to eat the seeds of the berries. They appeared and disappeared with their companions. 

 Whenever I had an opportunity to watch these beautiful Grosbeaks, they did not appear 

 smooth, but the plumage looked rather puffed up, which was probably due to the 

 intense cold. I saw them only three days, and then the Waxwings came again alone 

 until March, when all the berries were consumed. They descended even to the ground 

 to pick up those berries which had fallen down." 



These words form a part of a letter which my friend, Miss Hedwig Schlichting, 

 a resident of Milwaukee, Wis., wrote to me in April, 1887, when I still resided in the 

 south-western part of Missouri. She further stated that these beautiful birds had been 

 frequently seen in that locality, and that a flock of fourteen were observed by het near 

 the city. At the same time the birds were observed in large numbers in Lincoln Park, 

 of Chicago. 



This sketch of the life history of the Evening Grosbeak would be incomplete, 

 should I neglect to quote freely from an article written by our great naturalist. 

 Dr. Elliott Coues (Bulletin of the Nutt. Ornithological Club. Vol. IV, 1879, p. 65—75): 



"A bird of the most distinguished appearance, indeed, is the Evening Grosbeak, 

 whose very name of the 'Vesper-voiced' suggests at once the far-aw^ay land of the 

 dipping sun, and the tuneful romance w^hich the wild bird throws around the fading 

 Ught of day. Clothed in the most striking color-contrasts of black, white, and gold, he 

 seems to represent the allegory of diurnal transmutations; for his sable pinions close 

 around the brightness of his vesture, just as the night encompasses the golden hues of 

 the sunset; while the clear white space enfolded in these tints foretells the dawn of the 

 morrows. 



"Once seen, the Evemng Grosbeak will not likely be forgotten, even though we only 

 glance at what was once a brilHant denizen of the maple groves, and is now but a 

 bunch of feathers stuffed with tow ; for there is no bird of our country that in the least 

 resembles this striking likeness of a sunset. They say he has a near relative in the 

 land of Montezuma, but he is otherwise quite an isolated magnificence, his closest kin- 

 ship being with the Hawfinch of Europe {Coccotbraustes vulgaris), whom he resembles 

 in his stature and proportions, though not at all in coloration. Nor has he the curious 

 construction of the wing-feathers that the typical Hawfinch displays, these quills being 

 as simple in form as they are in any other member of the extensive family of the 

 Finches. No very distant relatives among our Fringillidas are such species as the Blue, 

 the Cardinal, the Rose-breasted, and other Grosbeaks, as well as those, like the Pine, with 

 which we have grown accustomed to see him associated in our books and catalogues. 



"He is rather a late aspirant to the questionable honors of our literature, having 

 remained unknown to fame all through the Wilsonian period, and until brought to our 

 notice by Mr. William Cooper, whose letter of introduction, originally published in the 

 'Annals of the New York Lyceum of Natural History,' was soon extensively copied by 

 the editors of other periodicals. The bird thus speedily became known to ornithologists 

 of all parts of the world. The actual discovery of so welcome an addition to our recog- 

 nized Fauna was made by Mr. Schoolcraft, who secured the original example of the 

 species in April of the year 1823, at or near the Saulte Sainte Marie, Michigan. This 

 individual, upon its presentation to the Lyceum just named, became the basis of Mr. 



