near. Then their habit of worrying over 

 their own dead works to their destruc- 

 tion. 



The young are fed for several weeks, 

 until their wings are sufficiently devel- 

 oped to make them fully independent. 

 Wilson says that when the birds are very 

 young the parent alights on the ground 

 and tears to pieces the fish which it has 

 caught, feeding it to its young in frag- 

 ments of a proper size for the little bird 

 to swallow. Later on, the parent feeds 

 them without alighting, and when the 

 young are nearly ready to fly, it drops the 

 fish among them and the most active of 

 the flock usually gets the food. The 

 young birds before they are entirely in- 

 dependent, however, also search for 

 insects in the nearby marshes. 



The female sits on the eggs only dur- 

 ing the night or in wet and stormy 

 weather. During the day, in pleasant 

 w rather, the heat of the sun usually fur- 

 nishes sufficient warmth. Though not 

 sitting on the nest during the daytime, 

 the parents are usually not far away and 

 are in sight of the nest. On the appear- 

 ance of an intruder they exhibit great 

 concern and, flying around, utter a hoarse 

 cry in a very excited manner. 



Dr. Dawson has written : "What a 

 piece of work is a Tern ! how gentle in 

 instinct ! how untrammeled in discus- 

 sion ! in form and moving how elegant 

 and admirable ! in action how like the 

 swallow ! in innocence how like the 

 dove ! the beauty of the air ! the paragon 

 of sea-birds !" 



THE CROWS' WEDDING. 



It was a day early in April. Joe, my 

 brother, and I were out plowing the field, 

 where we had been since early morning. 

 The breath of spring was in the air, and 

 I remember I could hardly wait until the 

 noon hour when I should be at liberty to 

 lie on my back and just drink in each 

 little bit of awakening Nature. 



At last it was twelve o'clock. I was 

 hungry, yet I did not care to eat. I flung 

 myself down under an old stone wall 

 which acted as a buffer against the some- 

 what keen wind that was blowing, and 

 there with my face turned up to the sky 

 I lay, bathing my face in the struggling 

 spring warmth of the sun. 



High overhead the sky was the old 

 intense blue, with here and there an 

 island of woolly white clouds ; they 

 looked as if someone had tossed up 

 fleecy, white shawls and they had hung 

 there in the sky. The fresh earthy smell 

 from the newly plowed field came to me 

 — the truest odor of the world's return- 

 ing life of which I know. I closed my 

 eyes sleepily, deliciously giving myself up 

 to every spring influence — to the timidly 



tried love-song of a far-away robin, to 

 the chatter of some gay little squirrels, 

 and to the caw of a seeming multitude of 

 crows. What a row they were making' 

 And quite near- they were, too. 



I shoved myself up on my elbow and 

 peered over the old wall. 



"Joe," I exclaimed, "look here !" 



Our astonished eyes beheld any quan- 

 tity of crows, all formed in a long line, 

 and making the most dreadful racket ; 

 then suddenly all was quiet and a huge 

 old crow stepped out in front, and in 

 crow language addressed the assembled 

 crow colony. 



When his speech was finished, a young 

 crow walked out of the line and slowly 

 and carefully began an inspection of the 

 lady crows. At last he seemed to find 

 one who met with his ideas of feminine 

 beauty, and together they flew away. This 

 little scene was repeated again and again, 

 until all the crows had flown away in 

 pairs in all directions of the compass. 



We had stayed there watching them 

 long past the hour allowed for dinner, 

 and old Bob, the farm horse, was begin- 



