Dente oe Uae ON BU lle he Lan 15 
levels and spring pools came the flocks of splendid golden plover. Mazed 
by their number and beauty I shot when they were, to all seeming, out of 
range, and brought down one. The following flock stooped to the wounded 
bird and then were away. 
Were I an Indian I’m sure I should hope that the Happy Hunting 
Grounds would be as the region of the Iroquois and the Kankakee appeared 
to me in that vibrant spring of more than fifty years ago. 
mec a et 
Parade of May 
The woodpecker in cap of red 
Is like a drummer gay; 
He’s busy in the maple tree; 
Hear how he taps away. 
For yellow jonquils on parade 
And tulips row on row, 
The lilacs wave their purple plumes 
With rhythm to and fro. 
The irises with flags of blue 
Seem ready to salute, 
As from the distance you can hear 
The martin’s magic flute. 
Shy violets peep from the ground 
And pansies look so gay; 
The birds sing as they build their nests: 
’Tis the parade of May. 
—AUDREY RAMONA EGGERS 
fl a seal 
Stories of Vicious Eagles 
WE WONDER whether the newspapers will ever stop printing articles about 
murderous eagles attacking young children, with all details of the killing of 
the assailant, pictures of its outstretched form draped on a fence, the 
likeness of the innocent intended victim, the brave rescuer and interested 
neighbors? 
Our latest example of this kind of tragedy occurred recently near the 
mouth of Four-mile Run, Virginia. Its story made the front page of the 
morning Washington Post, and found a less conspicuous place in the after- 
noon papers. In the morning it was a “ferocious eagle,” but by afternoon 
it had been toned down to a “big hawk.” In both cases the published photo- 
graph showed plainly that the unfortunate bird was a fish-hawk, or osprey. 
Its large size rather than its ferocity led to its death. 
In lower Virginia and in Maryland, where the osprey nests in numbers, 
its presence is welcomed, and the bird often responds by building its aerie 
