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                           BIRDS AND NATURE.
                   ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.
  Vol. XII.                  DECEMBER, 1902.                     No. 5.




                               CONTENTS.


    DECEMBER.                                                        193
    THE HOODED ORIOLE. (_Icterus cucullatus_.)                       194
    THE ORIOLE’S MISSION.                                            197
    THE CLOTHES MOTH AND ITS METHODS.                                197
    INCIDENTS ABOUT BIRDS.                                           198
    THE CHUCK-WILL’S-WIDOW. (_Antrostomus carolinensis_.)            201
    AN AMATEUR CIRCUS. A True Story.                                 202
    THE GRAY-CROWNED LEUCOSTICTE. (_Leucosticte tephrocotis_.)       204
    CORUNDUM AND SPINEL.                                             207
    THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW. (_Zonotrichia leucophrys_.)           213
    AFTER THE SNOW STORM.                                            214
    THE FEATHERED FISHERMAN.                                         215
    A WINTER-PIECE AMONG THE PENTLANDS.                              215
    THE CARNATION.                                                   216
    WINTER SONG.                                                     219
    BUDS OF PROMISE. COLD WEATHER NOTES FROM NATURE.                 220
    HOW A CAT SAVED THE LIFE OF A CANARY.                            222
    THE POCKET RATS.                                                 225
    WINTER VISITORS.                                                 226
    BEAUTIFUL VINES TO BE FOUND IN OUR WILD WOODS III.               227
    THE PERSIMMON. (_Diospyros virginiana_.)                         228
    AS TO ALLIGATORS.                                                231
    DANDELION. (_Taraxacum taraxacum_ Karst.)                        235
    FROM SPRING TO RIVULET.                                          236
    INDEX. Volume XII—June, 1902, to December, 1902, inclusive.      237




                               DECEMBER.


  When the feud of hot and cold
    Leaves the autumn woodlands bare;
  When the year is getting old,
    And flowers are dead, and keen the air;

  When the crow has new concern,
    And early sounds his raucous note;
  And—where the late witch-hazels burn—
    The squirrel from a chuckling throat

  Tells that one larder’s space is filled,
    And tilts upon a towering tree;
  And, valiant, quick, and keenly thrilled,
    Upstarts the tiny chickadee;

  When the sun’s still shortening arc
    Too soon night’s shadows dun and gray
  Brings on, and fields are drear and dark,
    And summer birds have flown away,—

  I feel the year’s slow-beating heart,
    The sky’s chill prophecy I know;
  And welcome the consummate art
    Which weaves this spotless shroud of snow!
                                     —Joel Benton, in “Songs of Nature.”




                           THE HOODED ORIOLE.
                        (_Icterus cucullatus._)


Only a very limited portion of the United States is beautified by the
presence of the bright colored Hooded Oriole. The North has the richly
plumaged Baltimore oriole for a short time each year, but only the far
southeastern part of Texas is enlivened by this graceful, active bird of
our illustration, which is “so full of song that the woods are filled
with music all the day.” Both of these birds seem hardly to belong to
the North, where somber colors seem more in harmony with a severer
climate. The Hooded Oriole does not attempt the journey and when we see
the Baltimore,

  “A winged flame that darts and burns,
  Dazzling where’er his bright wing turns,”

in our northern woods we cannot but ask, with the poet,

  “How falls it, Oriole, thou hast come to fly
  In tropic splendor through our northern sky?
  At some glad moment was it Nature’s choice
  To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?”

The Hooded Oriole has a very narrow range, reaching from Texas southward
through eastern Mexico to Honduras, and during our northern winters it
has the Baltimore as an associate. It is a social bird and frequents the
home of man. One writer relating his experience with this Oriole says:
“They were continually appearing about the thatched roof of our houses
and the arbors adjoining for insects; they were more familiar than any
of the other Orioles about the ranch.”

It not only delights man by its song and beautiful coloring, but its
presence is also beneficial, for it destroys countless adult insects and
their larvæ.

The Hooded Oriole seldom builds its nest higher than from six to twelve
feet above the ground, though in a few instances it has been found as
high as thirty feet. Dr. James C. Merrill, in his Notes on the
Ornithology of Texas, says, “The nests of this bird found here are
perfectly characteristic, and cannot be confounded with those of any
allied species. They are usually found in one of the two following
situations: The first and most frequent is in a bunch of hanging moss,
usually at no great height from the ground; when so placed the nests are
formed almost entirely by hollowing out and matting the moss, with a few
filaments of a dark, hairlike moss as a lining. The second situation is
in a bush growing to a height of about six feet, a nearly bare stem,
throwing out two or three irregular masses of leaves at the top. These
bunches of dark green leaves conceal the nest admirably. It is
constructed of filaments of the hair-like mass just referred to, with a
little Spanish moss, wool, or a few feathers for the lining. They are
rather wide and shallow for orioles’ nests, and though strong they
appear thin and delicate.” Not infrequently the Hooded Oriole builds its
nest in plants called the Spanish bayonet or yucca. In such a situation
the walls are constructed almost entirely of the fibers of the plant
torn from dried leaves. These fibers are tough and the nest walls are
much more durable than when made with moss. Wool or vegetable down may
be used as a lining, but it is not uncommon to find no lining. The
Hooded Oriole is not free from the intrusion of feathered rascals. Major
Bendire says that it “is considerably imposed upon by both the red-eyed
and the dwarf cow-birds, and in a few instances parasitic eggs of both
species are found in the same nest.”

                     [Illustration: HOODED ORIOLE.
                         (Icterus cucullatus).
                              ⅔ Life-size.
                    FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.]




                         THE ORIOLE’S MISSION.


  Sweet little bird on yonder tree,
  Fly to the town with song of glee
  And comfort there some lonely soul,
  Thou sweetest, dearest oriole!

  Perch on an open window sill,
  And then pour forth thy mellowest trill.
  What griefs thy carol will console,
  Thou sweetest, dearest oriole!

  A tale of hope to each sad heart
  Thy notes of love will soon impart;
  And in their memory will roll
  The sweet strain of the oriole.
                                                    —Christine B. Moray.




                   THE CLOTHES MOTH AND ITS METHODS.


Though it has incurred the bitter condemnation of all housewives, the
clothes moth is quite an interesting little body from the naturalist’s
point of view. The species known in the United States bears the long
name Pellionella. Its larva constructs a case for its occupancy. The
moths themselves are very small and well fitted for making their way
through minute holes and chinks. The mother insect deposits her eggs in
or near such material as will be best adapted for food for the young.
Further, she distributes them so that there may be a plentiful supply
and enough room for each.

When one of the scattered family issues from the egg its first care is
to provide itself with a home, or more correctly speaking, a dress.
Having decided upon a proper site it cuts out a filament of cloth and
places it on a line with its body. Another is cut and placed parallel
with the first. The two are then bound together by a few threads of silk
from the caterpillar’s own body. The same process is repeated with other
hairs until the little creature has made a fabric of some thickness.
This it extends until it is large enough to cover its whole body. It
chooses the longer threads for the outside and finishes the inner side
by a closely woven tapestry of silk. The dress being complete, the larva
begins to feed on the material of the cloth.

When it outgrows its clothes, which happens in the course of time, it
proceeds to enlarge them. With the dexterity of a tailor it slits the
coat, or case, on the two opposite sides, and inserts two pieces of the
requisite size. All this is managed without the least exposure of its
body. Neither side being slit all at once. Concealed in its movable silk
lined roll it spends the summer plying its sharp reaping hooks amid the
harvest of tapestry.

In the fall it ceases to eat, fixes its habitation, and lies torpid
during the winter. With the early spring it changes to a chrysalis
within its case, and in about twenty days thereafter it emerges as a
winged moth, which flies about in the evening until it has found a mate
and is ready to lay eggs.

                                                         Louise Jamison.




                         INCIDENTS ABOUT BIRDS.


There is much to be learned about the habits of birds, even in a casual
observation of them as we meet them from time to time.

It is well known that the English sparrow is not friendly toward other
birds, often driving them from their nests and even going so far as to
destroy both these and their young.

Upon one occasion a sparrow took possession of the partially completed
nest of a pair of martins, in process of construction, beneath the eaves
of a farmhouse. When the martins returned with their load of mud for its
walls, the sparrow, intrenched within, drove them away with scolding
cries and fluttering wings, resisting all their attempts at dislodging
him. Time after time the attack was renewed, all to no avail. There he
was and there he proposed to remain.

But the plucky martins were not so easily vanquished. They retired for a
season, only to renew the attack with increased vigor, waging a battle
long and fierce. Finally, however, they seemed to understand that their
enemy had the better of them, and bent their energies toward vengeance.
Carrying mud in their beaks, they built a wall about the sparrow as he
sat in possession of their home, surrounding him so completely that he
was made a prisoner in the very place where he had taken forcible
possession. And there they left him to his fate.

A pair of robins selected a nesting place in the fork of a maple,
standing quite near a house, the chamber windows of which looked down
directly into it. No sooner had they begun to carry sticks for the
foundation, than a pair of crow black birds, with malicious intent,
pounced upon it and scattered the sticks in every direction, taking
advantage of the absence of the owners of the nest to carry out their
mischief. Time after time did the robins repair the damage and begin
afresh their work of construction. No sooner were they out of sight than
the black birds tore the material out of the tree, seemingly working in
great haste to complete their depredation before the robins’ return.

Stormy encounters, amounting to pitched battles sometimes, ensued when
the marauders were caught by the irate home makers in the very act of
tearing to fragments the work they were toiling so painfully to
complete. Not one day only, but several elapsed, and still the battle
continued, the interested spectators though sympathetic were powerless
to help the rightful owners of the home. The black birds seemingly did
not want the nest for themselves. They merely objected to the robins
building there. At last, to the great relief of the red-breasts, their
enemies gave up the fight and allowed them to build the nest. This they
did, laying their eggs and rearing their young without further
annoyance.

Many a fat angle worm does the robin get in the spring of the year,
pulling them out of the ground where the bright eyes spy them close to
the surface, or partly protruding therefrom. A full-grown robin has been
seen to thus capture and swallow a round dozen of earth worms inside of
ten minutes.

One day a fledgling was hopping across the lawn, the mother bird alert
and watchful, not far away. She had been feeding it, but evidently its
hunger had not yet been appeased, for it hopped to her side and began to
make the coaxing noise heard when in the nest as the parent approaches
with food. The mother bird paused a moment, looked about her, then
hopping to one side a short distance, she planted her feet squarely upon
the ground, caught one end of a worm in her beak and commenced to pull.
The worm, which was a large one, was not easily dislodged and tug as
hard as she could, she could not complete her capture. Evidently the
worm was too long. She fairly tipped over backward in her effort, yet
without avail. All at once, and as quick as a flash, so as to give it no
chance to get away, she let go her hold and seizing the worm farther
down, drew it triumphantly forth and gave it to her expectant offspring.

                                                         E. E. Rockwood.

                   [Illustration: CHUCK-WILL’S-WIDOW.
                      (Antrostomus carolinensis).
                              ⅗ Life-size.
                    FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.]




                        THE CHUCK-WILL’S-WIDOW.
                     (_Antrostomus carolinensis._)


In the wooded ravines and timbered swamps of the southern states, the
Chuck-will’s-widow tells of its presence by frequently calling its own
name. It, with the whip-poor-will and the night hawk, belongs to the
family of goatsuckers and is closely related to the swifts. The family
includes about eighty-five species of these peculiar birds, nearly all
being natives of the tropics, though nearly every part of the world has
representatives. The range of the Chuck-will’s-widow is quite limited.
It includes the states from Virginia and southern Illinois southward to
the Gulf of Mexico, and through Mexico into Central America. It is also
found in Cuba.

Chuck-will’s-widow is a bird of the twilight and night hours. Silent
during the daylight hours, its penetrating voice, which is remarkably
strong, may be continuously heard in the regions that it inhabits during
the evening hours and for a time preceding the returning light of day.
It is said that on a still evening its call may be heard for more than
one mile. In its large eyes and head, its loose and somber colored
plumage, its quiet flight and nocturnal habits it resembles the owls.
Its short bill and the shape of the wings, permitting rapid flight, give
it a close relationship to the swifts. Its mouth is peculiarly fitted
for the capture of insects. The gape is enormous, and when the mouth is
fully open, will measure nearly two inches from side to side. It is also
aided in ensnaring insects by the long, bristle-like whiskers at the
base of the mouth. It will catch and swallow the largest of the
night-flying moths, and though it seems almost incredible small birds
not infrequently form a part of its diet. An observer found in the
stomach of one “among an indistinguishable mass of brownish matter, a
small bone, about half an inch long.” In another stomach he found the
remains of a hummingbird only partially digested and well enough
preserved for him to identify the species. Dr. F. W. Langdon states that
he examined the stomach of a female Chuck-will’s-widow that “contained
the partially digested body, entire, of a swamp sparrow, intermingled
with the feathers of which were numerous remains of insects, chiefly
small beetles.”

While hunting for food the Chuck-will’s-widow flies low, often but a few
feet above the surface of the ground. In this habit it differs from the
night-hawk, which, like the swifts, seeks its food high in the air. Now
and then it rests, perching on old logs or fences, from which it will
launch forth in pursuit of prey which its keen eyes have sighted. During
the day it roosts in hollow trees or upon a large limb in some densely
shaded spot.

It does not attempt to build a nest. The two dull white eggs are laid
upon the ground or upon leaves in some secluded place in woods or
thickets. It is said that this bird, when disturbed at its nest, will
remove either its eggs or the young, as the case may be, to a place of
safety by carrying them in its mouth.

Mr. Audubon relates the following incident which came under his
observation: “When the Chuck-will’s-widow, either male or female (for
each sits alternately), has discovered that the eggs have been touched,
it ruffles its feathers and appears extremely dejected for a minute or
two, after which it emits a low, murmuring cry, scarcely audible to me
as I lay concealed at a distance not more than eighteen or twenty yards.
At this time I had seen the other parent reach the spot, flying so low
over the ground that I thought its little feet must have touched it as
it skimmed along, and after a few low notes and some gesticulations, all
indicative of great distress, take an egg in its large mouth, the other
bird doing the same, when they would fly off together, skimming closely
over the ground, until they disappeared among the branches and trees.”
Because of its night-flying habit, its somber colors and its peculiar
penetrating notes the Chuck-will’s-widow, as well as the whip-poor-will,
was considered by the Indians a bird of ill omen.




                           AN AMATEUR CIRCUS.
                             A True Story.


We were not like ordinary children—in fact as I look back on our younger
days it comes to me ever more strongly how very unlike we were. There
was Harvey, my older brother, who never did anything that other children
did and was always perpetrating some most extraordinary thing which
certainly no one else ever would have thought of. However, in spite of
this trait, or possibly in consequence of it, he afterwards became
famous. But that is neither here nor there—we were all what the
neighbors termed “unexpected,” if they were kindly disposed, otherwise
it was some word to the same effect though less mild.

It was always a great blessing to us and one which we received with
thankful hearts, that our father was a man of science, and his line of
work made him the recipient of a varied assortment of animals which he
would bring home alive and keep until he was ready to work upon them. It
was only natural that we children should become fond of these creatures
and beg that they might be spared the eternal sleep and left to us to
play with. This was often granted.

So it happened at one time that we were the proud possessors of
twenty-five different kinds of birds, animals and reptiles and the envy
of all the children for blocks around.

It is so long now since the time of which I write that I may not be able
to recall them all, but I give them as I remember them and by their
rank—for they had rank as well as names, the highest in intelligence
always going first—as they did at our funerals; for when any one of the
little colony died we would give it a burial in accordance with its
station in life.

First beside the grave would stand Rex, my beautiful dog, whose
knowledge was so great it seemed almost human; then would come “Daisy,”
Harvey’s little Mexican pony; then “Lorita,” the parrot, whose
intelligence was really remarkable; after her came “Jackie,” the monkey,
and so on down. The cat, the crow, with his one white tail feather; then
the smaller birds; two love-birds, a brown thrush, a blue jay and the
canary. Three baby foxes followed the birds and then came the squirrels,
gray, red, and flying squirrels; next to these stood the rabbits, a
dozen or more of all kinds and colors: Belgian hares, pure yellows,
angoras, whites and blacks, they came, a motley crew. The weasel and
muskrat were next, and now the reptiles were beginning; the turtles, a
hellbender and the snakes; black snakes, garter snakes, green snakes, a
puffing adder and last of all came two boa constrictors.

I have reserved a special place for my own dear, stupid, little hedge
hog, Billy. It used to grieve me to always see poor Billy straggling off
at the end of the animals—ahead of the reptiles, to be sure—a pathetic
little figure of stupidity, but Harvey insisted he deserved no better
place. Possibly it was because he seemed so lonely and despised by the
others, but at any rate, Billy was an especial pet of mine, and in order
to disprove Harvey’s statement that, “it was impossible to teach it
anything,” I spent much time and pains on Billy, and at last succeeded
in teaching him to utter a little grunt when I would scratch his back
and ask, “Want your supper, Billy?” But the thing that made me the
proudest was when he at last could go up stairs. It was nearly three
years before Billy could accomplish the entire flight, and even then it
was a long and weary pilgrimage; but the patience I had expended upon
him had not been in vain. It was comical to watch his efforts—the little
short forelegs trying to reach up to the next stair, where he knew a
lump of sugar would be his reward.

But I am digressing. One day father and mother having gone out of town
to a funeral, we children were left to ourselves. It was an opportunity
not to be neglected, and our brains were at work trying to plan some new
game, when Harvey arrived in our midst triumphantly waving a huge sheet
of paper—a “bill-poster” he called it—upon which, in large letters, were
the headlines, “Grand Circus,” and then followed an account of the
animals that would take part and the tricks they would perform. Harvey
assigned us our posts—he himself being ring-master, by right of his
seniority and having thought of the game. Alice was the “fat lady,”
while I, Paul, being the youngest, was nothing but a “feeder of animals”
and tent shifter.

Under the direction of the Circus Master we assembled the menagerie in
cages, or loose as the case might be, up in Mother’s bed-room. It took a
good deal of time to get them all together. Polly was of a roving
disposition and had to be coaxed down from the top of a tall tree, where
she had perched, a square or so away; the crow was up on the roof; the
rabbits and hares were scampering all over the garden—in fact, nothing
but the caged animals seemed to be at hand. But the task was finally
accomplished and all were ranged around the room waiting for Harvey, who
had disappeared mysteriously some little time before.

Suddenly there was a most terrific clatter and noise, coming ever nearer
and nearer. We looked at each other open-mouthed with surprise, when,
with a flourish of lariat and a wild Indian war-whoop, that rose above
the deafening noise, in dashed Harvey upon “Daisy,” a triumphant
figure—having accomplished the difficult feat of making the pony carry
him up stairs. He dismounted with a jump. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he
began, “the first act on the programme will be by this wonderful
horse—Daisy, down on your haunches!” The lariat swept the air in true
ring-master fashion, and Daisy obediently sat back on her haunches.

“Shake hands, Daisy.”

The hoof came up—but here Rex interfered. He realized the pony had no
business there and felt the responsibility which rested upon him. Good
dog that he was, he started toward her, barking sharply, as though to
say, “Go away—you know you have no business here.”

Then, as if his bark had been a signal, all the other animals lifted up
their voices, and for a while it was pandemonium let loose—screeches
from Polly, calls of “Mamma” from the crow (which it could say as
plainly as any parrot, though its tongue had never been slit), grunts
and squeals mingled in utter confusion. In the midst of it all who
should walk in but Uncle Charles.

Now, we all knew that Uncle was not disposed to pass over lightly even
the least of our offenses, and what he would say, and what was more, do
now, we dared not think. But Harvey was equal to the occasion. He knew
Uncle’s weak point, and went towards him nonchalantly swinging the
snakes who stuck out their heads as they swayed back and forth.

Now, to us children the snakes were just as nice and pretty as any of
the animals, but they were quite the opposite to Uncle Charles. The
great, writhing things, swaying to and fro as they twisted in Harvey’s
hands and stuck out their heads, in which the eyes dully gleamed, filled
him with loathing and disgust, not unmixed with terror.

All that Uncle Charles had meant to say vanished from his mind as he saw
Harvey advancing upon him with the boa-constrictors, and he began to
retreat more and more rapidly, but with ever decreasing dignity. Harvey
still pursued.

“Why, Uncle,” we heard him say, “what’s the matter?” There was no
response—Uncle Charles had gone home. But the circus was broken up.

I think it is better to draw a veil over the consequences of our circus.
No circus is complete without a side-show—and ours was no exception. We
never had another one—at least not in mother’s room.

                                                     Paul Brenton Eliot.




                     THE GRAY-CROWNED LEUCOSTICTE.
                      (_Leucosticte tephrocotis._)


The Gray-crowned Leucosticte or Gray-crowned Rosy Finch, as it is often
called, is a resident of the interior of British America during the
warmer months. In the winter it passes southward, frequenting the Rocky
Mountain region of the United States, where it is quite common on the
eastern slopes. So far as known, within the border of the United States,
it only nests in the Sierra Nevada in California. While on the slopes of
the mountains this Finch is usually seen in flocks. During the most
severe weather it will frequent settled districts, becoming quite tame,
and it has been known to seek the sheltering cover of the nests of cliff
swallows under the eaves of buildings. When in the fields it is a
restless bird and quite shy.

Dr. R. W. Shufeldt, while stationed at Fort Fetterman, Wyoming, had an
excellent opportunity to study the habits of this handsome bird. He
captured eight, including both males and females, which he placed in a
cage especially prepared for them. “In a few days they not only became
accustomed to their quarters, but apparently thoroughly satisfied and
happy. Flocks of their companions passing over were certain to be called
down, to alight on the fences, the ground, and in fact, everything in
the neighborhood of the cage, to even the cage itself.” The birds were
given canary and flax seeds, cracked wheat and finally lettuce and other
tender leaves, all of which they seemed to relish. Dr. Shufeldt also
says:

“Every morning, as I approached the cage, a general and impatient
chattering commenced for their breakfast and bath, and they immediately
availed themselves of both in my presence. Often I deluged the entire
cage, birds and all, with a large watering pot, and they enjoyed the
sprinkling immensely. Later in the spring this part of the programme was
followed by their pluming themselves in the sun, chattering among
themselves and the males giving utterance to a low, subdued and
plaintive sort of song, being different from the shrill whistle they
gave to attract the attention of their passing fellows outside.” By the
middle of May all the birds of this species had left the vicinity for
their breeding grounds further north. Dr. Shufeldt’s captives did not
even pair and early in July he released them. Their plumage seemed to be
at its best in the early part of May.

Another authority, speaking of this bird’s habits in the mountain
regions, says, “During summer and autumn the Gray-crowned Finch is
common above timber line, where it breeds, ranging higher than the
titlark and being usually found in the vicinity of snow fields and the
frozen lakes near the summit of the range. It is rather shy in such
localities, though exceedingly tame in winter. Its flight is in
undulating lines, like the crossbills. The only note I have heard it
utter is a kind of churr, like the call of the scarlet tanager. They
stay above timber-line till the close of October or the middle of
November. They are perpetually roving from place to place feeding upon
the seeds of weeds and grasses and are never at rest for a moment at a
time, constantly whirling about in close, dense masses, like so many
longspurs.”

                [Illustration: GRAY-CROWNED LEUCOSTICTE.
                       (Leucosticte tephrocotis).
                               Life-size.
                    FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.]




                          CORUNDUM AND SPINEL.


                               CORUNDUM.

The mineral species Corundum affords a number of gems known by different
names. These differences arise from the fact that the stones were used
as gems before their mineralogical identity was discovered. Thus red
Corundum is known as the ruby and blue Corundum as the sapphire. When
Corundum suitable for gem purposes occurs of other colors, such as
green, yellow or violet, the gems are sometimes known as green, yellow
or violet sapphires, respectively, or by the name of another gem which
they closely resemble in color, with the adjective Oriental prefixed.
Such are the gems known as Oriental topaz, Oriental emerald, Oriental
aquamarine, Oriental hyacinth, Oriental amethyst and Oriental
chrysolite. Colorless Corundum is known as leucosapphire. While Corundum
of all colors is used for gems, it is only that which is transparent
which can be so employed. This is sometimes called noble Corundum to
distinguish it from common Corundum. The two, however, often occur
together. Common Corundum is used as an abrasive, emery being one of its
varieties, but it has no gem value.

Corundum is a sesquioxide of aluminum, with the percentages aluminum
53.2, oxygen 46.8. Its hardness is 9 in the scale of which diamond is
10, and no other mineral except the latter equals it in hardness. This
hardness gives it a wearing quality as a gem second only to the diamond.
The varieties of Corundum differ slightly in hardness, sapphire being
the hardest. Noble Corundum has a brilliant, vitreous luster, which,
while not equal to that of the diamond, is superior to that exhibited by
almost any other gem. Corundum is a heavy mineral, its specific gravity
being four times that of water. This high specific gravity affords an
easy means of distinguishing the gems of Corundum from those of other
species. Corundum is infusible and is not attacked by acids. It
crystallizes in the rhombohedral division of the hexagonal system,
certain crystal forms being characteristic of the two varieties, ruby
and sapphire. Thus ruby tends to crystallize in flat rhombohedral
crystals, while sapphire generally forms in longer, hexagonal prisms.
(See colored plate in November number.) Corundum is doubly refracting
and dichroic. Of the different colors of Corundum above referred to, the
blue or sapphire is most common, the red or ruby next. The other colors
occur rather sparingly, green having been almost unknown until the
discovery of the Montana sapphires. The nature of the coloring
ingredient of the different varieties of Corundum is not known, but
there is some reason for believing it to be chromium, for Fremy obtained
artificial red and blue Corundum by mixing chromium with his other
ingredients, after many attempts to obtain the desired color had failed.

Red Corundum varies in hue from rose to deep red. That of the latter
tint is the true ruby, the color known as pigeon’s blood being most
highly prized. Faultless stones of this color have long been the most
valuable of gems, exceeding the diamond in price, weight for weight,
unless the latter is colored. Rubies above three carats in weight are
about ten times more valuable than ordinary diamonds of the
corresponding weights. But few rubies exceeding ten carats are known.
The King of Pegu is reported to have one the size of a hen’s egg, but as
no one has ever seen it the story may well be doubted. In the crown of
the Empress Catherine was, however, one the size of a pigeon’s egg.
There is also a large uncut ruby in the British crown, which Ruskin
calls the loveliest precious stone of which he has any knowledge.

The chief home of the ruby is Burmah. From its mines and those of Siam
and Ceylon have come practically all the world’s supply of rubies. The
most important Burmese mines are in Mogouk, ninety miles north of
Mandalay. The rubies were evidently formed in limestone, which is now
much decomposed, and seem to have been the result of metamorphism of the
limestone by the entrance of eruptive rocks. The ruby-bearing earth is
known as “byon,” and the stones are obtained from it by washing. The
rubies are usually in the form of more or less complete crystals. The
mines have been worked since the British occupation of Burmah in 1886 by
a British company, and there can be little doubt that a desire to
acquire these mines was the chief reason for the occupation. The mines
have not proved very profitable, however, and only within the last year
or two has the company been able to pay any dividends. The hope of
success has lain in the introduction of machinery for washing the byon
more cheaply than it could be done by the primitive native methods, and
it is now believed by the introduction of an electrical power plant that
this has been accomplished. This company now produces at least one-half
the annual yield of rubies of the world.

Previous to the English working of the mines the ruby mining was
performed by local miners under control of the native government, all
rubies above a certain size going to the king. Whenever a ruby of
unusual size was found a procession of grandees, with soldiers and
elephants, was sent out to meet it. One of the titles of the King of
Burmah was Lord of the Rubies.

The Siamese rubies come from near Bangkok, on the Gulf of Siam. They
occur in a clay which seems to be the product of alteration of a besalt.
These rubies are not equal in quality to those of Burmah. Rubies are
also found in the gem gravels of Ceylon and in Afghanistan, thirty-two
miles east of Cabul. In our own country ruby Corundum is occasionally
found in connection with opaque Corundum in Macon County, North
Carolina. In the gravels of Caler Fork of Cowee Creek of this county
good rubies are found in sufficient quantity to reward systematic mining
for them.

These rubies are mostly small, but some gems of three or four carats’
weight and of excellent color have been obtained.

Among the Montana sapphires an occasional red stone is found, but they
do not have the choicest red color.

Another source of rubies is their artificial production, after the
method discovered by the French chemist Fremy. These are made by heating
a mixture of aluminum sesquioxide, carbonate of lime, barium fluoride
and potassium chromate in a porous clay crucible to a temperature of
1500 degrees C. and keeping the mixture fluid for eight days.
Well-formed, clear crystals up to one-third of a carat in weight are
thus produced, which have the hardness and color of native ruby. They
are not considered so valuable as gems as the latter, and can be
distinguished by the air bubbles which may be seen with a lens. The
expense of making them is nearly equal to the value of native rubies, so
that their production is likely to be limited.

Rubies were known to the ancients, being mentioned in the Bible in
Proverbs and Job. The Greeks and Romans ascribed to the ruby the power
of giving light in the dark, and the Hindoos describe the abodes of
their gods as thus lighted. The ruby was much worn as an amulet, being
supposed to protect the wearer against plague, poison and evil spirits.
It was also thought that it would turn dark if its owner were in danger
and would not regain its color until the peril was over.

The ruby is usually cut in the form of the brilliant, like the diamond,
but sometimes the step cut is advantageously employed. The stones from
India are usually rounded by the native gem cutters and worn in this
manner.

Blue precious Corundum or sapphire is more abundant than the red or
ruby. Like the red the blue color seems to be due to a content of
chromium, since in the artificial crystals already mentioned as produced
by Fremy, both colors occur at times in the same crystal. The blue
color, however, unlike the reds, disappears on heating.

Blue Corundum exhibits various shades from light to dark, the color most
highly prized being that known as cornflower blue. A good sapphire
should also have high luster and a velvety sheen. As already noted,
sapphire is somewhat harder than ruby, and it is also somewhat heavier.
The Montana sapphires are said to be especially hard.

Sapphires have at the present time not over half the value of a ruby of
the same size. A price of forty dollars per carat is an average one for
a stone of not over ten carats and, as much larger stones are
comparatively common, the price does not increase so rapidly as does
that of the ruby with an increase in size.

The world’s supply of sapphires comes chiefly from Siam. The most
important mines of that country are those of Battambong, a city
southeast of Bangkok. The sapphires occur in a sandy clay out of which
they are washed. The sapphire-bearing region is about a hundred miles in
length. Together with the sapphires occur some rubies, especially in the
southern part of the district. Sapphires also occur among the rubies of
Burmah, but in small numbers. The so-called gem gravels of Ceylon
furnish many sapphires, though their quality is not equal to those of
Siam because of paleness of color. In these gem gravels occur also ruby,
spinel, garnet, topaz, amethyst, tourmaline and hyacinth. Another
locality for sapphires, discovered in the early eighties, is Banskar, in
Cashmere, India. These stones were first disclosed by the fall of an
avalanche, and later were discovered to exist in the region in
considerable numbers. For a time they could be cheaply purchased, but
are now jealously guarded by the government. The Montana sapphires have
been known since 1865, but were not systematically worked until 1891.
They occur in river sands east of Helena, and were first obtained in
washing for gold. Now the mother rock has been discovered, and this is
mined, the rock being taken out, piled in heaps and submitted to the
action of frost through the winter. The sapphires thus become loosened
and can be readily separated. These sapphires are well crystallized and
are of good average size, though few gems exceed six carats in weight.
Their luster and color are for the most part of first quality, and the
stones are in demand for the best of jewelry.

Noble Corundum of other colors than those of blue and red is not of
abundant occurrence nor is it ordinarily as highly prized as are the
sapphire and ruby. Colorless sapphire or leucosapphire is sometimes used
as a substitute for the diamond, from which it can readily be
distinguished by its lower hardness and higher specific gravity.

Certain specimens of both sapphire and ruby, but especially the former,
exhibit when lighted a six-rayed star. This appears as beams of light,
radiating from a center, which changes in position as the stone is
turned. Such stones are called star or asteriated sapphires or rubies,
and are highly prized. They are usually cut with rounded surface, as
this best brings out the figure. The cause of the star-shaped figure is
generally supposed to be the presence of countless microscopic cavities
in the stone, which are arranged parallel to the faces of a six-sided
prism. The total reflection of the light from these causes the star.
Others think that multitudes of twining lamellæ cause the appearance.

Sapphire is a word which is the same in nearly all languages. In
Chaldean, Hebrew, Greek and Latin it has the same form as in modern
tongues. This fact testifies to the ancient use of the stone. In early
times sapphire was believed to be a destroyer of poison, so that if put
into a glass with a spider or venomous reptile it would kill it. It was
regarded also as a remedy against fevers.


                                SPINEL.

The group of Spinel includes in mineralogy a number of species of
different though analogous composition. The Spinel employed as a gem is
almost wholly confined to the magnesium aluminate, having the percentage
composition alumina 71.8 and magnesia 28.2. This is usually of a red
color, different shades giving gems known by different names as follows:
Deep red, spinel-ruby; rose-red, Balas ruby; yellow- or orange-red,
rubicelle; violet red, almandine ruby. Spinel is thus known among gems
chiefly as a relative of the ruby, and this sort of Spinel will first be
considered.

The Spinel rubies differ from the true or corundum rubies in hardness,
specific gravity and system of crystallization. The hardness of Spinel
is 8, or about that of topaz, and the specific gravity 3.6. It is thus
neither as hard nor as heavy as corundum ruby. Again, the system of
crystallization differs. Spinel crystallizes in the isometric system and
is usually found in the form, of octahedrons, while corundum ruby is
hexagonal in crystallization. (See colored plate in November number.)
Spinel is singly refracting in polarized light and corundum doubly
refracting. Spinel ruby is infusible before the blowpipe, but on heating
undergoes a curious series of changes in color which are quite
characteristic. The red changes first to brown, and then becomes black
and opaque, but on cooling the black changes to green, then becomes
nearly colorless and finally the stone resumes its original red color.
As a small percentage of chromium is usually found by analysis to exist
in ruby Spinel, its color is generally considered to be due to this
ingredient. While the Spinel ruby is considered of less value than the
corundum ruby and is sometimes by fraud or error substituted for the
latter, it yet has a definite value as a gem and is sold under the name
of Spinel ruby or some of its varieties. This value is usually reckoned
at about half that of the corundum ruby, although variations in quality
of the stones, as well as changes in demand, cause differences of price.
Thus Emanuel mentions a Spinel ruby of good quality weighing 40 carats,
which in 1856 was sold for two thousand dollars, but which in 1862
brought at public auction only four hundred dollars. In 1866, however,
it was again sold for twelve hundred dollars. The Spinel ruby of the
French crown jewels, weighing 56 carats, was in 1791 valued at ten
thousand dollars.

Not only is Spinel ruby related to corundum ruby in color and use, but
the two are frequently associated together in nature. The gem gravels of
Ceylon, Siam, Australia and Brazil contain both kinds of rubies, and the
ruby mines of Upper Burmah, where the corundum ruby occurs in a
crystalline limestone, produce also large quantities of Spinel rubies.
Spinel rubies also come in large quantity from Badakschan, in
Afghanistan, near the river Oxus, the name of Balas rubies, by which
they are often known, being said to be derived from Beloochistan, or
Balakschan. The Persians have a tradition regarding these mines that
they were disclosed by an earthquake which rent the mountain in twain.
The localities above mentioned furnish nearly all the Spinel rubies of
commerce. A few have been found in North America at Hamburgh, New
Jersey, and San Luis Obispo, California. But these localities have never
afforded any appreciable supply. No Spinel rubies of great size are
known. Bauer mentions as the largest known, two cut stones, one of 81
carats and the other 72½ carats, exhibited at the London Exposition of
1862. The King of Oude is said at one time to have possessed a Spinel
ruby the size of a pigeon’s egg.

Spinel occurs in many other colors besides red, such as orange, green,
blue and indigo, as well as white and black. Occasionally colorless
Spinels occur, and as they cannot be distinguished by their behavior in
polarized light from the diamond, it is sometimes sought to substitute
them for the latter. They can be detected at once, however, by their
inferior hardness. While Spinels of any color, if transparent and free
from flaws, make desirable gems, the only colors found in sufficient
quantity outside of the red to make an appreciable supply are the blue
and the black. The blue Spinels resemble the sapphire in color, though
they are somewhat paler. They come chiefly from Ceylon and Burmah, where
they occur together with the ruby Spinel. The black Spinel is known as
Ceylonite, or pleonaste, and is also obtained chiefly from Ceylon,
although occurring of quality suitable for cutting at Mount Vesuvius in
Italy.

Like the ruby, Spinel can be made artificially, the process being to
heat a mixture of alumina and magnesia with boracic acid, and if the red
color is desired, a little chromium oxide.

The Spinel ruby seems to have been known to the ancients equally with
the corundum ruby, and the two were probably often confounded. The
natives of India call the Spinel the pomegranate ruby and believe to
this day that it possesses valuable medicinal properties.

                                             Oliver Cummings Farrington.

                 [Illustration: WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW.
                       (Zonotrichia leucophrys).
                               Life-size.
                    FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.]




                       THE WHITE-CROWNED SPARROW.
                      (_Zonotrichia leucophrys._)


  With the snowflakes o’er the mountains
  Hasten past the hawks from Northland,
  Speed along the titmice, juncos,
  White-crowned Sparrows, wrens, and creepers,
  Tiny kinglets, sweet-voiced bluebirds,
  All in eager search for havens
  Where the touch of winter kills not.
                                      —Frank Bolles, “Birds in October.”

Mr. Ernest E. Thompson calls the White-crowned Sparrow an aristocrat of
the sparrow family. One of the largest of the sparrows, its beautifully
marked plumage and its dignified mien, as it stands on some exposed
perch, immediately attracts the attention of an observer. Its range is
extensive, covering the whole of the United States during its
migrations, and in winter it passes further southward into the valley
regions of Mexico. In the selection of a nesting site a pure and cool
atmosphere seems a paramount consideration. The mountain regions of the
western United States and the country lying north of the great lakes and
eastward into Labrador seem to meet the requirements for the home
building of these sweet dispositioned birds. Then its music is sweetest.
During its migration, however, localities not favored with its home are
often regaled “with selections of its melodies as it rests in thickets
and hedgerows while slowly passing through our country on its northward
pilgrimage.” From some high bush or other favorable perch the male will
pour forth an almost unbroken song while its mate is setting. Often this
song does not cease with the going down of the sun, and it has been
heard as late as midnight. It is a “lively, agreeable song, fine and
clear, and is frequently heard from a score or more of birds at the same
time with a most pleasing effect.”

Its song, quite closely resembling that of its relative the
white-throated sparrow, with which it quite frequently consorts during
its migrations, yet the two songs are readily distinguishable. Mr.
Thompson compares the songs. He says: “Its usual song is like the latter
half of the white-throat’s familiar refrain, repeated a number of times
with a peculiar, sad cadence and a clear, soft whistle that is
characteristic of the group.” Dr. Coues, speaking of the two songs, says
that the song of the White-crowned Sparrow is “a less enterprising vocal
effort, of only five or six syllables, like pee, dee, de, de, de, the
two first long drawn, rising, the rest hurried and lowering.”
Transcribed into words, there are almost as many renderings of the
White-crowned’s song as there are observers. Mr. Burroughs says that the
song “begins with the words fe-u, fe-u, fe-u, and runs off into trills
and quavers like the song sparrow’s, only much more touching.” To Mr.
Langille “the song is quite peculiar, whee-who-who-zee-zee-zee, the
first three notes in a clear whistle and the last three in a sort of
jew’s-harp tone, the whole being decidedly pleasing, and not at all like
that of the white-throat.”

The food of the White-crowned sparrow consists of both insects and
seeds. To some extent they feed upon berries, and Audubon states that in
Labrador they also eat minute shellfish, “for which they frequently
search the margins of ponds or the seashore.” This bird is a scratcher.
It is also a hopper and hence scratches with both feet at once.

The nest of this Sparrow is usually constructed of grass or moss and is
placed either on the ground or in low bushes. Audubon describes a
beautiful nest of this species which he found in Labrador. This nest
“was placed in the moss, near the foot of a low fir, and was formed
externally of beautiful dry green moss, matted in bunches, like the
coarse hair of some quadruped; internally of very fine, dry grass,
arranged with great neatness, to the thickness of nearly half an inch,
with a full lining of delicate fibrous roots of a rich transparent
color.”

Of this beautiful Sparrow Mr. Burroughs has said: “Among the birds that
tarry briefly with us in the spring on their way to Canada and beyond,
there is none that I behold with so much pleasure as the White-crowned
Sparrow. I have an eye out for him all through April and the first week
in May. He is the rarest and most beautiful of the sparrow kind. He is
crowned as some hero or victor in the games. His sparrow color, of ashen
gray and brown, is very clear and bright, and his form graceful. His
whole expression, however, culminates in a regular manner in his crown.
The various tints of the bird are brought to a focus here and
intensified, the lighter ones becoming white and the deeper ones mainly
black. There is the suggestion of a crest also, from a habit this bird
has of slightly elevating this part of its plumage, as if to make more
conspicuous its pretty markings.”




                         AFTER THE SNOW STORM.


  Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee,
    Tell me where were you
  When last night the white snow drifted
    And the north wind blew?
  Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee,
    Bonny little bird!
  Come anear my window, let me
    Whisper you a word:

  If you’ll stay with me all winter,
    Chick-a-dee-dee-dee,
  Apple-cores and crumbs I’ll give you;
    Best of friends we’ll be;
  You shall sit among the branches
    Of the lilac tree,
  Sit and sing anear my window,
    Chick-a-dee-dee-dee.

  Glad indeed I’ll be to see you;
    Promise me you’ll stay,
  Food and shelter I shall find you
    For the winter day;
  And in spring I’ll give you, dearest
    Chick-a-dee-dee-dee,
  For your nesting-place and bower,
    All my lilac tree!
                         —Mary Grant O’Sheridan, in the Chicago Tribune.




                        THE FEATHERED FISHERMAN.


The cormorant is a strange and remarkable bird, and is found in many
parts of the world. It is of large size and somewhat resembles the goose
and the pelican. Its feet are webbed, and its middle toe has notches
like the teeth of a saw, which help it to hold its prey. Its plumage is
generally dark, while the feathers on its head and neck are jet black.
Its bill is long and straight, except at the end, where the upper part
bends into a sharp hook.

The cormorant is a great fisher, and it is needless to say that it is
only found where fish are to be had, as it lives chiefly upon them. It
is a very greedy bird, and will hover over the water for hours at a
time, catching and devouring fish until it can swallow no more.
Sometimes the cormorant will play with its prey, letting it go and
diving after it several times, but its victim never escapes in the end.
This bird has seldom been known to miss its aim when diving for a fish.
It drops from a great height when descending upon its prey, and
sometimes it is seen to emerge from the water holding a fish by the
tail, in which case it cannot very well manage to swallow it, so the
fish is tossed up into the air and, turning a complete somersault, comes
down head foremost into the bird’s mouth. The home of the cormorant is
among the steep ledges of rock by the sea, where they build their nests
and rear their young. Their nests are made of dry sticks, weeds and
moss. The old birds return each year to their old nests, repair them and
begin rearing another brood. At night those having no broods roost
apart, standing erect in files upon the top of some high ledge. The
young birds are of a livid color and present a very unattractive
appearance. Their legs and feet are enormous and all out of proportion
to their little bodies.

When leaving for the season cormorants fly in long lines one after
another. In their wild state it is almost impossible to get very near
the cormorants when they are fishing, as they are very cautious and have
many sentinels to warn them of the approach of danger.

In far-off China the cormorant is tamed and put to a very curious and
practical use. When a Chinaman goes fishing he does not take a rod and
line, as we do, but sets out in his boat and takes some trained
cormorants along with him. As soon as he comes to a place where there
are plenty of fish, the cormorants plunge into the water, catching fish
after fish, and, at their master’s call, dropping them in the bottom of
the boat. These birds are so greedy that if left to themselves they
would eat the fish as fast as they caught them, so the cunning Chinaman
ties a small piece of twine around their necks so that they cannot
swallow it. In this way he gets a boatload of fish with very little
trouble. After the cormorants have finished their work, the strings are
untied and they are allowed to fish for themselves.

                                            Walter Cummings Butterworth.




                  A WINTER-PIECE AMONG THE PENTLANDS.


  A flock of fieldfares from the leafless trees
    Flew chattering mournfully, while here and there
  A single redwing flung upon the breeze
    A sigh that seem’d the utterance of despair.

  But on the burn, scarce half a mile below,
    The bluff white-breasted ouzel from a rock
  Pour’d his bold song—a huddling overflow
    Of mirth, those faint-heart winter-fowl to mock.
                                                       —Henry Johnstone.




                             THE CARNATION.


Most of the names by which we are accustomed to designate familiar forms
of the vegetable kingdom have descended to us from remote times and from
ancient associations. The old terms are for the most part founded either
on the medicinal values of the plants or on some mythological fancy that
accounted for their creation or form.

The Carnation derived its generic name from the latter source. The term
Dianthus is derived from two Greek words, signifying flower of Jupiter,
while the specific name, caryophyllus, is obtained from words meaning
nut and leaf, originally applied to the clove tree, but later given to
the Carnation, because of its spicy fragrance. Again, the word Carnation
is from the Latin, meaning flesh, and was deemed appropriate because of
the pink and white color of the petals.

The name Dianthus, or flower of Jupiter, originates in a Greek myth,
that had to do with the establishment of Olympus. Jupiter had escaped
the unpleasant fate that befell his brothers, namely, of being swallowed
by their unnatural parent, Saturn. Jupiter married Metis (Prudence), who
straightway demonstrated the fitness of her name by bestowing on Saturn
a draught which caused him to disgorge his domestic bill of fare, and
the sons, banding together, imprisoned their father and his brother
Titans and divided their empire among themselves. Jupiter inherited the
heavens and became king of gods and men. When the Thunderer came into
possession of his kingdom Vulcan, the celestial artist, crowned him with
a chaplet of beautiful flowers, whose white petals Iris had marked with
the colors of the rainbow, their edges being bright with the plumage of
the peacock, which was the favorite bird of Juno, as was Iris, her
chosen attendant, after she espoused Jupiter and became queen of the
gods. Hence the Dianthus became the flower of Jupiter.

The Carnation has been under cultivation for more than two thousand
years. Theophrastus, who gave the plant its technical name, states that
“the Greeks cultivated roses, gillie flowers, violets, narcissi and
iris,” gillie flower being the old English name for the Carnation,
having been bestowed upon it for the reason that it bloomed in July. It
was also called the Coronarium because it was the coronation flower of a
queen of Italy during whose reign in the sixteenth century the plants
were introduced into England.

From their first appearance in England Carnations took a firm hold on
the popular fancy, varieties began to be formed, the original flesh
color being broken up into red and white. The remarkable susceptibility
of the plants to cultivation, their beauty and fragrance, so appealed to
the florists of Italy, France, Germany and Holland that in 1597 Gerard
wrote that “to describe each new variety of Carnation were to roll
Sisyphus’ stone or number the sands.”

The Carnations of to-day originated about 1840, as a distinct race.
Special attention was given in Europe to the elaboration of the plants
by M. Dalmais and M. Schmitt, and the varieties created by them were
imported to America in 1868. Bench cultivation was started in the United
States in 1875 and became so popular that in 1892 the specialist or
“Carnationalist” first became known. At that time there were about five
hundred distinct varieties, all of American origin.

The Carnation is a native of Central and Southern Europe. Since its
introduction into England it is said to have escaped cultivation and to
have become fixed in several localities. In its cultivation three
general classes have been established by English specialists. The selfs
are plants whose flowers have a uniform color. The flakes possess a pure
ground of white or yellow, flaked or striped with one color, the stripes
running longitudinally through the petals. The bizarres are such as have
a pure ground, marked as in the flakes, but with two or three colors;
this form possesses the most fragrance, especially when there is a
frequent recurrence of the stripes. Lastly there are the picotees,
having a pure ground, each petal being bordered with a band of color.
This last form includes many of the rarest varieties and the yellow
picotee is famous in several royal establishments.

                       [Illustration: CARNATIONS.
                       (Dianthus caryophyllus).]

It is a peculiar fact that rain will injure the colors of the more
delicate varieties, and the florist must shield the opening flowers from
direct sunlight if he would obtain the best results.

In the perfect flower the pod and calyx should be long, the flower
circular, not less than three inches in diameter, rising gradually
towards the center, so as to form a sort of crown. The outer petals
should be large and few in number, rising slightly above the calyx and
spreading horizontally, the other petals being regularly disposed above
them, nearly flat, diminishing in size towards the center. The ground
should be a pure color and the petals wax-like.

The Carnation is allied to the pink family, and consequently is related
to the modest Indian pink, the Chinese pink and the Sweet William. These
lowly forms doubtless nourish a secret pride in their relationship to
the illustrious head of the house, concerning which Shakespeare said,
“The fairest flowers of the season are our Carnations.”

                                                      Charles S. Raddin.




                              WINTER SONG.


  Sing ho! for the hilltop bold and bare,
    Where the bracing breezes blow!
  There’s a frosty edge on the wintry air,
  Exhilaration keen and rare
    That sets the heart aglow.

  Over the crest the snow lies deep,
    Over the brow of the hill.
  Down below the woodlands sleep,
  Blanketed well on the sloping steep
    ’Neath a snow sheet white and chill.

  Sing ho, sing ho, for the galloping gale
    That sweeps the summit clear,
  And drives the mass of icy shale
  Into the pines, whose eery wail
    Fills timid souls with fear!

  There’s that in the winter’s whistling wind
    That stirs dead hearts to life,
  And energy and health you’ll find
  In the breath of the breeze that’s rough yet kind,
    That’s keen as a surgeon’s knife.
                                                      —Frank Farrington.




                            BUDS OF PROMISE.
                    COLD WEATHER NOTES FROM NATURE.


It has become a conventional habit with us to look upon the winter
season as unproductive of artistic interest so far as Nature’s
decorations are concerned. And we note it as a period of rest from the
exhaustion of seed time and harvest. But to the initiated and observant,
it is now that the change worketh fast, and barely has the network of
fretted branches, looming up so purple against an autumnal sky, become a
realization, before the winter progress of the budding forest has
changed the dreamy violet to a rich ruddy brown, in promise of a future
fulfillment of a rich verdure of living greens.

In winter, we are, as it were, behind the scenes in the green-room of
some vast forest auditorium, and the closely locked buds are become the
dressing rooms of thousands upon thousands of gaily decked flower-folk,
who are preparing their multi-colored wardrobe of gorgeous petals, with
which to entrance and delight our mortal eyes when the golden key of the
sun shall have unlocked their doors, and are melted the barriers of ice
and snow that now reign supreme in the great foyers of the forest. But
if at present we are barred from the scene, the work of preparation is
being rushed forward, and on every swelling twig there is evidence of a
glorious drama of delight which shall be uncurtained at the clarion
voice of Spring. How many shades and colors are outlined against the
wintry sky! The bronze points of the oaks, in contrast with the gray of
the pale ash buds, whose color indicates the advent of some demure
debutant in Quaker costume, while the ruddy buds of the whitewood or
tulip tree, which steal their rich color from the furrowed red of its
bark, give promise of some gorgeous result that is later realized in the
magnolia-like bloom of rich, creamy green, girdled with a crimson sash,
and which within the last few years has become such a fad among nature’s
devotees. But all of our fads are but a continuing in the universal
circle from which, according to Lord Beaconsfield, we never evolve
beyond, and it is written that the tulip tree was so esteemed by the
ancients that they poured libations of wine about its roots. We put our
wine to other uses in these twentieth century days, but we worship at
the same tree, pro tempore.

The highly polished buds of the June berry or shad bush shine forth in
evidence of a future of bewildering bloom that shall envelop its now
dull branches in a robe of fairy whiteness when “the shad come down.”
Break open the tightly sealed, varnished bud of the lilac tree, and out
pours that incomparable fragrance of Spring, an odor that challenges all
of the arts and sciences or alchemy to produce. One of the most notable
trees in winter is the plane-tree or buttonwood, wrongly called
sycamore, a term which can only be applied correctly to the Ficus
sycamorus, or true sycamore, a tree closely allied to the fig, and a
native of the far East. It is the ragged appearance of the buttonwood
that makes it so conspicuous a tree in winter, the white trunk gleaming
so distinctly through its shattered habiliments of bark. It is said that
this disastrous state of its covering is due to the inelasticity of the
bark, which does not expand to meet the requirements of the tree’s
growth, as does the bark of other trees, hence the impoverished
condition of its outer garment. But when we see this sad state of
conditions repeated on its human prototype, we feel that we have more
cause for sympathy than ridicule, so why not accord the tree the same
commiseration? But I am sure there is some legendary tale extant to the
effect that in mythological days the tree was a derelict from duty in
some line or another, and for this was condemned to pass the rest of its
days in a tattered coat, for so was sentenced the white Birch, who
arrived late at an important wedding of the gods, hence doomed to wear
her wedding garment of snowy bark throughout all ages in penance for her
dilatoriness. But if the buttonwood wears the coat of poverty, it is
more than abundantly supplied with buttons, which are so tightly sewed
on that it is no easy task to secure a bunch of these drooping balls for
decorative purposes, and for which they are so effective when hung among
clusters of the scarlet berries of the bitter-sweet. Their secure hold
on the parent stem has thus aroused the interest of John Burroughs:

“Why has Nature taken such particular pains to keep these balls hanging
to the parent tree intact till spring? What secret of hers has she
buttoned in so securely? for these buttons will not come off. The wind
can not twist them off, nor warm nor wet hasten or retard them. The
stem, or penduncle, by which the ball is held in the fall and winter,
breaks up into a dozen or more threads or strands, that are stronger
than those of hemp. When twisted tightly they make a little cord that I
find it impossible to break with my hands. Had they been longer the
Indian would surely have used them to make his bow strings and all other
strings he required. One could hang himself with a small cord of them.
Nature has determined that these buttons should stay on. In order that
the needs of this tree may germinate, it is probably necessary that they
be kept dry during the winter, and reach the ground after the season of
warmth and moisture is fully established. In May, just as the leaves and
the new balls are emerging, at the touch of a warm, moist south wind,
these spherical packages suddenly go to pieces—explode, in fact, like
tiny bombshells that were fused to carry to this point—and scatter their
seeds to the four winds. They yield at the same time a fine pollen-like
dust that one would suspect played some part in fertilizing the new
balls, did not botany teach him otherwise. At any rate, it is the only
deciduous tree I know of that does not let go the old seed till the new
is well on the way.”

Next to the cedar tree, this tree is the strongest power in mythology
and was, by the ancients, consecrated to Genius, and who knows what
mighty stores of intelligence is buttoned under its tattered coat? and I
myself can bear witness to its strong will and determination under
adverse circumstances, for a huge tree that has fallen from a high bank
into the river below, has floated down stream to a lodgment, and there
put forth a vigorous growth of foliage, and is thriving well under these
abnormal conditions. The maple bloom is now closely housed, with but
little show of promise, but if one were favored with a specially alert
ear, I am sure that he could hear the rush of the ascending sap blood,
hurrying upward in answer to the call of the quickening Spirit of
Spring. In many of the creepers, the lilies and the gourd, a kind of
fever heat is perceptible at the time of inflorescence, and the heat has
been observed to increase daily from sixty to one hundred and ten or
even one hundred and twenty degrees, and without doubt the forest
temperament rises accordingly.

As yet the birds have not taken all of the scarlet berries of the
bitter-sweet vine, which clings lovingly, but with a somewhat
parasitical clasp about the hospitable boles of the great trees. In
color rivalry looms up the dark red panicles of the sumach, whose acrid
fruit, which is a last resort for hungry birds, must prove a pungent
pill to the feathered folk. But it is a line of beauty across the
hillside:

  Like glowing lava streams the sumach crawls
  Upon the mountain’s granite walls.

Peeping out from the sheltered crannies are numerous long, slender
fronds of the Christmas fern, Polystichum acrostichoides, gleaming like
emerald bars against the white of the snow bank. Outlining against the
sky are the aristocratic hemlocks which belong to the regal pine family,
and which have established a social precedence by wearing their holiday
clothes all the year round, in opposition to their more humble,
deciduous kin, who are now in working habiliments, and they flaunt their
heads haughtily, but their thickly clothed branches form a warm shelter
for snow bound birds, so that their distinction is not without its
advantages. In a sheltered nook still flourish a few plants of “Life
Everlastin’,” so dear to the hearts of Mary Wilkin’s quaint New England
characters as an allayer of rheumatic ills, and it still exhales its
aromatic fragrance in the air. Here and there a witch-hazel waves its
scraggy branches, still laden with their velvety seed capsules, which
have but now bursted open and shot forth their glistening seeds, and
whose inconsequent yellow bloom has only just shed its slender petals to
the winds. A few lingering wild rose haws are withering upon the parent
stem, yet glowing like cherries against the wintry sky, but break off a
tiny branch and a whiff of Richard Jefferies’ “sweet briar wind” is
wafted across one’s nostrils, filling one’s brain with visions of the
gladdening spring time. A gaily plumaged jay dashes his brilliant blue
through the branches of a thickly needled pine, and a scarlet crowned
“downie” taps diligently up and around the worm-infested trunk of an old
apple tree, in search of an unwary morsel, and one comes to the
conclusion that after all, winter is not all gloom and grayness, but
filled with bits of glowing color and vitality, if only one’s eye is set
for its beauty, instead of its bleakness.

                                                          Alberta Field.




                 HOW A CAT SAVED THE LIFE OF A CANARY.


In a small town in Minnesota, noted for its several state institutions
of learning, lives a widow whose success in the training of a cat has
made her quite noted in her locality.

Tiger, the cat, is not famous for his long hair nor for his long
pedigree. He is simply a creature who has been loved and petted into a
wonderful amount of sympathy for his mistress and he seems to know
instinctively many of her likes and dislikes, and he would no more harm
Dick, the canary, who lives in the same room, than he would attack the
hand which places the saucer of milk before him each day.

One morning, Mrs. Rogers (as we will call his mistress, though that is
not her true name), allowed Dick to take his bath in his tiny tub upon
the dining-room floor, while she rearranged and dusted the furniture of
the room, leaving the door wide open during the time. A neighbor sat by
the doorway watching Dick bathe and, not having the faith in Tiger which
his mistress held, exclaimed, “That cat of yours will kill your bird
sometime. I know he will.”

Mrs. Rogers smiled very quietly as she stopped to give Tiger an assuring
pat on the head and a word of praise for his good behavior, for she
believed he understood the neighbor’s unkind remark.

“Tiger is a good cat and I’ll trust him any time with Dick,” said his
mistress, turning away from him to attend to her duties.

A prolonged “Oh!” like a stifled scream came from the neighbor’s lips
the next minute for Tiger had sprung at Dick and held him tightly in his
cruel jaws.

“See Tige! See Tige!” exclaimed the visitor.

But Dick never fluttered a bit and Mrs. Rogers patted Tiger again as she
caught sight of a vanishing stranger cat disappearing through an open
window.

“Brave old Tiger! Good little Dickie!” said their mistress, as she took
the bird, unharmed, from Tiger’s teeth, which had held the bird safely
away from real danger.

Dick flew back to his open cage, Tiger went back to his nap in the
sunshine, and the lady visitor learned the lesson that love works
wonders in even the creatures that do not speak as we do.

                                                    Mary Catherine Judd.

                 [Illustration: POCKET OR KANGAROO RAT.
                          (Dipodomys similis).
                               Life-size.
                    FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.]




                            THE POCKET RATS.


Rats and mice seem to enjoy living in localities that are frequented by
but few other animals. They are also adepts at seeking food supplies and
travel long distances when hunger demands and a supply of food is not at
hand. The Pocket Rats are no exception to this rule and some of the
species live in dry, arid regions where but little vegetation grows,
aside from a few species of cactus. The rat of our illustration was
found by Mr. Frank M. Woodruff in such a locality, where it had hidden
under the sheltering branches of a cactus.

The marked characteristic that gives these little animals their name is
the pockets or cheek pouches. These are external openings outside of the
mouth and are lined with a furry skin. They are ample in size and the
two will hold, in some instances, a heaping tablespoonful of grain. “The
filling is done so rapidly that, where a hard grain like wheat is used,
a continuous rattling sound is made. The ejecting of the grain from the
pockets is aided by a forward, squeezing motion of the fore feet, each
foot making two or three quick forward passes. Some of the species seem
to thrive in captivity, and after a few days do not fill their pouches,
apparently having learned that it is a useless labor. When obtainable,
their natural food consists of various plant seeds, but when in the
neighborhood of cultivated fields and the vicinity of houses, they feed
also upon grain and the vegetable waste from camps and houses. Mr. F.
Stephens says that some of the species, whose habits he has studied,
will eat about a heaping tablespoonful each of wheat or barley in
twenty-four hours and one or two square inches of beet or cabbage
leaves.” As they are often found in regions practically devoid of water,
a large part of the year, it is highly probable that they obtain the
necessary moisture from succulent leaves. In captivity they drink but
little water. Mr. Stephens writes of one that he trapped that was
evidently very hungry. Placing it in a cage he gave it grain. He says:
“It was amusing to see the eagerness with which it immediately went to
filling its pockets. It stuffed them so full that it must have been
positively painful, and then it would not stop to eat, but hunted about
for some exit; not finding one, it ejected the contents of its pockets
in a corner out of the firelight and went back for more. This time it
ate a little, but soon gathered the remainder and deposited it with the
first. After eating a little more, it refilled its pockets and hunted
about for a better place to make a cache, seeming to think its first
choice insecure. These actions plainly show that they are in the habit
of storing away their supplies.” In some fields where they are common it
is said that more than a pint of grain is ploughed up in a single cache.

The elongated hind legs, well pictured in our illustration, give these
rats a wonderful power of locomotion. As they leap rather than run, they
are often called Kangaroo Rats. Mr. Woodruff states that the specimen,
which we have used, when trying to escape started with short leaps, but
as it gained headway the spans were about four feet in length and at the
highest point about eighteen inches from the ground. He found them quite
common in the vicinity of San Diego, California. They are nocturnal in
their habits, seeking their food through the twilight and night hours,
and resting during the day in their burrows or in shaded places near the
openings to them.

When resting the position of the feet and the arched back give them the
appearance of a hairy ball. The tail is laid straight out from the body,
if space will permit, or when the quarters are cramped it may be curled
alongside the body. The tail is quite useful, as it is used as a sort of
brace when the animal raises on its hind feet to view its surroundings.

There are a number of species of these interesting rats. The first one
was discovered and named in 1839. The species we illustrate was first
found near San Diego and named Dipodomys similis in 1893.




                            WINTER VISITORS.


For several years I have been interested in birds. I have watched them
through the glad nesting time of spring, have sought their quiet
retreats in summer and have heard their faraway calls as they moved
southward in the dark, cold, misty evenings of autumn; but for the first
time I have succeeded in bringing them near enough to study them in
winter.

On the ledge of a second story window, out of the reach of cats, a wide
shelf is fastened, and above it the branch of a dead cherry tree is
securely wired to a shutter. On the shelf I scatter scraps from the
table and shelled corn. To the branch, a long piece of suet is always
bound with a cord. This is my free lunch table, spread for all my bird
friends who wish to come. They have accepted the invitation beyond my
expectation, and have fully repaid me for all the trouble it has been to
prepare for them, in the pleasure their company gives me. I sit just
inside the window and they appear not to notice me, so that I have an
excellent opportunity to note their peculiarities.

The one that comes every day and all day, is the tufted titmouse. He
comes down with a whir, looks sharply about with his bright, black eyes,
then takes a taste of the suet or marrow, and sometimes carries a crumb
away. It is hard to tell how many of them come, as they all look so much
alike. Not more than two or three ever come at once.

A pair of downy woodpeckers are constant visitors at the meat table.
They seldom come together, but sometimes it is the male with his bright
red head spot, sometimes the female, in her plain black and white
stripe. She is very plain, indeed, and somewhat more shy than her mate.
If an English sparrow comes to the shelf while either of them is on the
branch, it quickly drops down beside him as if to say, “See here, you
are out of place,” and the sparrow leaves without a taste of the good
things.

Occasionally a winter wren, with his comical tail and delicate manners,
calls on his way somewhere, and makes a pleasing variety in the
appearance of the visitors. He eats all he needs of the bread crumbs
before leaving, unless some sudden movement within startles him.

The blue jays are the most persistent and least welcome of all. Their
plumage is beautiful, viewed at such close range, but their actions are
not pleasing. They flop down near the window and look in, turning the
head from side to side, as if suspecting some enemy there. The slightest
sound sends them back to the trees, but they soon return, and eat as if
they were starved, driving their bills into the meat with quick hard
strokes, or grabbing at the corn in a nervous, famishing way. After
eating a few grains, they fill their mouths and carry it away to hide
for future emergencies. I have seen them hide it in an old gatepost or
drive it down in the crevices of trees. They carry away more than they
eat and probably never find half of it again, for they have no special
hiding place, but they tuck it in wherever they see a convenient place.
It is somewhat provoking to have the table cleared in this way, unless
it is always watched, for the corn is spread especially for the
cardinals whose brilliant color is such a delight to the eye amid the
sombre colors of winter. There is one blue jay with a drooping wing. We
call him our “Bird with the broken pinion.” He appears to have no
difficulty in getting to the table, and his appetite is not impaired,
but possibly, as Butterworth says, “He will never soar so high again.”

A pair of cardinals come and partake of the corn with a grace and
dignity befitting their royal apparel. They do not hurry nor worry, but
eat slowly and stay until they have enough. They are very quiet now, but
their spring song will repay me for all the corn they will eat.

But of all that come, none are more interesting than the chickadee. He
surely merits all the bright sweet things that have been said or written
about him. He is the only one that utters a note of thanksgiving for his
daily bread before he begins to eat. Then he has such gentle, confiding
ways. Today the ground is covered with a deep, sleet-encrusted snow; the
trees are all icebound, and it must be one of the most disheartening
days the bird world ever knows, yet just now, at four o’clock, two
chickadees are singing their good night song outside my window. In a few
minutes they will be snugly tucked away in some wayside inn, some
sheltered nook prepared by Mother Nature, where they will sleep away one
more cold night, to awaken one day nearer the joyous springtime.

                                                     Caroline H. Parker.




             BEAUTIFUL VINES TO BE FOUND IN OUR WILD WOODS
                                  III.


Another beautiful vine that grows wild in most of our states is the
Trumpet Flower, a popular name for various species of Bignonia and
Tecoma, which belong to the other Bignoniaaceæ or Bignonia family, all
of which are either shrubs or woody vines. There are two or three
species of this family native to the United States, chief among them
being the Tecoma radicans, or what is generally known as the Trumpet
Flower. In some parts of the country it is also called Trumpet Creeper.

The word Tecoma is of Mexican origin and means trumpet, the only known
difference between the Tecoma radicans and the Bignonia is a structural
difference in their pods.

We have several imported varieties of both, that come from South Africa
and Japan, but none prettier than the Tecoma radicans or Trumpet Flower,
which any of us can find along almost any roadside or in rich, moist
woods, blooming in the greatest profusion in August and September.

It is a woody vine, climbing to great heights by abundant rootlets,
produced along the stems. Its pinnate leaves have from five to eleven
ovate, toothed pointed leaflets. Its deep orange-red flowers come in
midsummer and later and grow in corymbs or clusters; its tubular corolla
is funnel-shaped, two or three inches long, with five somewhat irregular
lobes, within which the four stamens are enclosed; its fruit is a
two-celled pod, containing numerous winged seed.

The Trumpet Flower is found in a wild state from Pennsylvania to
Illinois, and southward, and is very common in cultivation, being
vigorous and perfectly hardy, soon covering a large space and reaching
to a height of sixty feet. Blooming as it does in late summer, and early
fall when flowers are scarce, the abundance of its great orange and
scarlet flowers make a very showy spot in a dull landscape, and an
especially attractive bit of color, if you happen to find a vine around
which the ruby-throated hummingbirds are hovering, they being very
partial to the nectar from its flowers.

It is a beautiful vine to drape a tree that is in itself not very
pleasing, or to cover brick or stone outbuildings.

Its faults, and it is a shame to discover faults in anything so
beautiful, are a tendency to become naked below, which can be remedied
by cutting back, an over abundant production of suckers, and its
immensely long roots.

Bignonia capreolata, named for the Abbe Bignon, who first found it, is a
closely related species, of a more southern range than the Tecoma, being
found in Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia. Its leaves consist of but two
leaflets and a terminal tendril. Its flowers, similar to those of the
preceding, are orange. In the southern states it is called cross-vine,
as the wood if cut transversely shows a cross.

One species of the Trumpet Flower, the Tecoma stans, is a non-climbing
shrub of southern Florida and northern Mexico. It grows about four feet
high and bears large clusters of lemon-yellow flowers. It is hardy at
Washington in the Botanical Gardens and there were fine plants exhibited
at the Buffalo Exposition.

                                                          J. O. Cochran.




                             THE PERSIMMON.
                       (_Diospyros virginiana._)


  Have you ever,
  On your travels
    Through the queer, uncertain South,
  Had a ’simmon—
  Green Persimmon—
    Make a sortie on your mouth?
                                                        —Frank H. Sweet.

The Persimmon, or Virginian Date Plum, is a North American tree, growing
wild in nearly all of the Southern United States, and will thrive and
ripen its fruits as far north as the state of Connecticut and the great
lakes. It is one of about one hundred and eighty species belonging to
the genus Diospyros. These are all hardy trees or shrubs.
Representatives of the genus are found in nearly all regions that have a
tropical or a temperate climate. The name Diospyros is of interest, for
it is from a Greek name used by Theophrastus, and is derived from two
words, one meaning Jove’s and the other wheat or grain. This name of
Theophrastus has reference to the edible fruit and literally translated
means divine or celestial food.

Only a few of the species are cultivated. These are highly ornamental
trees with a beautiful foliage, which is rarely attacked by insects. The
common Persimmon of America is the only species that is at all hardy in
the north. This and the Japanese species (Diospyros kaki) are the only
trees that produce the edible fruit commonly found in the market. The
wood of nearly all the species of Diospyros is hard and close-grained.
The trees that yield the beautiful ebony of commerce belong to this
genus, and the species that is said to yield the best quality of this
wood (Diospyros ebenum) is a native of the East Indies and Ceylon. It is
also cultivated to some extent in hothouses and in tropical climates.

The common Persimmon of the United States (Diospyros virginiana) is a
tree, usually growing to a height of about fifty or sixty feet, and
rarely reaching one hundred feet. This is a beautiful round-topped tree
with more or less spreading branches. The name Persimmon is of Indian
origin and of unknown meaning. The fruit of this species is but lightly
appreciated except by those who visit the forest regions in which it is
native, for it is only cultivated to a very limited extent. The fruit is
globular in form and quite plum-like. It varies both in size, color and
flavor. When green the fruit is astringent and has a very disagreeable
taste. This, however, disappears when the fruit becomes fully matured.

It is generally thought that the fruit of the Persimmon is not palatable
until there has been a frost. Regarding this supposition Dr. L. H.
Bailey says: “The old notion of early botanists that this fruit must be
subjected to the action of frost before it becomes edible is erroneous.
Many of the very best varieties ripen long before the appearance of
frost, while others never become edible, being so exceedingly astringent
that neither sun nor frost has any appreciable effect on them.” This
fruit, so popular in the localities where it grows, was not unknown to
the natives who traversed the wild woods before the time of the early
explorations and conquests of America. A narrative of De Soto’s travels
relates that his men, who were camping at a native town “halfe a league
from Rio Grande” (Mississippi River) found the river “almost halfe a
league broad and of great depth,” and that the natives brought to them
“loaves made of the substance of prunes, like unto brickes.” These
loaves were made of dried Persimmons, possibly, mixed with some
pulverized grain. At the present time, in some southern localities, the
fruit is not infrequently kneaded with bran or ground cereals, molded
and baked.

                       [Illustration: PERSIMMONS.
                        (Diospyros virginiana).
                              Life-size.]




                           AS TO ALLIGATORS.


The alligator generally impresses the mind as a reptile so dangerous
that he should be given a wide berth on any and all occasions, yet it is
really peaceable and harmless unless aroused to the defensive.

Anywhere south of the Mason and Dixon line, among the rivers, lakes and
marshes, are found the alligators, but Florida, because of its great
area of such places which the alligator delights in, may almost be
termed the home of the alligator.

In traveling through the dense hammocks, where for miles and miles the
sun scarcely penetrates through the heavy timber and the rank vegetation
beneath, one may often meet with the huge saurian as he travels from one
cave or mud hole to another. Tease or wound him, and he will show fight,
and woe to him who then comes within reach of his vengeance. And it
matters little to him with which end he must fight. He can crush equally
well with his tail as with his jaws—or, to end the matter more speedily,
he may use both. But if you go on about your business his ’gator-ship
will do the same, and not notice you so much as ever to wink. Come upon
him as he is lying asleep or sunning himself on a mud bank, if he is
aroused and finds you between himself and the river he will sweep you
aside as you yourself would a fly from the sugar bowl, and then slide
into his native element, and he does this so quickly as to allow you
little time to explain that you just happened there and had no designs
on him whatever.

At other times you might think you are stepping out onto a sunken log
imbedded in the mud, but find that the log suddenly gets very much
alive, for under that slimy mud and grass an alligator was taking a sitz
bath. You might have walked all around him with impunity, but walking on
him is an indignity he resents quickly—so quickly that it is a question
whether you get back to safety or are served up for the alligator’s
dinner. Sometimes you may see an alligator lying motionless just under
the surface of the water, with his long snout protruding. His jaws are
open far enough to allow the flow of the current through them, and when
a stray fish or other tid-bit comes along with that flow, the jaws snap
down on it. He can be seen keeping his trap thus set for hours at a
time. Should you row near in order to watch him, he will not seem to pay
the least attention to you if you behave yourself; but if you drop an
oar or shout at him he will drop down out of sight and lie low waiting
to see what you are really up to. Now, if you will remain perfectly
quiet as to motion, but will imitate the barking of a puppy, the
squealing of a pig, or the caw of a crow, although there was not an
alligator in sight, you will soon see several snouts appear, and
gradually, if you keep up the call, the alligators will come near and
nearer, in curiosity as to what the call means. A half dozen or more
will be nosing about the boat, and you have a good chance to observe
them closely—if your nerves can stand it. This sport is exceedingly
dangerous, for if the boat should bump an alligator on the nose,
straightway all would make common cause and reduce the offending boat
into splinters; and that the occupant of the boat should escape would be
next to impossible.

When the female alligator wishes to build her nest, she selects a dry
place, open to the rays of the sun, yet near to water. She commences her
nest by scraping together a lot of dry leaves, grass or other trash,
until she has a round, compact bed as large as a cartwheel. On this she
deposits her eggs. This done, she proceeds to cover them up by going
round and round the nest and, with her body pushing more leaves and
trash over the eggs. A well made nest is of the shape of a hay-cock, and
very nearly so large. The nest completed, the alligator goes off to the
nearby water, and leaves the sun to do the hatching. Many differ as to
the time it takes for the eggs to hatch, as much depends on the
construction of the nest, and also on the heat of the sun. So, also,
many differ as to the number of eggs a female will lay in one season.
Some aver that eighty is the average number, but the writer has never
found more than forty in one nest.

Alligator eggs are white, oblong in shape, about three inches and a half
in length, and have a ring around the middle. When first hatched the
little fellows are red and black spotted and striped. They are
exceedingly lively, and, as soon as hatched, make straight for the
water—apparently in search of the protecting care of their mammy—but
they often come back to sun themselves about the old nest.

The male alligator is a cannibal, and will eat his own young if he finds
them. For this reason the female selects a place far from the usual
haunts of her spouse when she prepares for maternal cares by building
her nest. And she stays with her babies until she thinks they are
capable of wiggling away from dangers themselves.

When in Florida many of the winter tourists secure these little
alligators and take them North to keep them as pets. As they are
exceedingly slow in growing, they make “little” and “cunning” pets for
many years. When they get to be “big fellows,” they had best be
dispensed with.

Although the alligator has long been considered one of the despised
species of animals, or reptiles, it is far from being a useless
one—though its use is only practical after it has been killed. One may
say that there is no good alligator but a dead one, but one may qualify
the remark by adding that the dead one is very good, indeed, for
commercial purposes.

There is a great demand for alligator hides, and good prices are being
paid for them. Consequently the hunting of alligators for the sake of
their hides, and the preparing of them for shipment is a profitable
industry. Then the tanning of these hides and, finally, the making of
the leather into trunks, valises, purses, etc., makes three distinct
industries due to the alligators.

Those making a business of hunting alligators generally take the night
time for it, and the darker the night, the better.

Two men, provided with a light, easy-going skiff, a good rifle, an ax,
and a bull’s eye lantern fastened to the forehead of one of the hunters,
start out together. One man—the one with the lantern—sits in the bow of
the boat; it is his business to “shine the eyes” of any alligator who
might come within the radius of the light. The eyes of the game will
shine like two balls of fire, and if the man is careful to make no
unnecessary movements, and his partner is careful to scull the boat
steadily and silently, they can get so near the game as to almost touch
it.

The man in the bow holds, from the very start, the rifle ready for a
quick shot. This shot comes so suddenly and so unexpectedly to the
alligator, that, quick as he generally is, he falls a prey to his
prolonged curiosity as to the nature of that approaching light.

The hunters must be so expert at their trade that as soon as the shot
has been fired the man who did the shooting must lean over and grasp the
alligator by the tail, pull him half way over the gunnel of the boat and
hold him there for the quick cut with the ax in the back, which his
partner must be, by this time, prepared to strike. All this is done far
quicker than it can be told; so quickly is it done that often the
alligator is killed by the ax only, and it is found that the bullet had
never struck him, and he had only been either stunned, or so demoralized
as to forget his own power.

This cut in the back, severing the vertebrae, places the alligator
entirely hors de combat. There is even no flopping about in the bottom
of the boat where he is then thrown. Now the hunters are ready to
proceed on to their next capture.

The morning generally finds the hunters with their boat loaded, and they
are glad of a short rest and—breakfast. There then remains but the task
of skinning their game and salting the hides down in barrels, ready for
shipment.

                                                        Leo L. Stratner.

                       [Illustration: DANDELION.
                         (Taraxacum taraxacum).
                    FROM TRIMEN’S MEDICINAL PLANTS.]




                               DANDELION.
                     (_Taraxacum taraxacum_ Karst.)


  You are bilious, my good man. Go and pay a guinea to one of the
  doctors in those houses.... He will prescribe taraxacum for you, or
  pil. hydrarg.—Thackeray, Philip, ii.

Dandelion is a perennial herb thoroughly familiar to everyone, as it is
found almost everywhere throughout all temperate and north temperate
countries. It has a basal tuft of rather large, spatulate to lanceolate,
deeply incised leaves. There are several slender, cylindrical, hollow
stalks, six to twelve inches long, each one ending in a bright yellow
flower head with numerous small flowers. The fully matured fruits form a
white, fluffy head and are easily removed and scattered by air currents.
Each fruit is a miniature parachute and every child has blown upon the
fruit head and watched the individual fruits sail for great distances,
suspended in air by the parachute-like expansion of the pappus. Roots
are quite large, branching, rather fleshy. The plant contains a milky
juice, having a bitter taste.

The Dandelion is said to be a native of Greece, southern Europe and Asia
Minor. It has spread very rapidly and widely via the commercial routes.
It has become thoroughly naturalized in the United States and Canada,
forming the most conspicuous plant in farmyards, along roadsides,
meadows, pastures and in orchards. Flowers are matured throughout the
entire season, but chiefly in the spring and again in the late summer or
early autumn. The plant belongs to the same family as the sunflower,
daisy, goldenrod and iron weed.

Dandelion has been used medicinally for many centuries, and the name is
derived from the Latin dens leonis, meaning lion’s tooth, referring to
the incised leaves. Theophrastus described the plant and lauded it very
highly in the treatment of liver complaints and for freckles. Later
(980-1037 A. D.) Arabian physicians employed it very extensively,
principally in jaundice and other liver complaints. During the middle
ages the milky juice of this plant was highly recommended in the
treatment of diseases of the eye. During the sixteenth century European
physicians found it useful as a quieting and sleep-producing remedy.

The poor of nearly all countries collect the young, crisp leaves in the
early spring and prepare therefrom a salad, resembling lettuce salad.
The poor in large cities visit vacant lots, in which the plants usually
grow abundantly, and collect the leaves for home consumption, or fill
large, often dirty, sacks, and vend it among the poor tenement dwellers.
This is certainly a dangerous procedure, as all manner of dirt and
disease germs are found on the leaves, to say nothing of dirty hands,
utensils and containers of the collectors. No doubt many a case of
typhoid fever or other germ disease among the poor could be traced to
this source. In country districts there is little danger connected with
eating Dandelion leaves, and they really form a good, palatable salad
when properly prepared.

The leaves are also cooked, usually with leaves of other plants (species
of chenopodium), forming “greens,” highly relished by the poor. The
American Indians as well as savages of other countries eat large
quantities of the leaves raw, more rarely cooked. In Germany and other
European countries the roots are collected, dried, roasted and used as a
substitute for coffee.

The principal use of this plant has thus far been medicinal, but its
value as a curative agent has certainly been overrated. It has been used
in dropsy, pulmonary diseases, in stomach derangements, in hepatic or
liver disorders, in icterus, blotchy skin and other skin diseases, for
biliary calculi, in hypochondriasis, etc. It has no marked curative
properties in any disorder. Beyond mildly laxative and tonic properties
it has no effect whatever. Using taraxacum preparations for a
considerable length of time causes digestive disorders, mental
excitement, vertigo, coated tongue and nausea.

In lawns the plant proves a great nuisance, as it displaces the grass,
and it is difficult to exterminate. The plants must be dug up, roots and
all, carted away and burned. This should be done early, before the seeds
are sufficiently mature to germinate. For medicinal use the roots are
gathered in March, July and November, cleaned, the larger roots cut
longitudinally, dried and packed to be shipped to points of consumption.
The juice expressed from the fresh roots is also used.

                                                       Albert Schneider.




                        FROM SPRING TO RIVULET.


  Still dances the brook with its murmurs gay,
  Down through the woods and under the way,
  Splashing o’er rocks,—through meadow agleam,
  To lose itself in the larger stream.
  It passes a laugh with ferns that peer
  To see their forms in its waters clear;
  It meets a rock, and dashes spray
  At moss and lichens that light its gray;
  And yet, as it nears where violets hide
  ’Neath soughing pines, its waters glide
  With hardly a sound, lest the tender flower
  Should feel, in its haste, too hard a shower.
  But ever it sings, be it night or day,
  Year after year, in the selfsame way,
      “Here I tinkle, and there I dash,
      I ripple, I murmur, I gaily splash;
      Such a mad, such a glad little brook am I,
      Singing along ’neath a summer sky!”

  But just as gay as it is in June
  Is the brook as it sings its winter tune.
  Jack Frost makes his call,—and droop the ferns;
  Again and again the sprite returns,
  Till over the pool beneath the pines
  A magical covering gleams and shines.
  Now hide and seek does the brooklet play,
  For it dashes forth once more on its way,
  Again to be hidden beneath the snow,
  That gives no hint of the songster below.
  But the grand old trees that love it well,
  And the winter bird,—they both can tell
  That ever it sings, as it sang of old,
  When winds are bleak and days are cold,
      “Here I tinkle, and there I dash,
      I ripple, I murmur, I gaily splash;
      Such a mad, such a glad little brook am I,
      Singing along when snowflakes fly!”
                                                       —Grace E. Harlow.




                                 INDEX
          Volume XII—June, 1902, to December, 1902, inclusive.


                                                                    PAGE

                                   A
  Alligators, As to, Leo L. Stratner, 231
  Animal’s Fair, The, Mary McCrae Culter, 65, 101
  Amber. (Illustration) Oliver Cummings Farrington, 125
  Argynis, A New, (Illustration) Wilmatte Porter Cockerell, 83
  Autumn, The, (Poem) Grace Wickham Curran, 132

                                   B
  Bat, My, Martha R. Fitch, 181
  Billie Came Back, When, (The Story of a Flicker) Rowland Watts,
          185
  Bird and the Mouse, The, Katharine Pope, 68
  Bird Life, Tragedy in, George Klingle, 161
  Bird of Peace, The, Belle Paxson Drury, 109
  Bird of Superstition, The, Belle Paxson Drury, 91
  Bird Tenants, Building for, Lee McCrae, 152
  Bird, The Celestial, Belle Paxson Drury, 164
  Bird Wonders, Some, L. Philo Venen, 168
  Birdland, A Bit of Fiction From, Sara Elizabeth Graves, 12
  Birds, Character in, Louise Claude, 113
  Birds, Incidents About, E. E. Lockwood, 198
  Birds of Promise. Alberta Field, 220
  Birds, To the, (Poem) Henry Johnstone, 5
  Bread, Peculiar Mexican, Louise Jamison, 121
  Brook, The, (Poem) Alfred Tennyson, 144
  Butterfly. (Poem) C. V. Riley, 182
  Butterfly. (Poem) M. D. Tolman, 38
  Butterfly, The Leaf, (Illustration), 114

                                   C
  Canary, How a Cat Saved the Life of a, Mary Catherine Judd, 222
  Carnation, The, (Illustration) Charles S. Raddin, 216
  Cherry and I. (Poem) Elizabeth Walling, 32
  Cherry, The, (Illustration) Albert Schneider, 95
  Chickadee, The Carolina, (Illustration) J. Rollin Slonaker, 14
  Chuck-will’s-widow, The, (Illustration), 201
  Circus, An Amateur, Paul Brenton Eliot, 202
  Comptie. Mary Stratner, 187
  Corundum and Spinel. Oliver Cummings Farrington, 207
  Cottage by the Wood, The, Berton Mercer, 80
  Cowries and Shell Money, The, (Illustration) Frank Collins Baker,
          86
  Curlew, The Long-billed, (Illustration), 59

                                   D
  Damsel Fly, The, Alvin M. Hendee, 73
  Dandelion. (Illustration) Albert Schneider, 235
  Day, A, (Poem) Lucia Belle Cook, 104
  December. (Poem) Joel Benton, 193
  Dells, The Wisconsin, (Poem) Illyria Turner, 91
  Diamond, The, (Illustration) Oliver Cummings Farrington, 170
  Dick. (The Story of a Dog) Katharine Watkins Lawson, 17
  Dixie-Land, Down in, Lee McCrae, 180
  Dogs, Some, Alvin M. Hendee, 120

                                   E
  Egg Plant. (Illustration) Albert Schneider, 191

                                   F
  Family, A Happy, L. Philo Venen, 72
  Feldspar. (Illustration) Oliver Cummings Farrington, 74
  Fig Tree’s Family History, Mrs., Karrie King, 150
  Finch, A Pretty House, Leander S. Keyser, 24
  Fire-weed or Great Willow Herb, The, (Illustration), 38
  Fisherman, The Feathered, Walter Cummings Butterworth, 215
  Flicker, A Story of, (When Billie Came Back) Rowland Watts, 185
  Flycatcher, The Green-crested, (Illustration), 110

                                   G
  Geysers, Springs and Artesian Wells. (Illustration) M. S. Hall, 26
  Goldfinch, The Arkansas, (Illustration), 158

                                   I
  Indian Summer. (Poem) M. D. Tolman, 176

                                   J
  June. (Sonnet) Helen Hunt Jackson, 1
  June, The Way of, (Poem) _Pall Mall Gazette_, 1

                                   K
  Kinsman, Our, (Poem) Mrs. Merrill E. Gates, 56
  Kite, The Everglade, (Illustration), 62
  Kite, The Swallow-tailed, (Illustration), 2

                                   L
  Lady-birds, Where We Found the, Mary Catherine Judd, 31
  Lake, Sabbath by the, (Poem) Carrie B. Sanborn, 149
  Lapis Lazuli. (Illustration) Oliver Cummings Farrington, 122
  Leaves, The Light of the, (Poem) Cora May Cratty, 152
  Leucosticte, The Gray-Crowned. (Illustration), 204

                                   M
  Malachite. (Illustration) Oliver Cummings Farrington, 127
  Moth and Its Methods, The Clothes. Louise Jamison, 197
  Moth, The Atlas, (Illustration), 182
  Mouse, The Bird and the, Katharine Pope, 68
  Mystery, A, (Poem) Edward O. Jackson, 192

                                   N
  Nasturtiums. (Poem) Lulu Whedon Mitchell, 96
  Nature’s Glory. (Poem) J. Mayne Baltimore, 121
  November. Belle A. Hitchcock, 157
  November. (Poem) C. L. Cleavland, 145

                                   O
  Oriole, The Hooded. (Illustration), 194
  Oriole’s Mission, The. (Poem) Christine B. Moray, 197
  Ousel, The Water, J. Mayne Baltimore, 42
  Outings, Old-fashioned, Helen Mansfield, 6, 53
  Owl, The Great Gray, (Illustration), 107

                                   P
  Peach Tree Stump, A Prolific, Addie L. Booker, 84
  Persimmon, The. (Illustration), 228
  Pink, The Sea or Marsh, (Illustration), 41
  Plover, The Black-bellied, (Illustration), 167
  Poem. (Selected) Alice Carey, 48
  Poem. (Selected) Celia Thaxter, 49
  Poem. (Selected) J. S. Cutler, 23
  Poem. (Selected) MacDonald, 61
  Poem. (Selected) Mrs. Barbauld, 83
  Poem. (Selected) Sidney Lanier, 116
  Poem. (Selected) Swinburne, 98
  Poem. (Selected) William Cullen Bryant, 191

                                   R
  Rats, The Pocket. (Illustration), 225
  River Path, The, (Poem) Frank Farrington, 188

                                   S
  Sabbath by the Lake. (Poem) Carrie B. Sanborn, 149
  September. (Sonnet) Helen Hunt Jackson, 49
  Snails of the Ocean, Some, (Illustration) Frank Collins Baker, 134
  Snowstorm, After the, (Poem) Mary Grant O’Sheridan, 214
  Sparrow, The Grasshopper, (Illustration), 71
  Sparrow, The White-Crowned. (Illustration), 213
  Spinel, Corundum and. Oliver Cummings Farrington, 207
  Spring to Rivulet, From. (Poem) Grace E. Harlow, 236
  Springs, Geysers and Artesian Wells. (Illustration) M. S. Hall, 26
  Starfishes. (Illustration) Frank Collins Baker, 35
  Starling, The, (Illustration), 155
  Summer Acquaintances, My, Ellen Hampton Dick, 108
  Summer Night, My, (Poem) Willis Edwin Hurd, 92
  Sun-bird, The Philippine, (Illustration), 98
  Sunrise Club, Join a, Roselle Theodore Cross, 140
  Swallow, The Violet-green (Illustration), 23

                                   T
  Thrush, The Alice’s, (Illustration), 11
  Thrush, The Louisiana Water, (Illustration), 116
  Thrush’s Solo, The, (Poem) Mrs. A. S. Hardy, 25
  Toads, The Horned, (Illustration), 179
  Tobacco. (Illustration) Albert Schneider, 43
  Tomato, The, (Illustration) Albert Schneider, 143

                                   V
  Vines, Beautiful, to be Found in Our Wild Woods. J. O. Cochran,
          133, 186, 227

                                   W
  Warbler, The Palm, (Illustration), 50
  Willow-herb, The Fireweed or Great, (Illustration), 38
  Wings, On Jewelled, Claudia May Ferrin, 60
  Wings, The Life of Airy, M. Evelyn Lincoln, 162
  Winter-Piece Among the Pentlands, A. (Poem) Henry Johnstone, 215
  Winter Song. (Poem) Frank Farrington, 219
  Winter Visitors. Caroline Parker, 226
  Wood Harmony, The, (Poem) Frank Walcott Hutt, 79
  Woodpecker, The Pileated, (Illustration), 146
  Woods, Autumn, (Poem) William Cullen Bryant, 97
  World, The, (Poem) John Greenleaf Whittier, 41




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  1 Nonpareil.
  2 Resplendent Trogon.
  3 Mandarin Duck.
  4 Golden Pheasant.
  5 Australian Parrakeet.
  6 Cock of the Rock.
  7 Red Bird of Paradise.
  8 Yellow-throated Toucan.
  9 Red-rumped Tanager.
  10 Golden Oriole.
  11 American Blue Jay.
  12 Swallow-tailed Indian Roller.
  13 Red-headed Woodpecker.
  14 Mexican Mot Mot.
  15 King Parrot.
  16 American Robin.
  17 American Kingfisher.
  18 Blue-mountain Lory.
  19 Red-winged Blackbird.
  20 Cardinal, or Red Bird.
  21 Bluebird.
  22 Barn Swallow.
  23 Brown Thrasher.
  24 Japan Pheasant.
  25 Bobolink.
  26 American Crow.
  27 Flicker.
  28 Black Tern.
  29 Meadow Lark.
  30 Great Horned Owl.
  31 Rose-breasted Grosbeak.
  32 Canada Jay.
  33 Purple Gallinule.
  34 Smith’s Longspur.
  35 American Red Crossbills.
  36 California Woodpecker.
  37 Pied-billed Grebe.
  38 Bohemian Waxwing.
  39 Long-billed Marsh Wren.
  40 Arizona Jay.
  41 Screech Owl.
  42 Orchard Oriole.
  43 Marsh Hawk.
  44 Scissor-tailed Flycatcher.
  45 Black-capped Chickadee.
  46 Prothonotary Warbler.
  47 Indigo Bird.
  48 Night Hawk.
  49 Wood Thrush.
  50 Catbird.
  51 Yellow-throated Vireo.
  52 American Mockingbird.
  53 Black-crowned Night Heron.
  54 Ring-billed Gull.
  55 Logger-head Shrike.
  56 Baltimore Oriole.
  57 Snowy Owl.
  58 Scarlet Tanager.
  59 Ruffed Grouse.
  60 Black and White Creeping Warbler.
  61 American Bald Eagle.
  62 Ring Plover.
  63 Mallard Duck.
  64 American Avocet.
  65 Canvas-back Duck.
  66 Wood Duck.
  67 Anhinga, or Snake Bird.
  68 American Woodcock.
  69 White-winged Scoter.
  70 Snowy Heron, or Little Egret.
  71 Osprey.
  72 Sora Rail.
  73 Kentucky Warbler.
  74 Red-breasted Merganser.
  75 Yellow Legs.
  76 Skylark.
  77 Wilson’s Phalarope.
  78 Evening Grosbeak.
  79 Turkey Vulture.
  80 Gambel’s Partridge.
  81 Summer Yellow Bird.
  82 Hermit Thrush.
  83 Song Sparrow.
  84 Yellow-billed Cuckoo.
  85 Ruby-throated Hummingbird.
  86 House Wren.
  87 Phœbe.
  88 Ruby-crowned Kinglet.
  89 Mourning Dove.
  90 White-breasted Nuthatch.
  91 Blackburnian Warbler.
  92 Gold Finch.
  93 Chimney Swift.
  94 Horned Lark.
  95 Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.
  96 Warbling Vireo.
  97 Wood Pewee.
  98 Snow Bunting.
  99 Junco.
  100 Kingbird.
  101 Summer Tanager.
  102 White-fronted Goose.
  103 Turnstone.
  104 Belted Piping Plover.
  105 Wild Turkey.
  106 Cerulean Warbler.
  107 Yellow-billed Tropic Bird.
  108 European Kingfisher.
  109 Vermillion Flycatcher.
  110 Lazuli Bunting.
  111 Mountain Bluebird.
  112 English Sparrow.
  113 Allen’s Hummingbird.
  114 Green-winged Teal.
  115 Black Grouse.
  116 Flamingo.
  117 Verdin.
  118 Bronzed Grackle.
  119 Ring-necked Pheasant.
  120 Yellow-breasted Chat.
  121 Crowned Pigeon.
  122 Red-eyed Vireo.
  123 Fox Sparrow.
  124 Bob-white.
  125 Passenger Pigeon.
  126 Short-eared Owl.
  127 Rose Cockatoo.
  128 Mountain Partridge.
  129 Least Bittern.
  130 Bald Pate Duck.
  131 Purple Finch.
  132 Red-bellied Woodpecker.
  133 Saw-whet Owl.
  134 Black Swan.
  135 Snowy Plover.
  136 Lesser Prairie Hen.
  137 Black Duck.
  138 Wilson’s Petrel.
  139 Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher.
  140 American Coot.
  141 Ivory-billed Woodpecker.
  142 American Sparrow Hawk.
  143 Silver Pheasant.
  144 Scaled Partridge.
  145 Ovenbird.
  146 American Three-toed Woodpecker.
  147 Bartramian Sandpiper.
  148 Nightingale.
  149 Roseate Spoonbill.
  150 Dickcissel.
  151 Dusky Grouse.
  152 Eggs, First Series.
  153 South American Rhea.
  154 Bay-breasted Warbler.
  155 Black-necked Stilt.
  156 Pintail Duck.
  157 Double Yellow-headed Parrot.
  158 Magnolia Warbler.
  159 Great Blue Heron.
  160 Eggs, Second Series.
  161 Brunnich’s Murre.
  162 Canada Goose.
  163 Brown Creeper.
  164 Downy Woodpecker.
  165 Old Squaw Duck.
  166 White-faced Glossy Ibis.
  167 Arkansas Kingbird.
  168 Eggs, Third Series.
  169 Wilson’s Snipe.
  170 Black Wolf.
  171 Red Squirrel.
  172 Prairie Hen.
  173 Butterflies, First Series.
  174 Gray Rabbit.
  175 American Ocelot.
  176 Apple Blossoms.
  177 Wilson’s Tern.
  178 Coyote.
  179 Fox Squirrel.
  180 Loon.
  181 Butterflies, Second Series.
  182 American Red Fox.
  183 Least Sandpiper.
  184 Mountain Sheep.
  185 American Herring Gull.
  186 Raccoon.
  187 Pigmy Antelope.
  188 Red-shouldered Hawk.
  189 Butterflies, Third Series.
  190 American Gray Fox.
  191 Gray Squirrel.
  192 Pectoral Sandpiper.
  193 King Bird of Paradise.
  194 Peccary.
  195 Bottle-nosed Dolphin.
  196 Tufted Puffin.
  197 Butterflies, Fourth Series.
  198 Armadillo.
  199 Red-headed Duck.
  200 Golden Rod.
  201 Prairie Sharp-tailed Grouse.
  202 Brown and Red Bat.
  203 American Otter.
  204 American Golden Plover.
  205 Moths.
  206 Canadian Porcupine.
  207 Caspian Tern.
  208 Flowering Almond.
  209 African Lion.
  210 Cacti.
  211 Flying Squirrel.
  212 Hummingbirds.
  213 Silkworm.
  214 California Vulture.
  215 American Goldeneye.
  216 Skunk.
  217 Chimpanzee.
  218 Puma.
  219 Medicinal Plant: Lemon.
  220 American Mistletoe.
  221 Nuts.
  222 Whippoorwill.
  223 Snapping Turtle.
  224 Sandhill Crane.
  225 Medicinal Plant: Ginger.
  226 Crab-eating Opossum.
  227 Geographic Turtle.
  228 White Ibis.
  229 Iris.
  230 Duck-billed Platypus.
  231 Cape May Warbler.
  232 The Cocoanut.
  233 Tufted Titmouse.
  234 Northern Hare.
  235 Pineapple.
  236 Hooded Merganser.
  237 Medicinal Plant: Cloves.
  238 Common Ground Hog.
  239 Common Mole.
  240 Azalea.
  241 Medicinal Plant: Nutmeg.
  242 American Barn Owl.
  243 Kangaroo.
  244 Hoary Bat.
  245 Nashville Warbler.
  246 English Grapes.
  247 Swift Fox.
  248 Hyacinth.
  249 Cedar Waxwing.
  250 Hyrax.
  251 Medicinal Plant: Coffee.
  252 Bonaparte’s Gull.
  253 Common Baboon.
  254 Grinnell’s Water Thrush.
  255 Hairy-tailed Mole.
  256 Cineraria.
  257 A Feather Changing from Green to Yellow.
  258 Western Yellow-throat.
  259 Myrtle Warbler.
  260 Blue-winged Yellow Warbler.
  261 Golden-winged Warbler.
  262 Mourning Warbler.
  263 Chestnut-sided Warbler.
  264 Black-throated Blue Warbler.
  265 Pointer Dog.
  266 Shells.
  267 Marbles.
  268 Ores.
  269 Minerals.
  270 Water Lilies.
  271 Yellow Perch.
  272 Beetles.
  273 Forests.
  274 Grand Canon.
  275 Terraced Rocks, Yellowstone Park.
  276 Rooster and Hen.
  277 Oil Well.
  278 Polished Woods.
  279 Brook Trout.
  280 Niagara Falls.
  281 Purple Ladies’ Slipper.
  282 Medicinal Plant; Tea.
  283 Towhee.
  284 Canary.
  285 Carolina Paroquet.
  286 Chipmunk.
  287 Peach.
  288 Common Minerals and Valuable Ores.
  289 Narcissus.
  290 Medicinal Plant: Coca.
  291 Red-tailed Hawk.
  292 Maryland Yellow-throat.
  293 Lyre Bird.
  294 Cowbird.
  295 Wild Cat.
  296 European Squirrel.
  297 Virginia Rail.
  298 Blue-winged Teal.
  299 Yellow-headed Blackbird.
  300 Black Squirrel.
  301 Weasel (Ermine).
  302 Medicinal Plant; Quince.
  303 Quartz.
  304 Lily of the Valley.
  305 Killdeer.
  306 Cinnamon Teal.
  307 Clapper Rail.
  308 Gopher.
  309 Mink.
  310 Carbons.
  311 Medicinal Plant; Licorice.
  312 Yellow Ladies’ Slipper and Painted Cup.
  313 Peacock.
  314 Willow Ptarmigan.
  315 Steller’s Jay.
  316 Ruddy Duck.
  317 Muskrat.
  318 Medicinal Plant; Poppy.
  319 Primrose.
  320 Copper and Lead Ores.
  321 American Bittern.
  322 Scarlet Ibis.
  323 Massena Partridge.
  324 Ring-billed Duck.
  325 Medicinal Plant; Thyme.
  326 Bloodroot.
  327 Western Blue Grosbeak.
  328 Shells.
  329 Magpie.
  330 Red-breasted Nut-hatch.
  331 Purple Martin.
  332 Ring-necked Dove.
  333 Opossum.
  334 Genista.
  335 Medicinal Plant; Digitalis.
  336 Raven.
  337 Wilson’s Thrush.
  338 Red or Wood Lily.
  339 Common Sunfish.
  340 A Mountain River.
  341 Insects.
  342 Brittany—(Cows).
  343 Harvesting in the Great Northwest.
  344 Homing Pigeon.
  345 Swamp Rose Mallow.
  346 Yellow Ladies’ Slipper.
  347 New England Aster. Late Purple Aster.
  348 Wild Yellow or Canadian Lily.
  349 Vesper Sparrow.
  350 Calico Bass.
  351 Mountain Lake.
  352 Fruit: Banana.
  353 Oswego Tea or Bee Balm.
  354 Fringed Gentian. Closed or Blind Gentian.
  355 Tall or Giant Sunflower. Black-eyed Susan or Oxeye Daisy.
  356 Wild Columbine.
  357 American Redstart.
  358 Trout.
  359 Ocean Waves.
  360 Domestic Fowls.
  361 Western Willet.
  362 Buffle-Head.
  363 American Eared Grebe.
  364 Louisiana Tanager.
  365 Luna and Polyphemus Moths.
  366 Prong-horned Antelope.
  367 Sensitive Plant.
  368 Medicinal Plant; Almond.
  369 Western Horned Owl.
  370 Long-crested Jay.
  371 Fulvous Tree-duck.
  372 Red-breasted Sapsucker.
  373 Promethean and Secropian Moths.
  374 Irish Setter.
  375 Pitcher Plant (Nepenthes).
  376 Medicinal Plant; Mandrake.
  377 Hawk Owl.
  378 Knot or Robin Snipe.
  379 White-winged Crossbill.
  380 Townsend’s Warbler.
  381 Water Shells.
  382 Collared Lizard.
  383 Fruit: Apple.
  384 Medicinal Plant; Vanilla.
  385 American Rough-legged and Young Red-tailed Hawks.
  386 Short-billed Dowitcher.
  387 Great-tailed Grackle.
  388 Hooded Warbler.
  389 Land Shells.
  390 Gila Monster.
  391 Medicinal Plant; Cassia Cinnamon.
  392 Fruit: Pomegranate.
  393 Owl Parrot.
  394 Gray Parrot.
  395 White Pelican.
  396 Marbled Murrelet.
  397 Black Bear.
  398 Pond and River Shells.
  399 Fruit: Orange.
  400 Medicinal Plant; Pepper.
  401 Crested Curassow.
  402 Harlequin Duck.
  403 Canada Grouse.
  404 Dovekie.
  405 Beaver.
  406 Marine Shells.
  407 Fruit: Lemon.
  408 Medicinal Plant: Cubebs.
  409 Audubon’s Oriole.
  410 Marbled Godwit.
  411 Rusty Blackbird or Grackle.
  412 Surf Scoter.
  413 American Elk.
  414 Nautilus Shells.
  415 Flowers: Mountain Laurel. Trailing Arbutus.
  416 Medicinal Plant: Hops.
  417 Bullock’s Oriole.
  418 Sanderling.
  419 Great Northern Shrike.
  420 Brandt’s Cormorant.
  421 Buffalo.
  422 Agates.
  423 Flowers: Great Mullein. Moth Mullein.
  424 Medicinal Plant: Cocoa Fruit.
  425 Anna’s Hummingbird.
  426 Rufous Hummingbird.
  427 White-throated Sparrow.
  428 Parula Warbler.
  429 Tourmaline.
  430 Indian Elephant.
  431 Walrus.
  432 Bengal Tiger.
  433 Yellow-bellied Flycatcher.
  434 Olive-sided Flycatcher.
  435 Tree Sparrow.
  436 Black-throated Green Warbler.
  437 Beryl.
  438 African Lion.
  439 Alaskan Moose.
  440 Polar Bear.
  441 Pine Grosbeak.
  442 Field Sparrow
  443 Carolina Wren.
  444 Black-poll Warbler.
  445 Turquois.
  446 Striped Hyena.
  447 Giraffe.
  448 Miriki Spider Monkey.
  449 White-eyed Vireo.
  450 Rivoli Hummingbird.
  451 Worm-eating Warbler.
  452 Chipping Sparrow.
  453 Topaz.
  454 Rhesus Monkey.
  455 Asiatic or Bactrian Camel.
  456 Zebra.
  457 Golden-crowned Kinglet.
  458 King Rail.
  459 Brown-headed Nuthatch.
  460 Sharp-shinned Hawk.
  461 Quartz.
  462 Greenland Whale.
  463 Bur or Spear Thistle and Pasture or Fragrant Thistle.
  464 Irish Moss.
  465 Blue-headed Vireo.
  466 California Thrasher.
  467 Broad-tailed Hummingbird.
  468 Broad-winged Hawk.
  469 Quartz.
  470 Domestic Cat.
  471 Soapwort or Bouncing Bet and Snake-head or Turtle-head.
  472 Sugar Cane.
  473 Winter Wren.
  474 Leconte’s Sparrow.
  475 Northern Phalarope.
  476 Hairy Woodpecker.
  477 Opal.
  478 Purple Violet and Hepatica.
  479 Sheep.
  480 English Walnut.
  481 Black-chinned Hummingbird.
  482 Burrowing Owl.
  483 Audubon’s Warbler.
  484 Red-backed Sandpiper.
  485 Garnet.
  486 Black Cohosh and Arrow Head.
  487 Cows.
  488 Sweet Flag.
  489 Green Heron.
  490 Varied Thrush.
  491 Short-billed Marsh Wren.
  492 Prairie Warbler.
  493 Birth Stones.
  494 Horse.
  495 Robin’s Plantain and Blue Vervain.
  496 Medicinal Plant: Cotton.
  497 Swallow-tailed Kite.
  498 Alice’s Thrush.
  499 Carolina Chickadee.
  500 Violet-green Swallow.
  501 Starfish.
  502 “Old Faithful” Geyser.
  503 Sea or Marsh Pink and Fire-weed.
  504 Medicinal Plant: Tobacco.
  505 Palm Warbler.
  506 Long-billed Curlew.
  507 Everglade Kite.
  508 Grasshopper Sparrow.
  509 Feldspar.
  510 Silver-spot Butterfly.
  511 Cowry Shells.
  512 Fruit: Cherries.
  513 Philippine Yellow-breasted Sun-bird.
  514 Great Gray Owl.
  515 Green-crested Flycatcher.
  516 Louisiana Water-thrush.
  517 Amber.
  518 Leaf Butterfly.
  519 Snails of the Ocean.
  520 Fruit: Tomatoes.
  521 Pileated Woodpecker.
  522 Starling.
  523 Arkansas Goldfinch.
  524 Black-bellied Plover.
  525 Diamond and Sapphire in Matrix.
  526 Horned Toads.
  527 Moth (Attacus atlas).
  528 Fruit: Egg Plant.
  529 Hooded Oriole.
  530 Chuck-will’s-widow.
  531 Gray-crowned Leucosticte.
  532 White-crowned Sparrow.
  533 Carnations.
  534 Kangaroo Mouse.
  535 Fruit: Persimmons.
  536 Medicinal Plant; Dandelion.


    A SET INCLUDING ONE OF EACH OF THE ABOVE 536 PICTURES FOR $5.36.
        Order some of these Pictures for Bird Day and Arbor Day.

                       A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER,
                      203 Michigan Ave., Chicago.


                             TESTIMONIAL OF
                       BIRDS AND NATURE PICTURES
                            536—2 Cents Each

We have been supplying some of these pictures to the _Chicago Tribune_
for supplements. On the editorial page of the _Tribune_, Sunday issue,
May 11, 1902, appeared a letter from one of the _Tribune’s_ subscribers,
containing the following sentences:

  “To-day’s Passenger Pigeon is something which will rejoice the heart
  of every bird lover. In fidelity to life the picture cannot be
  surpassed.”




               TYPICAL FOREST TREES in PHOTOGRAVURE 9×12


  First Series.
    1. Black Oak.
    2. White Pine.
    3. American Elm.
    4. Lombardy Poplar.
    5. Tamarack.
    6. Soft Maple.
    8. White Birch.

  Second Series.
    1. Red Oak.
    2. Silver Leaf Poplar.
    3. Hickory.
    4. Hard Maple.
    5. Fir Balsam.
    6. White Ash.
    7. White Cedar.
    8. Beech.

  Third Series.
    1. White Oak.
    2. Black Walnut.
    3. Horse Chestnut.
    4. Basswood or Linden.
    5. Black Ash.
    6. Butternut.
    7. Locust.
    8. Bitternut Hickory.

         40 cents a Series; the Three Series, $1.00, postpaid.

  I heartily approve of the idea and think the photographs will do a
  great deal of good. The tree habit with trunk and leaf habit is
  admirable. John M. Coulter, Dept. of Botany, University of Chicago.

  Sirs:—Enclosed please find a check for $15.00, for which please
  forward copies of your publication. They are just what we need. Yours
  truly, G. Straubenmuller, Associate Superintendent, New York.

        No teacher should be without a set of our Forest Trees.
                        Sample sent on request.




                    ORIGINAL RINEHART REPRODUCTIONS


From colored photographs, showing in detail the fantastic coloring,
gaudy clothing, head dresses and ornaments of the following subjects:

  1 Chief Wolf Robe (Cheyenne)
  2 Chief Mountain (Blackfeet)
  3 Hattie Tom (Apache)
  4 Chief Hollow Horn Bear (Sioux)
  5 Chief Grant Richards (Tonkawa)
  6 Chief White Man (Kiowa)
  7 Wichita Papoose
  8 Sac and Fox Papoose
  9 Broken Arm on Horseback
  10 Chief White Buffalo (Arapahoe)
  11 Eagle Feather and Papoose (Sioux)
  12 Ts-I-Do-We-Tsh- (Pueblo)
  13 Brushing Against (Apache)
  14 Kill Spotted Horse (Assiniboine)
  15 Alice Lone Bear (Sioux)
  16 Thunder Cloud (Blackfeet)
  17 Three Fingers (Cheyennes)
  18 Chief Red Bear (Arapahoe)
  19 Good Eagle (Sioux)
  20 Gov Diego Narango, Santa Clara (Pueblo)
  21 Chief Louison (Flathead)
  22 Chief Josh (Apache)
  23 Chief Little Wound (Ogalalla)
  24 Chief Black Man (Arapahoe)
  25 Chief White Swan (Crow)
  26 Chief Wets It (Assiniboine)
  27 Apache Papoose
  28 A Pair of Broncho Busters
  29 Two Little Braves
  30 Black Man (Arapahoe)
  31 High Bear (Sioux)
  32 Chief Red Cloud (Sioux)
  33 Blue Wings (Winnebago)
  34 Chief Joseph (Nez Perces)
  35 Chief Geronimo (Guyiatle) Apache
  36 Ahane (Wichita)
  37 Chief Sitting Bull (Sioux)
  38 Annie Red Shirt (Sioux)
  39 Yellow Feather (Maricopa)
  40 Little Wound Chief (Ogalalla Sioux)

                Size, 7×9 inches    Price, 10 cents each
                  Any 12 for $1.00 or the 40 for $2.00


                           AS A SPECIAL OFFER

We will send you Birds and Nature one year and the above 40 pictures for
$3.00. The regular value is $5.00.

Birds and Nature one year and 10 pictures, for $1.70.

         A. W. MUMFORD, Publisher    203 Michigan Ave., Chicago




                          Transcriber’s Notes


--Created an eBook cover from elements within the issue.

--Reconstructed the Table of Contents (originally on each issue’s
  cover).

--Retained copyright notice on the original book (this eBook is
  public-domain in the country of publication.)

--Silently corrected a few palpable typos.

--The index contains links to articles in other issues of _Birds and
  Nature_ magazine, which can be installed locally:


    Gutenberg #47881: Volume 12 Number 1, June 1902
    Gutenberg #47882: Volume 12 Number 2, July 1902
    Gutenberg #47883: Volume 12 Number 3, August 1902
    Gutenberg #47884: Volume 12 Number 4, September 1902