THE ATLANTIC SLOPE NATURALIST. 



49 



has sprung a new one : ' ' How do you 

 catch 'em?" 



The editor of The Condor has re- 

 ferred to my type of the Mendocius 

 song sparrow as "an extremely worn, 

 faded and generally disreputable look- 

 ing female. ' ' Granted, Mr. Fisher, 

 Dut please do not say that I made an 

 unfortunate choice. The few speci- 

 mens I have were collected about West- 

 port and Cleone, late in May or June, 

 and fresh plumaged birds were not to 

 be found. At the time I puzzled over 

 these birds and sent some to Washing- 

 ton. They were returned marked 

 samuelis. I long intended going into 

 the same country again to look for this 

 bird but never had time. The type 

 was the best skin I had — therefore, 

 Hobson's choice, not mine. 



In so remote a place as Masbate I 

 thought one might be safe from the 

 voice of the anti-bird skinner, but see 

 here what I found in the Daily 

 Local News, of West Chester, Pa. 



' ' Dr. Schmucker gave a talk on birds 

 to the patients of the Chester County 

 Insane Hospital on Sunday last. It 

 was a plain, simple discourse that 

 held their attention throughout, and a 

 gave an appreciative listener an excel- 

 lent opportunity to distinguish the old 

 nature study and the new. 



When the writer was a boy the chief 

 impulses moving those who took an 

 interest in such matters were collec- 

 tion and classification. Here and there 

 a gentle voice was raised for observa- 

 tion, but it was scarcely heard amid 

 the banging of guns and the clatter of 

 drill and blowpipe. 



There is as much difference between 

 then and now as between the Old Test- 

 ament and the New. The dominant 

 note of one is slaughter, of the other 

 sympathy. The collector is giving 

 way to the observer, the gun to the 

 camera, and we who teach, or if you 

 please, preach, the nature study of to- 

 day, do it less for the knowledge to be 

 gained by its devotees than for the 



spiritual enrichment that comes of 

 sympathetic observation. ' ' 



Among the many and confusing spe- 

 cies of Philippine birds it is a pleasure 

 to meet a few with which we feel at 

 home. The island crow is one of 

 these, and his habits mark him as of 

 the family. No matter what the bird 

 men say about his name, he is just 

 ' ' crow. ' ' Nearly every other bird is 

 against him, the bulbuls taking espec- 

 ial delight in pestering him — there 

 are no kingbirds here. He has an eye 

 for garbage of any kind, and is by no 

 means above appropriating discarded 

 rat bodies. He hangs about the house 

 waiting for a chance to rob the domes- 

 tic pigeon or to carry off a young 

 chicken, which he does with as great 

 skill as any hawk that ever worried 

 Otto Emerson. I have repeatedly seen 

 crows try to rob the slow going and in- 

 dustrious red-breasted fish hawk. In 

 fact, the Philippine crow is so mucli 

 like the black fellows at home that 

 his very crimes are a constant delight. 



The following contribution to orni- 

 thology, from the Japan Times is 

 not without interest. I see they have 

 the bird a "bulbut. " meaning un- 

 doubtedly, ' ' bulbul, ' ' a name applied 

 to several Eastern genera. In this case 

 probably a species of Hypsepetes is in- 

 tended, which is abundant in Japan. 

 It is a gray, thrush-like bird about ten 

 inches long. Here is the story: 



"A tradition handed down from 

 time immemorial has it that in Japan 

 the worst enemy of the snake family 

 is the common land slug, an unseen 

 something exhaled by the slimy little 

 object being a deadly poison to the 

 crawler tribe. But it remained for a 

 pair of brown-eared bulbuts to prove 

 the truth of the popular belief, if a 

 story the "Kobe Yusliin" report is 

 true. That journal says that recently 

 a couple of these birds were seen care- 

 fully rearing their two young ones in 

 a nest which they had constructed on 



