erie teene es BON Bi UL wr aN 17 
I ventured lamely. Were the legs nice and long? They were not. Was it 
a duck? Definitely NOT the bill of a duck. What were the feet like? They 
really didn’t see. Mrs. Huber was holding them. In the big library we 
combed the bird guides, from Peterson to Louis Aggasiz Fuertes’ BIRDS 
OF AMERICA, even giving Chester Reed a chance. “I think,” said Dr. 
Brookes, tilting her head diagnostically, “that it was a Clapper Rail. You 
see, the gray is the right color and the bird about the right shape, and 
there’s nothing else in any of these books. —’” Then we read that the 
Clapper Rail inhabits salt marshes, and we were at a loss again. “If I could 
just see the picture,” I said at last. “When will the photographs come?” — 
“Probably five days.” 
We haunted the highway mailbox that said Hessler-Brookes for ten 
days. The photographs finally arrived. Here were the syringa bush in 
record towering bloom, the late peonies, Green Bay breakers beneath (Land’s 
End cliffs, and raccoons among the yellow day lillies. Topping them all 
was an enormous merganser duck in Mrs. Huber’s arms, firegloves and 
all. I nearly shouted: “YOU had a merganser in your living room fire- 
place!” — “But it didn’t have a duck’s bill,” Dr. Brookes protested. ‘The 
merganser has a long, pointed, odd bill. This is my favorite duck and I 
missed it in the house by one day!’ I still had a mystery to solve. I felt 
this was the Red-breasted Merganser because of the faint suffusion of 
reddish brown on the breast, but since the neckline where reddish met 
white was so well defined, this would have to be the American. The 
American is chiefly a fresh-water species, while the Red-breasted is 
characteristic of the ocean. Again we pored over Peterson and five pounds 
of BIRDS OF AMERICA. This could not be the male of either species. 
Murl Deusing of the Ridges Sancutary pin-pointed our identification: 
“While both species are found here, it’s probably a female American 
Merganser,” he smiled. “The American nesis in hollow trees, while the 
Red-breasted nests only on the ground.” This unexpected guest must have 
mistaken Dr. Brooke’s chimney for a hollow tree, and was about to inspect 
the splendid cavity, when she fell two stories into the andirons. Because 
of the recent drouth, there had been no fire for two weeks, or this ashy 
gray bird might have tumbled through the damper onto hot ashes to become 
roast duck. 
179 Villa Ave., Apartment 4, Addison, Illinois 
ft Bai ft ft 
ADVICE TO A HUNGRY HUMMINGBIRD 
These apricot blossoms 
Are tempting, | know, 
And to you, ruby-throat, 
They are doubly so. 
But if | were you 
| would ask her leave, — 
For Miss Touch-me-not 
Has a trick up her sleeve. 
Emeline Ennis Kotula 
fi fi ff ft 
