THE REFERENDUM 



89 



When a "daddy mossback" was caught, the 

 fish was carefully weighed and measured. 

 Then the tail was cut off and nicely trimmed 

 with the scissors, when it was stretched on 

 a board to dry. When dry, it was given a 

 coat or two of alcohol shellac. Then it was 

 glued at the top of the sheet. Below it was 

 entered the name, size, weight, date, and 

 place where caught, besides remarks as to 

 bait, and length of the struggle, and other 

 items of interest. 



We 11 tell no lies, 

 We'll fish the brook; 

 And when they doubt 

 We'll bring the book. 



Charles Herbert, Ann Arbor, Mich. 



This is an excellent idea, but the tail 

 shrinks while drying and hence a careful 

 outline of it should be traced for record 

 while the fish is fresh. — Editor. 



MOTHER LOVE OF THE LOON. 



Editor Recreation : 



Once and only once, I caught a young 

 Northern diver. It was in July in the Lau- 

 rentians in a little lake far back in the forest- 

 covered hills — loons always nest on small isl- 

 ands in lakes, never where foxes can get at 

 the eggs or young. The birds at first are 

 coal black. The one I took was the size of 

 a pigeon, and it took me twenty minutes to 

 get it. When pursued the little fellows make 

 for the open deep water, never skulk among 

 the weeds, and rely entirely upon their won- 

 derful diving powers. You can only catch 

 them when they are very young and on a 

 perfectly calm day when you can see them 

 the instant they come up. 



I followed the bird up so quickly that I 

 was always near when it rose and by shout- 

 ing and brandishing the paddle, frightened 

 it into diving before it had regained its wind. 

 At length, it could not dive more than a foot 

 or two below the surface, and then I caught 

 it in my hand. It was savage and seasick in 

 the canoe. The mother kept near it from 

 first to last, swam round the canoe calling 

 most plaintively the while, the note being 

 Whe-ou-ou-ou ; quite distinct from the usual 

 mocking laugh Ha-ha-ha-ha ! Ha-ha-hama ! 

 I paddled the little loon about half a mile 

 and then put it overboard very gently. The 

 mother led it off in triumph. The full clutch 

 of a loon is two eggs. In this case one chick 

 must have come to grief. While they 

 are very young the mother carries them 

 around on her broad back. The bird makes 

 a charming picture with her two downy nest- 

 lings cuddled on her. If suddenly frightened 

 she dives instantly, and the young float as 

 lightly as corks. Loons are very inquisitive, 

 and may be tolled easily with a bright red 

 rag. 



The male bird generally leaves the small 



forest-sheltered lake each morning, return 

 ing just before dusk. They fly high and 

 very fast. I think they take back fish to feed 

 the young, and, perhaps, the mother. I once 

 shot a young loon in August before it could 

 fly, though it could dive very fast. It 

 weighed six pounds, and had a pike-perch 

 weighing twenty-four ounces in its gullet. 

 The young loon remain North quite late, as 

 they cannot fly until mid-October. 



Graham West, Windsor, Canada. 



THE WOODCOCK'S DRILL. 



Editor Recreation : 



A few years ago while walking in the foot- 

 hills of the White mountains in central New 

 Hampshire, I came upon a hemlock trte 

 about twelve inches in diameter, which had 

 been completely ruined by the work of the 

 pileated woodpecker. The wood of the tree 

 was apparently sound, but the bird had 

 drilled seven holes into the trunk to a dis- 

 tance of five or six inches, to the dark heart 

 wood of the tree. The outline of the open- 

 ing was elliptical, from seven to nine inches 

 long, and from three to six inches wide and 

 slightly tapering. The size of some of the 

 chips taken out in the work was astonishing, 

 the largest ones being three inches long and 

 three-fourths to one inch in width. My com- 

 panion told me in all earnestness, that this 

 was the work of the woodcock. I do not un- 

 derstand how a person can be so ignorant of 

 some of the simplest things in nature. Just 

 think of a woodcock with its long tapering 

 bill and sensitive point, hewing out such 

 holes in the solid wood. Yet, thousands of 

 people go on year after year making just such 

 silly blunders, when a little reading and ob- 

 serving would open their eyes and make 

 the world seem like a new place. That 

 which before was nothing but a barren pas- 

 ture and scrubby stump lot, would now be- 

 come a place where a hundred secrets would 

 lurk, every one of which would be of in- 

 tense interest. 



Nelson A. Jackson, Kenka Park, N. Y. 



Mr. Jackson is right about it being the 

 work of the pileated woodpecker, but his 

 companion is also right. This magnificent 

 woodpecker is known to all the old guard of 

 woodsmen as the woodcock, while the real 

 woodcock is called by the same woodsmen, 

 mudsnipe, blind whistling snipe, and bog 

 sucker. — Editor. 



AN OBJECT LESSON. 



A teacher is a paradoxical term. In the 

 nature of things no one can teach us, we 

 must learn of our own free will. Teachers 

 are but sign posts pointing the way. It is 

 our object to make of Recreation a big sign 

 post. At the same time it must be remem- 

 bered that one might line the bottom of the 



