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THE CANADIAN SPORTSMAN AND NATURALIST. 



been so entirely unsatisfactory. The simple 

 fact is, he should not he called either — because 

 he is not either. The controversy has had 

 just as much point as would a discussion of 

 the question as to whether man should be 

 called an ape or a baboon. He should not be 

 called either, because he is neither. 



Then what shall we call our Ortyx? The 

 term Bob White has been proposed for him, 

 and is occasionally used, but it is not euphon- 

 ious, and does not seem to meet with favor. 

 Although it is not inappropriate as applied to 

 him, it will not suit his cousins. It would be 

 manifestly improper to say California Bob 

 White, the Mountain Bob White, etc. Their 

 voices would belie the name. But the name 

 recommended by your committee last year is 

 not liable to any of these objections. It is 

 euj)honious, it is short, easily written and 

 easily spoken, is appropriate to all our Ameri- 

 can birds, of what has been called the quail 

 genus. It sounds well, and is appropriate to 

 say the Virginia colin, the California colin, 

 the Mountain colin, the Massena colin, etc. 

 Then again the name Colin has the right of 

 priority. It was used in probably the earliest 

 description of our bird. It is given in both 

 Webster's and Worcester's unabridged diction- 

 aries as the name of our bird. Also in Cham- 

 ber's Encyclopedia, and in Henry Thornton 

 Wharton's List of British Birds, which is 

 authoritative, we find Ortyx Virginianus — 

 Virginia colin ; " also in Col. Montague's Orn- 

 ithological Dictionary. It seems quite impor- 

 tant that undisputed names should be adopted 

 for all our game, so that when they are 

 named in our laws there will be no ambiguity 

 about the meaning of those laws. We there- 

 fore respectfully recommend the adoption of 

 Colin as the vernacular or common name of 

 Ortyx Virginianas. 



Marked * Ontario f Quebec J Quebec and Ontario. 



Correspcmbence. 



ROBINS AGAIN. 

 To the Editor of The Canadian Sportsman and 

 Naturalist : — 



Mr. Editor. — In your last issue, I was sur- 

 prised at the comments of the Rev. Mr. dem- 

 enti, and am sorry to see such ignorance ex- 

 hibited by him, and " Hammerless Greener." 

 The best answer to give these gentlemen, is 

 that I allow their letters to be their own con- 

 demnation. You justly observe that there is 

 no specific connection between the English 



Robin red-breast and the American Fieldfare, 

 or Migratory Thrush, which last had been 

 erroneously nick-named " robin," by the Pil- 

 grim Fathers more for a joke than a reality. 

 The English red-breast is not much larger than 

 a Titmouse (Parus atricappilus) theformer hav- 

 ing longer legs, and it is of an olive green on the 

 back, with a brick red breast, and its eye is 

 black, with a beautiful soft and gentle expres- 

 sion, that has a charm in itself. Tbere is no 

 " blood color" about it. ' The American Field- 

 fare arrives in Canada as the snow melts, and 

 at this date, 1st Oct., they are migrating south. 

 I have read many traditions, concocted by pious 

 frauds, but until otherwise satisfactorily de- 

 monstrated, I shall consider the miracle of 

 " picking thorns" emanating from the brain 

 of Mr. Clementi. The American Fieldfare is 

 not " God's bird," and has nothing to do with it. 

 It would indeed be the height of cruelty, or 

 more properly inhumanity, deliberately to shoot 

 an English robin, which, in gentle confidence, 

 hops around the door steps alike of rich and 

 poor. When a boy, in Europe, my father and 

 uncle always took me and my brother in 

 Christmas week, to shoot Blackbirds, Field- 

 fare, Larks and such small game, to make a 

 large pie for New Year's day. Now, as a 

 recollection of past days, let me say, that this 

 pie was baked in a huge round dish, twenty 

 inches across the bottom and eight or nine 

 deep. At the bottom was placed a hare or pair 

 of rabbits, then, four pheasants, and four par- 

 tridges and the rest of the space filled in with 

 small birds. With boyish pride, we recounted 

 how many splendid shots we had made at sit- 

 ting birds ; that such a Blackbird was killed 

 at 50 or 60 yards, and so on. But Fieldfares 

 and Larks were our staple game. Then, all 

 the young folks of the neighbouring gentry 

 were invited for the New Year's pie, and I 

 assure you, it was discussed as little ladies and 

 gentlemen, of from eight to fourteen could, and 

 we did it justice. I will never forget that on 

 one occasion I fired at a flock of sparrows and 

 other small birds, in the barn yard, and killed 

 about a dozen. My uncle helped me to pick 

 up the wounded, and found a red-breast I had 

 unfortunately killed with the rest. He would 

 accept no excuse for such a crime. No use 

 pleading, I did not see it, or I would not have 

 fired. The poor robin was killed. That was 

 enough. I got my ears well cuffed, and was 

 sent to the library for the rest of the day, for 

 my careless conduct, and he ordered me to 

 learn the first ten lines of Sallust by rote, 

 beginning with " Omnes Animalia" and I had 



