44 



THE OOLOGIST. 



A Brown Thrush, in Confinement. 



On the 5th of July, 1885, while collect- 

 ing eggs, I found the nest of a Brown- 

 thrush; it was beatifully situated about 

 three feet from the ground, and surrounded 

 with leaves. The cry of the old bird first 

 attracted rny attention; I understood her 

 to tell me that her nest was not far away. 

 I looked for it and found it. The nest con- 

 tained five eggs, and was composed of 

 twigs and horse hair, and was lined with 

 grasses and leaves. My desire long before 

 this was to get one of these birds into my 

 possession while young, so I left the nest 

 untouched. 



Two weeks after this I went to the nest 

 and found five young Brown Thrushes. 

 These were about one or two days old; I 

 returned to the nest almost every day and 

 the young Thrushes grew larger. At last I 

 thought it would be about time to take one, 

 which I did. I fed it with flies and worms. 

 On the following morning we awoke earlier 

 than usual, from the cries this bird uttered. 

 We had to put the food into his bill, which 

 he opened very wide, when anybody came 

 to him, for two weeks ; then he ate a little 

 himself, and soon afterwards as well 

 as other birds. He is very fond of spider. 

 In the Jan. No. of the Oologist I read 

 that these birds would not sing in con- 

 finement, if this is so, mine is an exception . 

 After it was about 1 year old, it sang beau- 

 tifully, but not as loud as they do when 

 they are free. He is very tame, I often 

 open the door of his cage, and let him fly in 

 the room ; he will then come to me if I 

 catch a fly or a spider for him. If he is 

 teased, he will make use of his bill. His moth- 

 er occupied the old nest the following year, 

 but never after that. These birds are very 

 numerous in our neighborhood. 



Max C. Fernekes, Milwaukee, Wis. 



A Suggestion. 



It seems to me, that if we oologists in- 

 tend to stand up for bird-protection, (as we 

 should) we ought to have some limit to the 

 number of sets which we take. 



Now I have always advocated collecting 

 sets, because so much more can be learned 

 from them than from single eggs, but I civ 

 that when we find a large number of nest 

 of a certain species which vary but little, 

 instead of taking all we can "clutch," five 

 or six of the most typical sets ought to sat- 

 isfy us. Then, if after that, we find any 

 really peculiar sets, we might take them if 

 we wanted to. 



I limit myself (with a few exceptions) to 

 five full sets of the same species in a season. 

 and I think I learn nearly, if not quite as 

 much from them as I would from twenty 

 or thirty sets, while 1 don't feel so much 

 like a "Great American Egg Hog," as some 

 writer has expressed it. 



I admit that if one should be so lucky as 

 to find a large number of rare nests, it 

 would be considerable of a temptation to 

 take them all, but then, we must be careful, 

 or with too many greedy oologists, and 

 other "instruments of destruction," some 

 of our birds will become so rare that ue 

 can't find any at all. 



A good many will say they want to have 

 a large number so the can trade them for 

 other eggs — well, ail I can say to this is, that, 

 although exchanging may be very good to a 

 certain extent, I had a good deal rather 

 have sets of my own collecting, than those 

 collected by others. 



Arthur H. Howell, Brooklyn, N. Y. 



A Large Set of Eggs of the Red- 

 headed "Woodpecker. 



In the January Oologist, A. K. Quain- 

 tance speaks of taking two sets of six eggs 

 each, of the Red-headed Woodpecker, and 

 asks for an equal. 



While collecting on Crow Cr., Weld Co., 

 Colorado, last May, I took a set of ten eggs 

 of the Red-head. The eggs varied in size 

 from the ordinary size, down to the size of 

 a Song Sparrow's egg. Incubation varied 

 from fresh in the smallest egg, to advanced 

 in the largest. The nest was in the end 

 of a rotten limb of a large willow, about 

 twenty feet from the ground. 



R. C. McGregor, Poway, Cal. 



