is that they yield to the great temptation 

 before them, forgetting for the time the 

 excellent reputation they had borne 

 while they were in the North, and think- 

 ing only of eating and getting fat. They 

 are apparently oblivious to the fact that 

 they have here become one of the most 

 despised of birds and give but little heed 

 to the desperate efforts on the part of 

 the owners of the property which they 

 are destroying, tO' keep them off, or 

 exterminate them ; neither of which is 

 accomplished. As the yearly loss from 

 these autumnal visitors amounts to about 

 a couple of million of dollars, the enmity 

 is little to be wondered at ; but viewed 

 from the birds' standpoint, they are 

 hardly deserving the severe condemna- 

 tion that is meted out to them for their 

 depredations in the rice fields. 



Their chosen winter home is more 

 upon the western islands than upon the 

 continent, and to reach it in their jour- 



ney from their summer resort they must 

 pass directly over the rice fields of the 

 south. 



As their migration brings them there 

 at the time of gathering the crop, who 

 can wonder that the little feathered trav- 

 elers yield to the temptation to take an 

 active part in the harvesting, or that 

 they prolong their stay, growing fat, 

 sluggish and almost indifferent to con- 

 sequences before they realize that their 

 journey is not ended? Those of them 

 who escape death move onward leaving 

 many a rice field so thoroughly gleaned 

 that little remains for the owner. 



We next hear of them in Jamaica, 

 playing the gormand on the seed of the 

 sorghum and growing so fat that they 

 are known as Butter Birds. Here among 

 the islands in the region of the tropics 

 we will leave them to meditate over the 

 experiences of the past and those yet to 

 come. 



MiNOT Gaylor Jenison. 



LEAVES FROM A BOBOLINK'S DIARY, 



April 25. — Florida again after our 

 long winter so far away. 



We are resting here for a few days, 

 having traveled both night and day, over 

 land and sea, from our home be3^ond the 

 Amazon. There are nearly three hun- 

 dred of us, gay, young fellows that we 

 are, and we sing for joy all day long. 

 Why should we not ? Spring is here, and 

 we are going north, to wait for the com- 

 ing of our mates, in those beautiful soft 

 green meadows, among the long grasses 

 where we shall build our nests. They 

 are three or four days behind us, 

 those dear, demure little brown 

 beauties, so we shall get there first 

 to welcome them. We all have our new 

 spring suits, and beautiful ones they are ; 

 surely we shall be irresistible, with our 

 fine clothes, and our voices in such good 



tune. I laugh when I think of some- 

 thing I heard some of those great human 

 giants say last summer. I was perched 

 high up in a great elm tree, looking out 

 far away toward the north, to the hills 

 so blue and beautiful in the distance, and 

 over the near hills, covered with their 

 grand old trees, and separated by the 

 river whose winding course is marked 

 by that dark unbroken line of pines. I 

 had a fine place where no one could see 

 me, and even if they could have caught 

 a glimpse of me, I was safe from recog- 

 nition in my fall coat of brown. I heard 

 voices, and peeping down saw two giants, 

 a man and a maid, approaching ; the man 

 carrying a book. It is said that ''listeners 

 never hear any good of themselves," but 

 I can assure you that that is untrue. I 

 could not help hearing their conversation. 



