 



Editor Oolngist : 



Reading the descriptions of collecting 

 trips in the The Oologist reminds me of 

 the "best day" I have ever had. It was in 

 the season of 1885, which, by the way, is 

 the year in which I became interested in 

 oology, when I decided to go on a collect- 

 ing trip. As there is no one in Geneva 

 besides myself interested in oology I went 

 alone. In order to reach the river where I 

 meant to go, I had to cross a large prairie 

 farm, just the place to collect, so of course 

 I commenced hunting for nests of the 



Prairie Hens and Killdeers. I had been 

 tramping around awhile and had found 

 three sets of Killdeer's (one set had two 

 eggs and the others three each) when I was 

 startled by a loud whirr, and looking down 

 saw within three feet of me a nest of the 

 Prairie Hen containing nine eggs. You can 

 easily see how elated I felt. Well, I passed 

 on trying to find more but did not until I 

 came to the river ; there of course I found 

 plenty of such as Blue Jays, Catbirds, 

 Thrush etc., etc., and was beginning to 

 despair of finding anything rare, when I 

 looked up and saw — well, I felt like " yell- 

 ing right out " — for it was the nest of a 

 Great Horned Owl. But there was one diffi- 

 culty. I had just got a new pair of climb- 

 ers, and did not know how to use them as 

 well as I do now ; but finally I got up and 

 got the eggs — three — down safely. After 

 hunting around a while longer I started 

 home, richer by many specimens than I 

 had been in the morning. 



Anton Dworak. 



Geneva, Neb. 



Interesting Notes From Connecticut. 



The Screech Owl.— May 6th, 1884, 

 while crossing an orchard, my brother who 

 was investigating an old apple tree, shouted 

 to me thfft he had found a hawk's nest. 

 Running across the lot I was soon in the 

 tree. At a glance I saw it was a screech 

 owl, and running my hand down the hole, 

 I pulled her out. She was in the red 

 feathers, which seem to be the most com- 

 mon here, gray ones being seldom seen. 

 The hole which was formerly occupied by 

 a flicker, was handsonieh' lined with Blue 

 Jay, Thrush, Chewink and other feathers. 

 The nest contained five pure white eggs. 

 Incubation was so far advanced that it was 

 difficult to blow them. 



The Red-shouldered Hawk. — This is 

 one of our most common hawks. The nest 

 of this hawk is placed on the high trees in 

 swampy woods. The nest is composed of 

 sticks and leaves, and lined with sprays of 

 green cedar. The number of eggs is given 



