Part 4

As it was past their bedtime I saw them safely asleep, both little heads laid snugly against their wings, and thought by morning the quarrel would be forgotten. When I saw them next poor little Peepsy lay dead upon the cage floor. I strongly suspect that Robert rose early to help him out of the world; at least there was no appearance of suicide!

The remaining twin sang freely for a few hours; he had vanquished an imaginary foe and was singing the song of him who overcometh.

After that he seemed preyed upon by remorse, nor was he ever himself again, refusing food and pining away gradually through the few remaining weeks of his short life, when, in spite of all his faults, he died, as the storybooks say, much loved and lamented.

THE COWBIRD.

(_Molothrus ater._)

C. C. M.

"Buffalo-bird" was formerly one of the names applied to this bird of strange habits, and Major Bendire, who was long an observer of all that took place on the plains, states that one will rarely see a bunch of cattle without an attending flock of cowbirds, who perch on their backs searching for parasites, or sit with "lazy ease," their familiarity with the cattle suggesting their name of cowbird. They also follow the freshly plowed furrows and pick up worms and larvæ. Mr. P. M. Silloway, who has made a very extended and careful study of the cowbird, says that its strange behavior and stealthy movements at certain seasons have prevented the acquisition of full data concerning many features of its life, and a few unfounded speculations about its habits have become current. It occupies a parallel place with the European cuckoo. It never builds a nest, but deposits its eggs in the homes of other birds, usually those of the smaller species. It is, therefore, a homeless creature, and its young are all orphans or adopted children. "It is, indeed, a peculiar bird, having no attractiveness of color, no beauty of voice, and no home. No wonder that, when in the haunts of other species, it hides and skulks as it seeks a suitable and convenient habitation to house its unborn orphan." Major Bendire gives a list of ninety-one birds in whose nests she has been known to leave her eggs. This includes woodpeckers, flycatchers, orioles, thrushes, sparrows, vireos, wrens, and warblers, but the most frequently imposed upon are so small that the cowbird's big nestling is almost certain to be the one to survive, the smaller birds being crowded out, and left to perish. It is said that as many as seven cowbird eggs have been found in a single nest, but there is generally only one. It is believed that a brood of insectivorous and useful birds is almost invariably sacrificed for every cowbird raised. Mr. Ridgway, in his fascinating book on the birds of Illinois, gives the following vivid picture of the female searching for a nest in which to deposit her egg: "She hunts stealthily through the woods, usually among the undergrowth, and when a nest is discovered, patiently awaits from a convenient hiding-place the temporary absence of the parent, when the nest is stealthily and hastily inspected, and if found suitable, she takes possession and deposits her egg, when she departs as quietly as she came." "In the village of Farmington, Conn.," says Florence A. Merriam, "we once saw a song sparrow on a lawn feeding a cowbird bigger than she. When she handed it a worm, one of my field class exclaimed in astonishment, 'I thought the big bird was the mother!'"

Some of the foster parents abandon their nests, or build a second nest over the eggs, but usually the little bird works faithfully to bring up the foundling. Sometimes the egg is recognized by the mother and quickly thrown out. Frequently, also, the cowbird will eject one or more eggs of the owner to make room for her egg, or to deceive the owner and leave the same number of eggs as were in the nest before her visit. Sometimes an egg of the owner is found on the ground near a nest containing an egg of the cowbird, and it is no unusual occurrence to find an egg of the cowbird lying near a nest of a species regularly imposed upon by the parasite. Silloway says that the wood thrush, towhee, field and chipping sparrows, yellow-breasted chat, and the Maryland yellow-throat are oftenest selected to bear the burden of rearing the young of the cowbird.

In their courtship the males are very gallant. They arrive from the south several days in advance of the females. At this season--about the middle of March--they generally associate in groups of six or eight, and the males are easily distinguished by the gloss of their black plumage in contrast to the dull brown of the female. They do not pair, the females meeting the advances of the males indiscriminately. Dr. Gibbs, however, thinks that the birds may pair frequently for the summer, and suggests this as reasonable, referring to an incident coming under his notice when he saw a blue jay, on the point of despoiling the nest of a vireo, driven away by a pair of cowbirds in a most valiant manner. In going to the nest he found a large over-grown cowbird occupying the largest share of the structure, "while a poor little red-eyed vireo occupied a small space at the bottom, and beneath his big foster brother."

The eggs of the cowbird hatch in eleven or twelve days. They average .88 by .65 of an inch, the length varying from .95 to .67 of an inch, and the width varying from .72 to .58 of an inch. The ground is a dingy white or gray, and the markings vary through all the shades of brown, sometimes evenly distributed over the surface, and at other times predominating around the larger end. There is so much diversity in the appearance of different specimens, that frequently the investigator is puzzled in distinguishing the true eggs of the towhee, cardinal, and other species from those of the cowbird.

In the breeding season the male grackles, red-winged blackbirds, and the cowbirds of both sexes, nightly congregate to roost together. Early after the breeding season they form into flocks of from fifty to sixty. The birds have then finished moulting, and the glossy black of the males has been changed into the duller colors of the females and the young. They assemble with the blackbirds of various species where food is most abundant and easy to be procured.

Late investigations of the food habits of the cowbird indicate that the species is largely beneficial. Prof. Beal showed the food of the cowbird to consist of animal and vegetable matter in the proportion of about twenty-eight per cent. of the latter. Spiders and harmful insects compose almost exclusively the animal food, while weed seeds, waste grain, and a few miscellaneous articles make up the vegetable food. Mr. Silloway thinks "it is not improbable that the so-called insectivorous birds displaced by the cowbird are thus kept in check by this natural agent, and their mission performed by the usurper in directions as helpful as the special functions of the sufferers. We may later come to understand that one cowbird is worth two bobolinks after all."

THE LEGEND OF SAINT SILVERUS.

There runs an old, old legend, A tale of Christmas time, Low breathed round the fireside In distant Northern clime; It tells how once an angel Looked down in mercy sweet, And bade the people listen To hear the Master's feet: "Behold the Christ-child cometh! The King of love is near! Oh! bring your gifts of Noel Unto the Lord most dear."

With golden grain of plenty Fair shone each raptured home; The corn crown'd every dwelling Whereto the Christ should come. And one, a blue-eyed stripling, In longing all unknown, With heart aflame had labored For gift that God might own: "Behold the Christ-child cometh!" Up rose the music blest, And Silverus stood waiting With sheaf the richest, blest.

A tiny bird, nigh fainting, A little trembling thing, Through chilling airs of Christmas Drew near on drooping wing; The people raised a clamor, They chased it from the corn, They drove it from the garlands That gleamed for Christmas morn: "Behold the Christ-child cometh!" His praise they fain would win; How could they bring to Jesus An offering marred and thin?

On drooping, dying pinion That vainly sought relief, The shivering bird down lighted Where shone the proudest sheaf; And Silverus moved softly, Though dews all wistful stirred, Close, close within his bosom He fed the fainting bird: "Behold the Christ-child neareth!" He spake in faltering tone, "The golden ears are broken, Yet broken for His own."

And while the sheaf of beauty Grew marred and spent and bare, The sweet bird flew to heaven; The King of love stood there: "Oh! tender heart and Christlike, Whose yearnings soared on high, Yet could not see, uncaring, My weakest creature die! Lo, I am with thee always, My Christmas light is thine; The dearest gift of Noel Is pity poured for mine!"

BIRDS GATHERED HIS ALMOND CROP.

An almond-grower of this locality hit upon a neat device for gathering his crop last fall. His trees bore largely, and this early became known to the yellowhammers, a species of the woodpecker tribe of birds, and they had regularly stored away large quantities of ripe nuts taken from the orchard in the limb of an oak tree near by. The astute orchardist watched operations, and at last hit upon a novel nut and labor-saving plan, and he lost no time in putting it into execution.

The limb was sawed from the tree and replaced by a square-shaped funnel, long enough nearly to reach the ground; a bucket was then set underneath. A genuine robbing game then went merrily on. The birds gathered the nuts, which they dropped into the funnel and down into the bucket below, and as regularly as night came the almond-grower would in his turn empty it of its contents and set it back for a new supply. This was kept up until the entire crop had been gathered and the yellowhammers had departed broken-hearted at the heartless deception practiced upon them.--_Sutler (Cal.) Enterprise._

STORIES FROM BIRDLAND.

A specimen of the egg of that rara avis, the great auk, which was discovered after twenty-seven years in a disused attic in the house of Lord Garvagh in England, recalls to mind the fact that only about seventy of these zoölogical treasures are now known to exist. Of these G. F. Rowley of Brighton possesses half a dozen, while Prof. Alfred Newton of Cambridge, the well-known zoölogical expert, has half that number. The same gentleman discovered a splendid set of ten, labeled "penguin eggs," in the Royal College of Surgeons upward of thirty years ago, while the university museum at Cambridge possesses four, which were the gift of the late Lord Lilford, whose beautiful grounds at Oundle were a veritable paradise of bird life. One of these was brought to light in a farm-house in Dorsetshire, and another changed hands in Edinburgh for a mere trifle. It is a remarkable fact that, whereas in 1830 the market price of a great auk's eggs was no more than $1.25, Lord Garvagh's specimen was bought from Dr. Troughton in 1869 for $320; Sir Vauncey Crewe, in 1894, paid $1,575 for one; in 1897, another was knocked down in London for $1,470, and a slightly cracked specimen went about the same time for $840; not so long ago a couple of these eggs was purchased at a country sale for $19 and resold for $2,284.

* * * * *

Some few years ago a robin took up his abode near the communion table in the old abbey at Bath, England, and remained there for some considerable time; his victualing department being presided over by a friendly verger, he naturally had every inducement to remain, and remain he did. During sermon time, with the exception of an occasional chirp of approval, he preserved an exemplary silence, neither coughing nor yawning, but when the hymns were sung, and he perched himself on the communion rail, his voice could be heard high above those of the human singers. All redbreasts, however, do not behave so well, and one at Ely cathedral some time ago carried on in such a manner that he brought disgrace on his tiny head. During the service he behaved fairly well, but when the clergyman ascended the pulpit and began to speak, the robin deliberately perched himself on an adjacent pinnacle of the chancel screen and began to sing, and the louder the preacher spoke the greater volume of sound proceeded from the irreverent bird, till he had to be removed.

* * * * *

The first place in the ranks of birds was until lately given by naturalists to eagles and hawks. The low-foreheaded tyrants are now dethroned, and the highest development of the race is reached in the family of the sparrows, if the following story be true. A man was feeding with breadcrumbs a wood pigeon at his feet. One of the bird's feathers, which was ruffled and out of place, caught the eye of a sparrow; the little bird flew down, seized the feather in its beak and pulled its best. The feather did not yield at once, and the pigeon walked off with offended dignity. The sparrow followed, still holding on; and, in the end, flew off triumphant with the trophy to its nest.

DECEMBER.

Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, From the snow five thousand summers old; On open wold and hill-top bleak It had gathered all the cold, And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek; It carried a shiver everywhere From the unleafed boughs and pastures bare; The little brook heard it and built a roof 'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof; All night by the white stars' frosty gleams He groined his arches and matched his beams; Slender and clear were his crystal spars As the lashes of light that trim the stars; He sculptured every summer delight In his halls and chambers out of sight.

* * * * *

'Twas as if every image that mirrored lay In his depths serene through the summer day, Each fleeting shadow of earth and sky, Lest the happy model should be lost, Had been mimicked in fairy masonry By the elfin builders of the frost. --_Lowell._

THE WILD CAT.

(_Lynx rufus._)

C. C. M.

The species of lynx found in forests in the United States is the red or bay lynx. Its popular name is wild cat, but it is a true lynx, with the ear tufts characteristic of that group, and differs from the other members of it principally in the color of its fur. It is a resident of every part of the United States from ocean to ocean. The general color is usually red, but darker, and sometimes nearly black along the backbone, while under the body it is whitish and on the breast pure white. The entire fur, except the breast, is covered with spots and streaks of darker fur. The length of the body and head is about fifty-three inches and the tail is six inches long. The color of the fur is of a brighter red in summer and a darker brownish-red in winter. Different writers have classified several species of the American lynx, including the Texas lynx, which is found in Texas, and southern California; the Oregon lynx, which inhabits northern Oregon and Washington. There is also a Florida lynx. It is believed there is not much justification for these divisions, which Brehm says are based principally upon the different markings of the fur, and that in a general way it may be said that the specimens obtained from southern climates have shorter fur, which is more brightly colored and more distinctly spotted than those from the northern regions; but otherwise these animals do not differ in their habits and characteristics, which are those of the lynx group in general.

The natural home of the wild cat is a dense forest abounding in deep thickets and game. It rarely seeks sparsely-wooded sections. Sometimes it will hunt the hare even on the plain, and a prairie fire will drive it to the neighborhood of settlements. It is capable of great endurance in walking, can leap an astonishing distance, climbs well, and is said to be a good swimmer. Its sense of hearing is very acute, and its sight keen. It is a night-prowler, hiding at the dawn of day, and remaining still until evening. The wild cat selects for its lair a deep thicket, a cavern, or hole in a tree trunk.

As the shades of evening fall, says Brehm, it becomes active. During the day it seems as rigid as a statue, but at night it sets out, and on the first part of its journey makes frequent pauses, like those made by the domestic cat previous to entering an enclosure that appears to threaten danger. Only a very inexperienced person could mistake the spoor of the lynx for that of any other animal. The imprint is very deep owing to the strength of the paw, which exceeds that of a large wolf. It is very round and, as the claws are hidden, it is blunt in front. The pace is short compared with the size of the imprints made. The spoor takes a form something like that of a row of pearls; any one who has once seen it is sure to recognize it again.

The wild cat seems clumsy; its body is heavy, but it possesses the agility of its kind and surpasses them in rapidity of movement and endurance. Almost all animals and birds are its prey, although only the strongest lynx will attack deer. In temperate climates it is detested by the farmer and sportsman as it kills more than it needs, for its sustenance, often merely lapping the blood of its victim, and eating only the choicest portions. In the south it will not return a second time to this food, but in the north, where game is scarce, it always returns, remaining near the carcass until it is all eaten.

The wild cat has been tamed but it has not been found to be a very attractive animal to handle when angry. Loewis gives the following report of a female that he kept. He says: "A few months sufficed to teach my young lynx her name, 'Lucy.' When, during a hunting expedition, I would call out this name, together with those of numerous dogs, she would always respond to her own name, but to no other. Her training had been very easy and had reached such a point that when she was engaged in a passionate, but forbidden chase of hares, sheep, or poultry, and I called her, she would stop instantly and return, like a guilty dog, crouching low on the ground and pleading for mercy. When she was too far away to hear our voices, the report of a gun was sufficient to call her back in breathless haste. Lucy took part in all my autumnal hunting-trips. When she got sight of a poor hare she at once engaged in hot pursuit, and, in spite of her great excitement, she always had enough reasoning power to gauge the distance and to approximate the difference between the hare's speed and her own. She would obey only my brother's and my own summons, and showed no respect to any other persons. When we were both absent for a whole day, nobody could control her, and then, woe be unto the careless chicken or the thought-less goose! During our absence she would, as soon as it became dusk, climb on the roof, lean against the chimney, and go to sleep. As soon as our carriage came into the yard, late at night, she sprang to the stairs in a few bounds. If I then called her name she would come to me quickly, put her strong fore-paws on my shoulders and, purring and rubbing herself against me, she would follow me into the room and prepare to pass the night on the bed or the lounge."

The fur of the lynx is very valuable. The Scandinavian specimens are counted among the largest and finest. Siberia and Russia furnish many thousands of skins. The flesh is said to be very palatable. It is light colored and tender, like the best veal, and is free from the disagreeable taste so common in game. The lynx was known to the ancients but was exhibited much more rarely in Rome than the lion and leopard, because even then it was so much more difficult to take alive. The one that Pompey exhibited had been captured in Gaul. The life of the wildcat in the natural state was shrouded in mystery which left room for many fables.

CHRISTMAS ONCE IS CHRISTMAS STILL.

PHILLIPS BROOKS.

The silent skies are full of speech, For who hath ears to hear; The winds are whispering each to each; The moon is calling to the beach; And stars their sacred wisdom teach Of Faith and Love and Fear.

But once the sky its silence broke, And song o'erflowed the earth; The midnight air with glory shook, And angels mortal language spoke, When God our human nature took In Christ the Savior's birth.

And Christmas once is Christmas still; The gates through which He came, And forests wild, and murmuring rill, And fruitful field, and breezy hill, And all that else the wide world fill, Are vocal with His name.

Shall we not listen while they sing This latest Christmas morn, And music hear in everything, And faithful lives in tribute bring, To the great song which greets the King Who comes when Christ is born?

THE EUROPEAN SQUIRREL.

(_Sciurus vulgaris._)

C. C. M.