1892.] 
of this fact tliat if he slioots a rare 
migrant in a certain sjiot he makes it a 
rule to visit the place again a year af¬ 
terward on the same day, and, if possi¬ 
ble, at the same hour of the day. An¬ 
other friend sends me a very pretty story 
hearing upon the same point. The hird 
of which he speaks, Wilson’s hlack-caj) 
warhler, is one of the less common of 
our regular JMassachnsetts migrants. I 
count myself fortunate if I see two or 
three specimens during its spring or au¬ 
tumn passage. My correspondent shall 
tell the story for himself: —■ 
“While I was makino- the drawino's 
r> o 
for the Silva, at the old Dwight house, 
T was in tlie hahit of taking a turn 
every pleasant day in the gardens, after 
my scanty lunch. On the 18th of May, 
1887, in my daily round I saw a Wil¬ 
son’s hlack-cap for the first time in my 
life. He was in a hush of spiraea me¬ 
dia, which grew in the midst of the 
rockery, and allowed me to examine 
him at near range with no ajipearance 
of fear. Naturally I made a note of 
the occurrence in my diary, and talked 
about it with my family when I got 
home. The seeing of a new hird al¬ 
ways makes a red-letter day. 
“Tlie next spring, as I was looking 
over my notebook of the previous year, 
I came upon my entry of May 18, 
and thought I would he on the lookout 
for a hla(;k-cap on that date. Several 
times during the morning I thought of 
the matter, and after my hmcli I saun¬ 
tered into the rockery, just as I had 
done the year before. Imagine my 
start when tliere, in the very same bush, 
was the l)lack-ca]) peering at me; and 
I found, on looking at my watch, tliat 
it was i)recisely tlie same hour, — ^half 
past one! 1 rubbed my eyes and 
pinched myself to make sure it was 
not a dream. No, it was all real. Of 
course I thought tlie coincidence very 
singular, and talked about it, not only 
with my family, but also with other 
})eo])le. You must remember that 1 
had never seen the bird elsewhere. 
— NO. 418. 13 
193 
“Well, another s])ilng came round. 
The 18 th of May was fixed in my mind, 
and 1 thought many times of my black¬ 
cap (I called it imj black-cai) now), and 
Avondered if it would keep tryst again. 
On the morning of the 18 th, the first 
thing 1 thought of when I awoke was 
my black-caj). 'riiat forenoon 1 actu- * 
ally felt nervous as the time a])proached, 
for 1 felt a sort of certainty (you smile) 
that I should see my bird again. My 
lunch was hastier than usual, and I Avas 
about to sally forth Avhen it flashed 
across me, ‘Su])pose the bird should be 
there again, Avho Avould believe my 
story? Hold! 1 Avill have a Avitness.’ 
I called to Mr. J-, avIio Avas at Avork 
upstairs, and, after explaining Avhat I 
Avanted, invited him to accom])any me. 
W e cautiously entered the rockery, and 
Avithin a feAV minutes there flitted from 
a neighboring thicket into that A^ery 
spirpea bush my black-cap! I took out 
my Avatch. It Avas just half })ast one ! ” 
My OAvn ex])eriences in this kind 
have been much less striking and dra¬ 
matic than the foregoing, but I may 
add that a feAV years ago I Avitnessed 
the vernal migration in a neAv piece of 
country — ten miles or so from my old 
field — and found myself at a very con¬ 
siderable disadvantage. I had never 
realized till then hoAV imtch accustomed 
I had groAvn to look for particular birds 
in particular places, and not in other 
pla(*,es of a quite similar character. 
I speak of Avitnessing a migration; 
but AAliat Ave see for the most jiart (ducks 
and geese being exce})ted) is not the ac¬ 
tual movement nortlnvard or soutlnvard. 
We see the stragglers, more or less 
numerous, that happen ty have dro])ped 
out of the procession in our immediate 
neighborhood, — a flock of sand])i])ers 
about the edge of the pond, some spar- 
roAVS by the roadside, a beAW of Avar- 
blers in the Avood, — and from these 
signs Ave infer tlie ])assing of the host. 
Unlike savuHoavs, robins, bluebirds, 
blackbirds, and ])erhaps moyt of the 
sparrows, our smaller AAmod birds, the 
The Pa^HUKj of the Birds. 
VOL. LXX. 
