Part 2

The why and wherefore of the colors of birds' eggs, says Ernest Ingersoll, has been a favorite theme for speculation, from the quaint surmisings of Sir Thomas Browne to the solemn guess-work of Shufeldt, in his ten "biological laws explanatory of the variation in color of the shells of the eggs in class Aves."* Hewitson piously concludes that the beauty of these elegant and often exquisitely attractive objects is intended for the delight of human eyes; hence, as he says, eggs simply white are put out of sight in holes! He also sees in the larger number of eggs laid by game-birds a provision by a benevolent Providence for the joy of the sportsman and the delectation of the epicure. Next comes a man who assures us that the colors of eggs are due to the influence of their respective surroundings on the imagination of the hen birds--the old story of Jacob's little trick on Laban in the matter of young cattle. This school instances as an example the red blotches prevalent on the eggs of falcons, regarded by it as a record of the bloody experiences of the parents; but it does not explain why the equally rapacious owls produce pure white eggs, or the blood-thirsty skuas and shrikes lay greenish ones. Other equally fallacious theorizings might be noted.

Explanation of plate: _A_, flowering branch, nearly natural size; 1, flower in section; 2, stamen; 3, ovary in transverse section; 4, pistil; 5 and 6, fruit, with seed; 7, seed; 8, seed in sections.

TEA.

_Camellia Thea Link_.

DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER,

Northwestern University School of Pharmacy.

The gentle fair on nervous tea relies, Whilst gay good nature sparkles in her eyes. --_Crabbe_: "Inebriety."

The highly esteemed drink referred to in the above lines is made from the leaves and very young terminal branches of a shrub known as _Camellia Thea_. The shrub is spreading, usually two or three meters high, though it may attain a height of nine or ten meters. It has smooth, dark-green, alternate, irregularly serrate-dentate, lanceolate to obovate, blunt-pointed, simple leaves. The young leaves and branches are woolly owing to the presence of numerous hair-cells. The flowers are perfect, solitary or in twos and threes in the axils of the leaves. They are white and rather showy. Some authors state that they are fragrant, while others state that they are practically odorless. Stamens are numerous. The ovary is three-celled, with one seed in each cell, which is about the size of a cherry seed.

The tea-plant is no doubt a native of India, upper Assam, from whence it was early introduced into China, where it is now cultivated on an immense scale. It is, however, also extensively cultivated in various parts of India, in Japan, Java, Australia, Sicily, Corea, and other tropical and subtropical countries and islands. It is also cultivated to some extent in the southern United States, as in Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, and California, but apparently without any great success. The plant is extensively grown in green-houses and conservatories on account of its beauty.

According to a Japanese myth the tea plant originated as follows: A very pious follower of Buddha, Darma, vowed that he would pray without ceasing. He had prayed for some years when finally the Evil One over-powered him and he fell asleep. When he awoke he felt so chagrined and humiliated that he cut off both his eyelids and threw them from him. From the spot where they fell grew two plants endowed with the property of dispelling sleep. Chinese writers maintain that priests of Buddha introduced the plant from India. Some authorities are inclined to believe that the plant is a native of China; others, that it was brought from Corea to China about the ninth century.

Tea-drinking was supposed to have been discovered by a servant of Emperor Buttei, 150 B. C., but concerning this there is much uncertainty. It is said to have been in use in Japan as early as 729 of our era. The first definite information about tea-consumption in China dates from the year 1550, when a Persian merchant brought tea from that country to Venice. At a little later period we find tea mentioned in various letters and documents of travelers and merchants, yet it is evident that it was a costly and rare article as late as 1660. In 1664 the East India Company presented the queen of England with two pounds of tea. In fact, it was not until the beginning of the eighteenth century and later that tea began to be used in different parts of Europe. During the latter part of the seventeenth century and the beginning of the eighteenth century tea-houses were established in various cities of Europe, especially in England. At the present time tea-houses, like coffee-houses, have become practically extinct in civilized countries, but that does not imply that tea-drinking and coffee-drinking are on the wane. Among the English and Slavs tea-parties are all the rage. The favorite Gesellschaft _Kaffee_, coffee-party, of German housewives indicates that they give coffee the preference. The biggest tea-party on record was doubtless the so-called Boston Tea Party, at which tea valued at £18,000 sterling was destroyed.

In spite of the tropical origin of the plant the largest quantities of tea are consumed in northern countries, notably in Russia and Asiatic Russia. Large quantities are consumed in England and the United States.

Most authorities are agreed that the different kinds of tea on the market are derived from the same species of plant. Some admit a variety _C. Thea var. viridis_. The following are the principal teas of the market and the manner of their preparation:

1. _Green Tea._ After collecting the leaves are allowed to lie for about two hours in warmed pans and stirred and then rolled upon small bamboo tables, whereupon they are further dried upon hurdles and again in heated pans for about one hour, accompanied by stirring. The leaves now assume a bluish-green color, which is frequently enhanced by adding Prussian blue or indigo. Of these green teas the most important are Gunpowder, Twankay, Hyson, Young Hyson, Hyson skin, Songla, Soulang, and Imperial.

2. _Black Tea._ The leaves are allowed to lie in heaps for a day, when they are thoroughly shaken and mixed. After another period of rest, two to three days, they are dried and rolled much as green tea. In the storing process the leaves undergo a fermentation which develops the aroma and the dark color. The following are the principal varieties: Campoe, Congou, Linki-sam, Padre Souchon (caravan tea), Pecoe, Souchong, and Bohe.

In some countries the teas are scented with jasmine flowers or orange flowers. This is, however, no longer extensively practiced. The essentially Chinese custom of coloring teas with Prussian blue, gypsum, and indigo is dying out, at least so far as the export trade is concerned, because intelligent civilized consumers are beginning to prefer the uncolored teas. Competent authorities maintain that there is not enough of the coloring substances added to be harmful. The workmen preparing the better qualities of tea are not permitted to eat fish, as the very enduring and penetrating fish-flavor would be transmitted to the tea in the thorough handling. It seems, however, that a more or less distinct fishy flavor is perceptible in many teas, even the better qualities.

Tea-dust consists of remnants from tea-chests, dust from the working tables upon which the leaves are rolled--in fact, tea-refuse of all kinds. It is certainly not a desirable article. Besides true tea there are leaves and other parts of a great variety of plants which have been used as tea. To enumerate and describe these would be impracticable in this paper. The following are a few of the more important: Paraguay tea, or maté, is highly esteemed in South America. The Coreans prepare tea from ginger. The poor Siberians use cabbage leaves. Teas are made from the leaves of a great variety of herbs which are supposed to have medicinal or stimulating properties similar to those of tea. Peppermint tea and chamomile tea are greatly esteemed in certain localities.

Concerning the adulteration of tea there seems to be considerable difference of opinion, some authorities maintaining that adulteration is common, while others maintain that it is very rare, indeed. There is, however, little doubt that used tea is frequently redried, rerolled, and resold as good tea. Willow leaves, strawberry leaves, and mulberry leaves are said to be added occasionally.

Every housewife knows that _good_ tea is expensive. Since the different teas are all from the same species of plant why should there be such a difference in price? The expensive teas consist of the very young leaves and terminal branches and are carefully dried and prepared under special supervision. The young leaves and branches have a more delicate flavor. To determine whether a sample of tea consists of young leaves or not soak it in water, carefully roll out the leaves, and measure them. If the majority of leaves measure an inch or more in length it is a poor quality. It must be remembered that even fair medium qualities are mixed; that is, they consist of mature and immature leaves. The best and most expensive teas are often sold at one hundred dollars per pound. They are never exported, but consumed by high Chinese officials. Imperial tea is prepared under the direct supervision of royal government officials.

Tea owes its stimulating properties to an active constituent known as thein, which is in all respects similar to caffein, the active constituent of coffee. The flavor which is developed by the drying process is due to several constituents. Besides these substances tea also contains considerable tannin. Tea consumed in moderate quantities is beneficial rather than otherwise. Its injurious properties are due to the tannin, which affects digestion. If consumed in large quantities for a long time the thein causes nervousness and the tannin causes various dyspeptic conditions. In China some chew the leaves treated with arsenic to improve the complexion. The whitening of the complexion is, however, due to the arsenic and not the tea.

Tea is prepared in different ways in different countries, nevertheless the preparation of a good cup of tea is comparatively simple, leaving out of consideration the many paraphernalia used by different nations and which really have no effect except that upon the imagination. The following is Emperor Kien Lung's (1680) recipe for making tea, and which is frequently found upon Chinese tea cups: "Over a moderate fire place a vessel with three feet, showing by its color and form that it has been much used; fill with clear water of melted snow and heat it until the water will turn a fish white or a lobster red. Pour this water into a cup containing the leaves of a select variety of tea; allow it to stand until the first rising vapors, which form a dense cloud, become gradually less and float over the surface as a faint mist. Drink this precious liquid slowly and thou wilt find it a powerful dissipator of the five sorrows which disturb our minds. The sweet and peaceful rest which we owe to this drink we may taste and feel, but may not describe." This recipe, although two hundred years old, has not been improved upon. Stated in a little simpler form the recipe would read: In a cup with good tea leaves pour clean boiling water and allow to stand five or six minutes; decant and drink slowly.

Tea leaves should never be infused for a long time for several reasons. The flavor dissipates and the objectionable tannin is more and more extracted, imparting to the tea astringency and a bitterness, which are not only disagreeable to the taste but also cause indigestion and constipation. After the tea is prepared as indicated it may be taken hot or cold, with or without sugar, with or without cream or milk. Iced tea, with a little lemon juice added, is a delicious drink for hot weather. It is cooling besides having a tendency to check excessive perspiration. Tea has also been found valuable as a wash for inflammation of the eyes.

In conclusion, I wish to refer the reader to an article in the July number of the _Cosmopolitan_ on "Tea-drinking in many lands," by Laura B. Starr, in which are related many interesting customs relative to the use and preparation of tea.

THE TOWHEE; CHEWINK.

(_Pipilo erythrophthalmus._)

BY LYNDS JONES.

The home of my childhood and early youth nestles in one of the gems of woodland which are so characteristic of the rolling prairies of central Iowa. This hundred-acre grove covers five main hills, with their valleys and the lesser runs which divide each of the five hills into two, three, or four lesser hills. The hills radiate in a semicircle to the north and west from the height on which the old home stands, rolling away to the creek which bathes their feet. Here are tall, heavy woods, without underbrush, covering the north slopes; lower, more open woods with patches of plum, and wild crab apple trees, with some hazel brush on all lower slopes of the hills; and finally a liberal fringe of low, brushy trees--hawthorn, plum and crab apple trees--and dense hazel brush on the uplands and on lower lands away from the creek. This dense growth also fringes the county road which extends from end to end of the grove, and it was from this roadside that towhee first heralded his arrival from the south, during the bright days of late March or early April. Later, when the frost had left the ground, and his mate was growing anxious to be selecting a nesting-place, he might be seen on the topmost twig of one of the taller small trees in every brushy place on every hillside. I have sometimes wondered if the towhee household did not have some disagreement about the family name, for the male, from his elevated perch loudly calls _towhee-e-e-e_, while his spouse on the ground below no less vigorously reiterates _che-wink_. But if danger seems to threaten his lordship quickly descends to join his mate in earnest warning that this small bit of earth belongs by right of discovery to che-wink. How earnestly both birds emphasize their claim by the nervous fluff of the short, stiff wings and the quick spreading of the long tail, as if the large patches of white at its end would startle the intruder away. But the male bird does not always confine himself to the iteration of the name he seems to love so well. Instead of the single first syllable there may be two or even three, no two in the same pitch. It has been a surprise to me that persons unfamiliar with the towhee's song do not realize that the two parts proceed from the same bird. To them the first part seems to resemble some part of the wood thrush's song and the last part--the _he-e-e-e_--the rattle of downy woodpecker. My ear persistently renders the whole song, _towhee-e-e-e_, or _towhe-hee-e-e-e-e_, or _O towhe-he-e-e-e-e-e_. Others render it _chuck burr pilla-will-a-will_. But towhee is not limited to this variety of vocalization. Besides the abbreviation of his _che-wink_ alarm note to _swink_, or even _wink_, and a _chuck, chuck_, when the nest is threatened, he sometimes sings a rarely beautiful ditty which is totally unlike any of his other performances. I have heard it only shortly after his arrival from the south, before his mate had joined him, and have tried in vain to describe it. The bird moves slowly and sedately about among the fallen leaves in a soliloquy over the happenings of the long journey just ended, with apparently no thought of the absent mate. The manner of its utterance indicates that this is the bird's private song, egotistic if you please, while his tree-top rendition is evidently his altruistic performance.

The ordinary song and call and alarm notes are well rendered in the local names bestowed upon the bird: Towhee, che-wink, joreet, joree, charee, pink-pink, and wink-wink. His chestnut-colored sides and lowly habits have given him the names of ground robin and swamp robin, and his red iris, red-eyed towhee.

Nesting begins about the first of May in northern Ohio. The nest is almost always placed on the ground, often in a slight depression made by the birds, rarely in a bush up to seven feet from the ground. It is made of material easily accessible in the region of the nest, of dry leaves for a foundation upon which plant stems, dry grass, grape-vine bark, or like material is arranged, and the whole lined with fine rootlets. The material will vary somewhat with locality and situation of the nest, as a matter of course. Rarely the nest may be covered, with the entrance in the side, but it is usually not covered. The nest site is preferably some distance from a road or foot-path, often in moderately deep woods where there is little underbrush, but more often in the shrubbery fringing the woods, either on a hill-top or side hill or bottom land. Here at Oberlin, Ohio, I have found more nests in the low second growth near swampy places than elsewhere.

The nest complement is from three to five eggs, usually four. The egg seems to be a rather rounded ovate, running to nearly spherical on the one hand to elongate oval on the other. The ground color is white, not seldom tinged with pink or blue, with sprinkling of reddish-brown dots, spots, and blotches. It is a common experience to find eggs of the parasitic cowbird in nests of towhee. Twice I have found nests on which the mother towhee was serenely sitting with four eggs of the cowbird beneath her and none of her own. Two eggs of the cowbird and two or three of the towhee in a nest are common. Sometimes the parasitic eggs so closely resemble those of the parent that it is not easy to distinguish between them, but often the difference is very marked.

The towhee is a fairly common inhabitant of the whole region east of the Rocky Mountains and north to the northern border of the United States, breeding everywhere north of northern Alabama.

WEE BABIES.

ELLA F. MOSBY.

The past summer I saw the most charming baby-bird of my life. He was so tiny and silvery, his upper feathers such a lovely olive-green and the under plumage such soft white, and over the bright, innocent little eyes a beautiful curving line like an eyebrow. I did not at first recognize him, but the next day I saw two, probably of the same flock, hunting very industriously over an old tree, and I knew they were the young red eyed vireos. Their feathers were all new and fresh, and that made them look so silvery and the tints seem so clear.

The same summer I became very well acquainted with a different set of bird-babies. They were still younger, for their feathers had a soft, downy look, and fluffed out so that they really looked larger than their tiny parents. They were silver gray, the little blue-gray gnat-catchers, and nothing could be more charming than the way they twinkled about the bushes, or turned somersaults in the air to catch flying insects on the wing. Their little songs, as low as whispers, their call-notes "like a banjo-string" _ting!_ and even their low scoldings, were very pretty, and seemed to belong to them perfectly. Someone, who did not know birds very well called them little wrens, and they really had a good many of the restless movements and alert attitudes of these birds, but their habits are totally different. For instance, their life begins in a lichened cup high up among the top boughs and it is only in the late summer, when birds break their rules and go as they please for a brief holiday time before the migration, that you will see the gnat-catchers come down to the low bushes. I can hardly believe it myself, but I once saw a young one picking away on the ground.

One charm about the tiny birds, gnat-catchers, chebecks, vireos, kinglets, and the like, is that they are not usually so shy as large, handsome birds, and I have often had them almost within touch, singing, feeding, preening their feathers, in the loveliest and most confiding way.

WISH-TON-WISH.

EMMA M. GREENLEAF.

One bright May morning Wish-ton-wish sat on the mound in front of his family burrow. Wish-ton-wish was a lively young prairie-dog and he wanted to talk with someone.

Presently Madam Talky came out of her burrow and ran up to the top of her mound.

"Good-morning," called out Wish-ton-wish; but Madam Talky did not even turn her head his way. I dare say she thought to herself, "Humph! A chit of a fellow like that isn't worth my time."

Now Wish-ton-wish was an only boy in a family where there were five other children, so that he had come to believe, as only sons often do, that he was wise enough to talk with a very Solomon of prairie-dogs. The silence of Madam Talky didn't hurt his feelings in the least. Presently he called out again and this time with greater tact: "How are your charming daughters this morning?"

O, you should have seen the change in Mrs. Talky. She turned her whole face toward Wish-ton-wish now and fairly beamed upon him.

"Very well, indeed, thank you," she answered; "you must call to see us."

And this time I dare say she thought to herself, "Why, I can hardly realize that the young fellow is about grown up; how fine he looks, too; his family must have great confidence in him to let him be sentinel when he is so young."

Wish-ton-wish thanked her politely for the invitation, and said that perhaps he might call that afternoon.

"Have you heard that Mr. Grizzle Prairie Dog has been found?" asked Madam Talky.

"No, where?" said Wish-ton-wish.

"O, in a very strange place," madam answered.

"It was Mr. Talky that found him. At least we feel pretty sure that he did. It was this way: Mr. Talky often has attacks of dyspepsia, and last night he ate so much timothy hay for his supper that he had to run back and forth in our burrows for exercise, ever so long before he went to bed. He put his head out at the end of the longest burrow to see if the moon was full and there stood two boys with a gun and a dead hawk. He heard them say they wanted the hawk for a 'collection.' Then one of them said, 'Wish we could have shot it before it caught that prairie-dog.' Mr. Talky was so dreadfully startled that he whirled round and fairly flew back through the burrow to his nest, but we feel sure it was Mr. Grizzle that the hawk had caught."

"How many enemies our race has!" said Wish-ton-wish with a sigh. "Have you told Mrs. Grizzle the sad news?"

"Yes, I told her before sunrise this morning; but she's got used to it now and doesn't feel so bad. He had been missing two days, you know. I saw her going after clover with Mr. Reddy Prairie Dog. You remember Mrs. Reddy was eaten up by a coyote last week."

"Dear me, dear me," sighed Wish-ton-wish again, "how many enemies our race has!"

Just then there came a warning yelp from a sentinel some distance away. Madam Talky and Wish-ton-wish and every other prairie-dog in sight echoed the yelp and then each one of them leaped into his burrow like a flash. They must have turned a double-quick somersault, for, like another flash there were the little heads and bright eyes looking out at the very openings where their tails had vanished an instant before. Scores of curious little faces were peering out and their owners were anxious to know what made the first prairie-dog call out, "Danger, danger!"

Again came several quick calls from the distant sentinel; then all the little animals disappeared into their burrows.