PIPING PLOVER. 
AVE you ever been to the sea-shore? Then, of 
course, you have met the Piping Plover, but, per- 
haps, not to know him. He is of the size of the robin, not 
quite so robust, but stands much taller, being mounted on 
rather long, stilt-like legs, which admirably fit him for the 
life which he is designed to fill in the world. He belongs to 
the family of wading birds, and seeks the principal part of 
his food in or by the water, which could not possibly be were 
his walking appendages curtailed the least bit of their fair 
proportions. But to be more precise in my word-picture, 
let me describe him to you as of a pale ashy-brown color, 
fading into grayish upon the under parts, and as having his 
head set off with some narrow black bands, that on the neck 
rarely, if ever, forming a perfect ring. His bill will be found 
to be short and stout and blunt, and there will be an appre- 
ciable lack of webbing between the middle and inner front 
toes. 
Now that it is plain what the bird looks like, you are cer- 
tainly prepared, more than ever, to take some interest in him 
in his brief stay by the sea. So strongly is he attached to 
the scenes rendered dear by past associations and memories 
that, from his winter home in the sunny South, and even from 
over the waters beyond our southern borders, he hails with 
delight the return of the vernal equinox, for he knows full 
well that it brings with it the summer’s heat and all its varied, 
priceless wealth of insect life. 
So with the first spring signs of open weather he quits his 
brumal retreat, winds his way up along the trend of the 
