RAMBLES OF A BIRD LOVER 
“How plain and height 
With dewdrops are bright! 
How pearls have crowned 
The plants all around! 
How sighs the breeze 
Through thicket and trees ! ‘ 
How loudly in the sun’s clear rays 
The sweet birds carol forth their lays!” 
/ / 
Goethe 
N 
OT far from the confines of Dayton, Ohio, about 
a twenty-minute ride from the town, is one of 
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the most natural bird regions of the country. The 
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place is an ideal one for the birds. The northern bound¬ 
ary of this spot is formed by a series of small hills thickly 
wooded and covered by a very heavy undergrowth. To the 
south and east run rolling meadows and cornfields, while the 
west side is bordered by a river, the haunt of many shore and 
wading birds. 
One bright, balmy morning in early June, I betook myself 
to this ornithologist’s paradise. As I entered the glen, as it 
can be called, a rich chorus of bird music filled the air. Through 
the almost undistinguishable medley I made out the notes of the 
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