CONTENTS.

[TO A HUMMINGBIRD.] 49 [THE ANNA’S HUMMINGBIRD. (Calypte anna.)] 50 [LONGING.] 54 [EXPERIENCES WITH “HUMMERS.”] 55 [MY HUMMINGBIRD.] 56 [THE RUFOUS HUMMINGBIRD. (Selasphorus rufus.)] 59 [WHAT A LITTLE MOUSE SAID.] 60 [ABOUT A SPARROW.] 61 [THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW. (Zonotrichia albicollis.)] 62 [A PLANT THAT MELTS ICE.] 65 [THE HUMMINGBIRDS. Maxime miranda in minimus!] 66 [EACH IN ITS OWN WAY.] 68 [THE PARULA WARBLER. (Compsothlypis americana.)] 71 [A DAINTY LOVER.] 72 [A BIRD NOTE.] 72 [GOLDENROD.] 72 [BALLADE.] 73 [TOURMALINE.] 74 [THE STAR FISH.] 79 [IN THE MEADOW.] 80 [THE INDIAN ELEPHANT. (Elephas indicus.)] 83 [THE WILD CLEMATIS.] 84 [TOPSY.] 85 [THE WALRUS. (Trichechus rosmarus.)] 86 [TOUCHING INCIDENTS ABOUT PIGEONS.] 89 [ON THE SAN JOAQUIN.] 90 [THE BENGAL TIGER. (Felis tigris.)] 95 [AD VESPERAM.] 96

TO A HUMMINGBIRD.

Voyager on golden air,

Type of all that’s fleet and fair,

Incarnate gem,

Live diadem

Bird-beam of the summer day,—

Whither on your sunny way?

Loveliest of all lovely things,

Roses open to your wings;

Each gentle breast

Would give you rest;

Stay, forget lost Paradise,

Star-bird fallen from happy skies.

Vanished! Earth is not his home;

Onward, onward must he roam

Swift passion-thought,

In rapture wrought,

Issue of the soul’s desire,

Plumed with beauty and with fire.

—John Vance Cheney.

THE ANNA’S HUMMINGBIRD.
(Calypte anna.)

Buffon, writing of the Hummingbird, and his words do not refer to any single species, but to them as a group, says that “the emerald, the ruby and the topaz glitter in its garb, which is never soiled with the dust of earth, for, leading an aerial life, it rarely touches the turf, even for an instant. Always in the air, flying from flower to flower, it shares their freshness and their splendor, lives on their nectar, and only inhabits those climates in which they are unceasingly renewed.”

Of all the birds that might receive the appellation, “The Bird of America,” to none could it be applied more truthfully than to the Hummingbird. For of all the families of birds that are distinctively peculiar to the Americas the Trochilidæ, or the Hummingbird family, contains the larger number of species. There are over five hundred species inhabiting North and South America and the adjacent islands, from Patagonia on the South to Alaska on the North. The species is more numerous in the tropics and but seventeen are known to frequent the United States. Of these only one, the ruby-throated hummingbird, exhibits its beauty east of the Mississippi River, and but seven species have their breeding range chiefly or entirely within the United States.

“They abound most in mountainous countries, where the configuration of the surface and productions of the soil are most diversified within small areas. Their center of abundance is among the Northern Andes, between the parallels of ten degrees north and south of the equator, from which region they gradually diminish in numbers both to the northward and southward, but much more rapidly toward the extensive lowlands of the eastern portion of the continent.”

A very interesting group, not so gem-like as many of their sister species, is the hermit hummers represented by a number of species that chiefly inhabit Brazil. These hummingbirds are notable for their plain colors, their plumage having but little of the lustrous metallic iridescence which is so marked a characteristic of the species with which we are more familiar and which frequent flowers in the bright sunshine. The laws of Nature seem to provide against excess even in coloration. The hermit hummers obtain their food only from the insect world, feeding upon those species found on the leaves of trees in deep forests. In such a home a gorgeous dress would be out of place and needless.

Regarding their actions, Mr. Robert Ridgway says: “Hummingbirds are so distinct from other birds in their external structures and manner of flight that they present in every respect, except when at rest, an appearance entirely peculiar to themselves. They spend perhaps the greater part of their time upon the wing, usually hovering or balancing themselves before a flower from which they are procuring their sustenance of honey or of minute insects. At such time the body is nearly vertical or inclined at a slight angle, the head bent nearly at right angles with the axis of the body, the wings spread nearly at right angles with the same axis.” The motion of the wings, which is always rapid, may carry the bird in a horizontal direction or poise it in its vertical attitude directly over a flower. In this latter position the motion of the wings is so rapid that a mere haze appears on each side of the bird’s body. Mr. Gould, speaking of their flight, says “The bird does not usually glide through the air with the quick, darting flight of a swallow or swift, but continues tremulously moving its wings while passing from flower to flower, or when taking a more distant flight over a high tree or across a river.”

ANNA’S HUMMINGBIRD.
(Calypte anna.)
Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.

Such a dainty dress as that worn by most of the hummingbirds deserves constant attention. Appreciating this these little lovers of sunshine are very fond of preening their beautiful feathers. While thus engaged they usually perch on a bare or dead twig in an exposed position. Truly fortunate is he who is afforded the opportunity of watching a hummingbird at this time. In this position various and graceful attitudes are assumed and the colors of the plumage are most beautifully exhibited. Mr. Audubon tells us that when perching the hummingbirds “move sidewise in prettily measured steps, frequently opening and closing their wings, pluming, stroking and arranging the whole of their apparel with neatness and activity.”

Hummingbirds are very aggressive and show no fear, especially when defending their nests. They will furiously attack any bird or other animal that excites their enmity. They have been known to follow and annoy hawks and other birds much larger than themselves.

Mr. Ridgway says: “In their disposition hummingbirds are not only very tame but highly curious or inquisitive, and exhibit a special propensity to closely inspect a human intruder to their domain.” This characteristic may be frequently noticed in the actions of our common ruby-throat. In spite of the fact that the hummingbirds are easily tamed and may even be induced to take food from the hand or from a flower so held as to attract their attention, they do not survive confinement for any length of time.

Although the nectar of flowers forms a large part of their food, it has been shown that insects also form no inconsiderable portion.

The high degree of intelligence possessed by the hummingbirds is shown in the construction of their nests. Some of the species make the nests “of such form or material as will serve to imitate natural excrescences of a branch, such as a knot or a pine cone.” Other species make a hammock-like nest that they suspend from cliffs by attaching spiders’ webs. Mr. Thomas M. Brewer writes: “Indeed, it is probable that there is no other family whose architectural achievements are more varied than those of the hummingbirds. These variations include not only the material of which the nests are made and the positions in which they are placed; but also the general style of their construction, exhibiting constant differences, in the several species, in the ingenuity and beauty displayed in each design.” Even individual species will change the usual plan of their nests in order to adapt them to the requirements of their environment. In favorable localities a new nest will be built each season on top of the old one of the year before. “The hermit hummingbirds fasten their elongated nests to one side of the extremity of long-pointed leaves for protection, it is supposed, against monkeys and other predaceous animals.”

The eggs of the hummingbirds, invariably two in number, are white and free from spots. Though very small they are large when compared with the size of the bird that laid them. It is claimed by most authorities that under favorable conditions two broods are raised each season.

The Anna’s Hummingbird of our illustration is one of the most striking of those best known. It is perhaps the most beautiful of the species that frequent the United States. It is a native of California and in its migrations passes southward through Arizona to the table-lands of Mexico. It is also found in Lower California.

The head and ruff of the male have a lustrous metallic purplish red color. The female is bronze green above, though the top of the head is sometimes brownish, showing but little if any metallic luster. Both sexes vary somewhat in color. This is especially true of the males, some individuals having more purplish red on the crown and throat than others.

This species inhabits a metal producing region and it is an interesting fact, as cited by Mr. Gould in his “Monograph of the Hummingbirds,” that “those districts or countries having a metalliferous character are tenanted by species of hummingbirds which are more than ordinarily brilliant and glittering.”

Major Charles Bendire in his “Life Histories of North American Birds,” records an interesting observation of Mr. A. W. Anthony regarding the hatching of an Anna’s Hummingbird. These words probably well describe the process followed by all the species.

Writing in regard to a set of eggs which he had collected, he says: “I was somewhat disgusted to find one of the eggs pipped and, realizing the difficulty of making a presentable specimen of it, was on the point of throwing it away when a movement on the part of the tiny creature within the shell suggested to my mind that I hatch the egg and find out for myself how baby hummingbirds come into the world. So far there was but a pin point broken, the rest of the shell being intact; and it was several minutes before the warmth of my hand, aided by my breath, produced another movement upon the part of the prospective hummer; first a feeble struggle, followed by an interval of rest; another squirm and the point of the bill came in view and was withdrawn; after a moment’s rest a new system was adopted, which consisted of turning around in the shell from right to left and cutting a clean, smooth opening with the sharp, horny tip on the upper mandible; this operation was evidently hard work and required all the strength of the little mite, and frequent rests were necessary to recruit. Sometimes an interval of twisting seemed to accomplish nothing, and it would look as if all its struggles would be in vain. I wondered whether the parent would not render a little much-needed assistance at this stage; but after an interval of rest the work would be continued with renewed vigor and another millimetre cut toward the outer world. The cutting was all done in the same direction. When the shell had been cut four-fifths around, the chick succeeded in getting one claw hooked over the edge of the break, and by one or two vigorous pushes broke the remaining shell, leaving in my hand two nearly equal parts of what had been a hummingbird’s egg and a squirming something that bore no semblance whatever to one of the peerless members of the genus Calypte.” The entire operation, which added another individual to America’s beautiful family of birds, required but fifteen minutes of time. The energy and perseverance of the little mass of flesh was a hint of that pugnacious disposition that would be so striking a characteristic when it became fully grown and clothed with its resplendent metallic plumage.

LONGING.

O, for the woods and fields and streams,

For flowers wild and squirrels shy—

For birds whose sunlit plumage gleams,

For sight of clear, unhidden sky!

For grasses green, for springs and marsh,

For mountain paths and tramps o’er hills

Where nothing sinful—nothing harsh—

The sweetening song of Nature stills!

Lloyd Thompson.

EXPERIENCES WITH “HUMMERS.”

Did you ever hold a live hummingbird in your hand? Well, I have held several of the wee, wee creatures. Did you ever look into a hummingbird’s nest? Well, I have peeped into several of the tiny, downy affairs.

Two of the nests contained eggs; one contained young birds. The eggs were as small as an ordinary garden pea—perfectly egg-shaped. Can I describe the young of the hummingbird? No, impossible. I can only say that they are the smallest animal I ever saw in all my life. Of course, that does not include the insect world.

How did I contrive to get hold of a live hummingbird? Easy enough when you know how.

One hot afternoon in June I was sitting in a garden reading. A few yards away stood a large bunch of brilliant carnations. Now, if there is anything which a hummer fairly dotes on it is pinks. Suddenly I heard a loud hum near by. I looked toward the carnations, and, sure enough, there were too hummingbirds hovering around the flowers.

I watched their movements for several moments with great interest. Presently I observed that one of the birds appeared to be entangled. Its tongue, or long, needle-like beak, was caught in some manner in the petals of a large pink. The little fellow kept fluttering around in a helpless way, but could not liberate itself.

Instantly I dropped the book and ran over to the bed. The other hummingbird darted away like a shot. I very softly took the tiny prisoner in my hand and then gently liberated it. For half a minute or more I held the trembling, fluttering creature in my hand. I wish I could describe the beauty and brilliancy of its plumage. Silk, velvet and the delicate tints of the rainbow are the only adequate words. Finally I released the prisoner. In a flash he was out of sight.

One good fright was enough. Neither bird ever came back to the carnations again. At least, the pinks were not visited by any more hummingbirds that season.

Last summer I was out with a fishing party. We went far back into the mountains, where it was rugged, wild and lonely. One day I was out fishing along a rushing torrent. There was a deep, swirling eddy where I was angling, and just on the bank stood a small cedar tree. A long, slender limb hung only a few feet above my head.

While I was fishing a hummingbird came buzzing around my head. It kept circling around me for some time. Finally I stopped fishing. Instantly the bird alighted on a twig and eyed me closely with its bright bead-like eye. A moment later the little mate arrived.

“Surely there must be a nest near by,” I said to myself. Then I began fishing.

Both birds immediately came whirring about my ears like two hornets. They kept it up until I desisted. Then both alighted and watched me sharply. Again and again I tried to fish, but the little creatures would give me no peace.

Down I laid my rod and began to look carefully for a nest. Sure enough, there was one concealed amidst the cedar boughs. It was right above my head where I stood fishing. Very gently I pulled the pendent branch down until I could peep into the thimble of a nest, which contained beautiful eggs. Meantime the birds kept buzzing around my head in a most distracted manner.

Having satisfied my curiosity I quietly withdrew, to the evident delight of the little parents.

On another occasion I was out in an orchard. I noticed two hummingbirds flying around a certain apple tree limb. As I approached the birds became more excited. When within a few yards of the tree I noticed a young bird sitting on a nest. He was almost grown. Not wishing to frighten the little chap, I stopped abruptly. But he darted away. However, his wings were too weak, and down he sank fluttering, falling into a big tuft of tall grass.

He was perfectly helpless, so I very tenderly picked him up and placed him back on the nest. To my surprise and amusement he did not attempt to escape, but stood up boldly and looked at me in a saucy, defiant way. The parent birds were buzzing around me like angry bees, but when they saw that I did not harm their offspring they both alighted near the nest.

A large clump of wild currants stood in one corner of the yard. I noticed two hummingbirds almost constantly hovering around the bush among the large yellow flowers.

I went out one afternoon and secreted myself in the clump, in order to observe more closely the actions and peculiarities of the birds. One was the largest hummingbird I had ever seen, and its plumage was simply gorgeous.

Soon the birds came around, but they did not seem in the least alarmed by my presence. The larger one came very near, and actually flew against my face. I held up my hand, when the bird flew straight into it. I instantly closed my fingers and held him a prisoner. His plumage was brilliant beyond description. As the beautiful captive did not seem to resent my familiarity, I examined his coat carefully before giving the bird its freedom.

I had still another experience with a hummer. On a bright summer day one flew through an open door into a room where I was sitting. Quick as a flash the bird discovered its mistake. It dashed against a window pane with all its might and dropped on the floor. I hastily picked it up. It seemed quite dead. But as I held it in my open hand, silently sympathizing over its fate, the bird suddenly revived and flitted out through the open door before I could wink.

J. Mayne Baltimore.

MY HUMMINGBIRD.

No other fairy did I see

So graceful, pulsing, in the air,

As if the heart of nature beat

Its throbbings in the birdlet there.

The gray, the green, the dash of red,

The beating wings that gauzy seem—

So rapid the vibrating hum—

I almost dream were but a dream.

Then suddenly I cry aloud,

When in a rapid-shooting ray,

My fairy disappears, a-flash,

Into the sun-haunts far away.

Willis Edwin Hurd.

RUFOUS HUMMINGBIRD.
(Selasphorus rufus.)
Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.

THE RUFOUS HUMMINGBIRD.
(Selasphorus rufus.)

This hardy little “Hummer,” which is even smaller than our well-known ruby-throated hummingbird, is weighted with a number of popular names. Among these are the “Rufous-backed Hummingbird,” the “Ruff-necked Honeysucker, or Hummingbird,” the “Rufous Flame-bearer” and the “Cinnamon Hummer.”

The Rufous is probably the most widely distributed of all the hummingbirds. Its range extends throughout Western North America. It breeds from the higher mountains of Southern California northward, near the coast to Nootka Sound, Alaska. In its migrations it flies eastward to Montana, Colorado and thence southward through New Mexico to Western Texas. In fact, during this period it frequents the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, adding beauty to this wild region. Its winter home is chiefly in Mexico and Lower California.

This Hummingbird is exceedingly pugnacious and, as Mr. Henshaw says, “The fiery red throat of the Rufous-backed Hummer is an index of impetuous, aggressive disposition, and when brought into conflict with the other species it invariably asserts its supremacy and drives its rival in utter rout from the field. Nor do the males of this species confine their warfare to their own sex. Gallantry has no place apparently in their breasts, and when conquest has put them in possession of a perch near a clump of flowers they wage war on all comers, females as well as males.”

The Rufous Hummer is one of the earliest of the migratory birds to leave its winter home, and arrives within the borders of the United States early in March and is known to begin housekeeping as far North as the State of Oregon early in April. Altitude as well as climate seems to have much influence in the selection of a nesting sight. The altitude of the breeding range seems to lie between four and seven thousand feet above the sea level, and nests have been reported as high as ten thousand feet.

Mr. A. W. Anthony, writing of this species as he observed it in Oregon, says that “they nested to some extent in oaks, blackberry vines and on dry roots projecting from upturned trees. One nest hung from the end of a tall fern, while others, drooping over it from above, hid the beautiful structure from all but accidental discovery. Their favorite sites, however, seemed to be the long, trailing vines overhanging embankments and upturned trees. A number were found in railroad cuts. One nest was found that had been placed on top of a last year’s habitation, a mere rim being built to raise the sides, and a flooring being added to cover up a large pebble that could be plainly felt under the cotton lining.” This habit of adding stories to nests of the previous season is not infrequent with other species of the hummingbirds.

The nest of the Rufous Hummingbird resembles those of many other species of hummers, and it is very much like that of the Anna’s hummingbird. The framework is composed of delicate tree mosses and fine bark fiber, the outer face of which is sometimes adorned with lichens, though not so profusely as is that of the Anna’s, and fastened together with spider’s webs and the silky threads from cocoons. It is lined with the fine cotton down of plants, especially that of the willow, and the pappus of the Compositae. These nests seem large when compared with the size of the bird. The average nest measures about one and one-half inches in the outer diameter and one and one-fourth inches in depth. “Their nesting sites may be looked for in low bushes as well as on the horizontal limbs of trees at various distances from the ground.” When compared with other species of the family this species is quite noisy, especially when it sees a broad-tailed hummer in the neighborhood. For this species it exhibits an intense animosity and will pursue it, uttering shrill and expressively angry notes.

WHAT A LITTLE MOUSE SAID.

I am only a little mouse; my name is Wee Wee.

I live in a big house away out in California. My mother has made a very cozy home for us between the walls where it is nice and dark. We do not mind the dark, you know, for we can see even better then, with our little bright eyes.

Our bed is soft and warm and is made of tiny bits of paper which we children helped our mother to tear up and it is lined with some nice soft cotton which she picked out of a comforter one night when every-one had gone to church.

We have never been out very much but now, our mother says, we are big enough to help get the living. When she told us this, we all said: “Squeak, squeak, squeak,” which, in mouse language, meant that we were glad and thought it would be fine fun to leave our nest and go out into the big world.

But mother said: “Children, before you go I want to tell you something; listen well to what I shall say.”

And so we six little mice sat very solemnly in a row, on our hind legs and pricked up our ears and listened quietly while she went on. “You go through a narrow passage till you come to a little round hole and when you have squeezed through this you will find yourself in a big room called a kitchen. You must then run quickly across the floor and into the door of a bathroom. There is also a hole behind the bathroom door which you may need to jump into if anything happens. Next comes a nice, large pantry and in there you will find everything that we mice like to eat. Bring what you can carry, after you have eaten all you can, but do not eat too much or you will never be able to squeeze through the hole again. Now you must never go in the daytime, but wait until night.”

After telling us this, my mother left the nest saying that she was going to call on one of our neighbors who lived in an old felt hat, very near us. She said she might be gone some time, so, while my brothers and sisters were taking a nap, I thought to myself: “I don’t see why mother told me not to go in daylight. I am sure everything seems perfectly quiet now and I don’t think anything could hurt me; and I do feel so hungry. I guess I will go on a little trip, and ‘we shall see what we shall see.’” With that I crept out of the nest without making the least bit of noise and followed the directions my mother had given me.

Soon I found myself in the pantry and O! how good everything did smell. I found some cheese and I ate a very big hole in a white cake with icing on it and was just thinking what I could carry home as a surprise for the children when I heard a rushing noise like the patter of feet and I jumped behind some glass jars that were on the floor in the corner.

To my horror I saw very near me, for I could see right through the glass jar, a funny thing with long white wool and sharp teeth, a long, pointed nose and a terrible big red tongue hanging out of its mouth and little sharp black eyes that seemed to be looking clear through me. Oh! how I trembled and oh! how I wished then that I had obeyed my mother.

I saw now, when it was too late, that she knew best. Just then a big giant with dresses on came into the pantry and I heard her say: “That dog thinks there is a mouse in here.” So it was a dog and I remembered now that my mother had said one day that there was a spitz dog in that house.

The lady went out but the dog smelled me and was determined not to give me up so he ran to the big giant with dresses on and whined and whined until she came in again and said: “Well, Zip, I guess there must be a mouse here since you insist on it.” So she went out and got a long stick with a lot of straws on the end of it (she called it a broom), and with that she poked around all over the pantry, and the funny thing with long, white wool and sharp teeth kept smelling around and clawing at the glass jars till I thought I should die of fright. “It must be behind those jars, the way Zip acts,” she said; and she took the broom and knocked over all the jars with a crash. Well! I thought my time had surely come. My eyes filled with tears and my heart almost broke as I thought of my dear mother and all my sisters and brothers so happy at home.

But just in that terrible moment I happened to remember what my mother had said about running into that other hole in case anything should happen, so with one bound I was on the floor and the funny thing with long, white wool and sharp teeth made a grab for me. I could feel his hot breath close upon me and I could almost feel his sharp teeth when I heard the big giant with dresses on say: “Catch him, Zip.”

But surely a kind fate must have been with me for I was too quick for them. I never ran so fast in my life. I fairly flew till I found the hole behind the door and jumped in and ran along till I found myself once more at home, where all the family were frightened almost to death at my absence.

After that terrible experience I shall always do what my mother tells me to, for after all, she knows best.

Jessie Juliet Knox.

ABOUT A SPARROW.

There have been tales told about this curious little rowdy among birds. He was a nuisance; he drove our song and grub-eating birds away; he also littered the cornices of buildings and made of himself a pest in general. There have been other tales told about the cute chap who perches upon a wire near the window and rocks his clever head toward you when you tap against the pane; and still another story is told concerning the lynching of one by a flock of the brisk chaps. Some say they took a bit of twine, fastened it to a wire, secured the victim, and induced him to put his head through a loop; then drew the twine and scattered, leaving a lot of wise men to gaze upon the wonderful spectacle, which the newspapers took up and printed. I have watched birds for years and I never saw an incident of the sort—the lynching of a sparrow by his fellow sparrows! A sparrow has been caught in the loop of a bit of twine fastened to a wire or a cornice; but no sparrow ever deliberately put the twine up and lynched one of his rowdy brood. He wouldn’t do it simply because he hasn’t got bird instinct enough to follow out such a tragedy. I will tell you a little incident concerning a sparrow which I know to be true. It didn’t find a place in any newspaper, either, simply because I never gave it much thought until now, hence never mentioned it before.

I had noticed upon arising for several mornings in the early spring a half dozen or so of sparrows congregated in a sunny spot of the roof below. At first I paid no attention to it, for the sparrow is apt to go where he pleases, man’s wishes to the contrary notwithstanding. But the little chaps were there every morning, and in the same sunny spot. I was curious to know why they came there, and I went down stairs one morning to watch them from a more close point of observation. I got there before they came. I stood back of a closed blind, peeped through the slats and waited. When the sun-rays fell upon the spot close to the window the little fellows began to come—each with a morsel of food. They twittered and hopped about as if they were enjoying the morning fancy. Then they scattered and took wings to chimneys, cornices and wires. I opened the blinds and looked out. I saw one lone, little sparrow feeding. I bent over the sill. He did not fly away. I reached out and took him in. He fluttered and struggled. His eyes were covered with a film. He was blind.

H. S. Keller.

THE WHITE-THROATED SPARROW.
(Zonotrichia albicollis.)

“The sparrows are all meek and lowly birds.” They are not clothed in a plumage of gorgeous hues, but are endowed with melodious voices in harmony with their surroundings. “Theirs are the quaint lullaby songs of childhood.” Their plain coats are a means of protection, for they frequent the fields, the hedges and the low shrubs of the woodland borders. Some of their relatives, the grosbeaks, the goldfinch and the finches, are more brilliantly colored and are more arboreal in their habits.

The White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis) is one of the handsomest of the sparrows. It is one of the exquisite parts of nature. Migratory in habits, its range covers all of Eastern North America, nesting from Michigan and Massachusetts northward and wintering from the latter state southward to Florida.

Its scientific name is descriptive of the marked color characteristics of its crown and throat. Zonotrichia means hair or crown bands, and albicollis is from the Latin meaning white-throated. It is sometimes called Peabody Bird, especially by the New Englanders, with whom Peabody is an important traditional name, and they hear the birds say in its song “I—I Pea-body, Pea-body, Pea-body.” This rendering of its plaintive song is a caricature, yet the name clings to the bird even in other parts of the country. The reserved manner of its movements would hardly lead one to expect that a beautiful song could flow from its white throat. This song is so well defined that the notation may be written on the musical staff. Mr. Chapman says: “In September, when the hedgerows and woodland undergrowths begin to rustle with sparrows, juncos and towhees, I watch eagerly for the arrival of these welcome fall songsters.” We cannot forbear quoting the words of that great student of bird life, Audubon, who says of the White-Throat’s habit in autumn, “How it comes and how it departs are quite unknown to me. I can only say that, all of a sudden, the edges of the fields bordering on creeks or swampy places and overgrown with different species of vines, sumac bushes, briers and the taller kinds of grasses, appear covered with birds. They form groups, sometimes containing from thirty to fifty individuals, and live together in harmony. They are constantly moving up and down among these recesses, with frequent jerkings of the tail, and uttering a note common to the tribe. From the hedges and thickets they issue one by one, in quick succession, and ramble to the distance of eight or ten yards, hopping and scratching, in quest of small seeds, and preserving the utmost silence. When the least noise is heard or alarm given, and frequently, as I thought, without any alarm at all, they all fly back to their covert, pushing directly into the thickest part of it. A moment elapses, when they become reassured, and ascending to the highest branches and twigs open a little concert, which, although of short duration, is extremely sweet. There is much plaintive softness in their note, which I wish, kind reader, I could describe to you; but this is impossible, although it is yet ringing in my ears, as if I were in those very fields where I have so often listened to it with delight. No sooner is their music over than they return to the field, and thus continue alternately sallying forth and retreating during the greater part of the day. At the approach of night they utter a sharper note, consisting of a single twit, repeated in a smart succession by the whole group, and continuing until the first hooting of some owl frightens them into silence. Yet, often during fine nights I have heard the little creatures emit, here and there, a twit, as if to assure each other that all’s well.”

WHITE-THROATED SPARROW.
(Zonotrichia albicollis.)
About Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.

The nest, too, is a neat creation of small roots, coarse grass, bark and moss and lined with a bedding of fine grass and moss. It is usually placed on the ground in fields or open woods, where it is protected by the taller grasses. Sometimes, however, low bushes or the lower branches of trees are selected. So careful is the White-Throat in the constructing of its nest not to disturb the surrounding vegetation, and so neutral is the color of the material used, that one may hunt for a long time without finding it unless he luckily stumbles upon it.

A PLANT THAT MELTS ICE.

To say that a plant can melt ice is to assert a miracle seemingly too great for even Nature’s powers to compass, but a traveler lately returned from the Alps has witnessed this wonderful phenomenon, while Grant Allen and other authorities confirm the fact that the Alpine Soldanella melts for its blossom a passage through the ice by power of its own internal heat.

The majority of tourists visit the Alps in August; therefore they miss a rare sight, that of a daring little shrub opening its fringed blue buds in the very middle of the snow sheet, and often showing its slender head above a layer of ice, in the most incredible fashion.

We may regard the Alps as unpeopled solitudes, but to Alpine plants they are a veritable world of competing life types.

Those only fitted for the struggle survive.

The botanists tell us that the Soldanella is heavily handicapped in the race. In the first place, it is obliged to eke out a livelihood in the mountain belt just below the snow line; further, it is a very low growing variety, and is quickly obscured and overtopped by the dense and rapid growth of its taller rivals; hence its anxiety to seize its one chance in life at the earliest possible moment.

To attain the end of its being, the perpetuation of its species, it must steal a march upon its companions, as it were, and show itself while they are still locked in sleep, and when its insect fertilizers, fresh from their cocoons, can see and visit it.

To accomplish its purpose it has made ample preparations.

All through the previous summer its round leaves, admirably fitted to their purpose, have been spread to the mountain sun and gathered in the fuel to be burned later on.

When winter arrives the leaves had grown thick in rich material and so leathery that no amount of snow could injure them.

The first warmth of spring melting the edges of the snow sheet sends the moisture trickling down to the Soldanella’s roots. This, acting upon them as water upon malting barley, brings about germination.

The plant, absorbing the oxygen in the air under the ice and combining it with the fuel in its own substance, melts its way into the open air. A fragile flower forcing its way through a solid crust of ice. Literally, not metaphorically, a slow combustion store.

This novel feat is accomplished every season, yet comparatively few observers note it.

Louise Jamison.

THE HUMMINGBIRDS.
Maxime miranda in minimus!

Minutest of the feathered kind,

Possessing every charm combined,

Nature, in forming thee, designed

That thou shouldst be,

A proof within how little space

She can comprise such perfect grace,

Rendering the lovely, fairy race

Beauty’s epitome.

—Charlotte Smith.

The discovery of

“The rare little bird of the bower,

Bird of the musical wing,”

being coincident with that of the New World, the ancients were denied the exhilarating shock of delight that has been vouchsafed to their descendants when that

“——Quick feathered spangled shot,

Rapid as thought from spot to spot,

Showing the fairy humming-bird,”

and their writings lack the glamour of his “glossy, varying dyes;” for, according to Lesson, the first mention which is made of hummingbirds in the narratives of adventurers who proceeded to America, not with the design of studying its natural productions, but for the discovery of gold, dates from 1558.

Of the name hummingbird or hum-bird, Professor Newton says its earliest use, as yet discovered, is said to be by Thomas Morton in The New England Canaan, printed in 1632, while in 1646 Sir Thomas Browne wrote: “So have all Ages conceaved, and most are still ready to sweare, the Wren is the least of Birds, yet the discoveries of America, and even of our own Plantations, shewed us one farre lesse, that is the Hum-bird, not much exceeding a Beetle.” Mr. Ridgway cites the case of Mr. Benjamin Buttivant, writing from Boston in 1697, who told of a hum-bird that he fed with honey, that was “A Prospect to many Comers.”

“The earliest notice of the common Ruby-throat that I have been able to find,” Mr. Ridgway continues, “is an extract from a letter written from Boston in New England, October 26, 1670, by John Winthrop, Esq., governor of Connecticut, to Francis Willoughby, Esq., and published in the philosophical Transactions.” This letter reads as follows:

“I send you withal, a little Box, with a Curiosity in it, which perhaps will be counted a trifle, yet ’tis rarely to be met with, even here. It is the curiously contrived nest of the Humming-Bird, so called from the humming noise it maketh as it flies. ’Tis an exceeding little Bird, and only seen in Summer, and mostly in gardens, flying from flower, sucking Honey out of the flowers as the Bee doth; as it flieth not lighting on the flower, but hovering over it, sucking with its long Bill a sweet substance. There are in the same Nest two of that Bird’s eggs. Whether they used to have more at once I know not. I never saw but one of these Nests before, and that was sent over formerly with some other Rarities, but the vessel miscarrying, you received them not.”

Of the long bill with which it sucketh the sweet substance, the tongue is the essential feature, so far as sustenance is concerned; consisting of a long double cylinder, “like a double-barreled gun,” Goodrich thought—a most convenient instrument for imbibing nectar—flattened and sometimes barbed at the end, for the capture of the minute insects that constitute the less æsthetic portion of their nutriment—for it has been many times demonstrated that, airy and fairy as they are (the size of the stomach not exceeding the globe of the eye, and scarcely a sixth part as large as the heart, which, in turn, is remarkably large, nearly the size of the cranium), they cannot live by ambrosia alone, nor yet by love, but must vary both with an occasional relish of aphides and infinitesimal spiders.

Of “that Bird’s two eggs,” Mr. Chapman says: “As far as known, all hummingbirds lay two white eggs—frail, pearly ellipses—that after ten days’ incubation develop into a tangle of dark limbs and bodies, which no one could think of calling birds, much less winged gems.”

It has been a matter of doubt to many whether hummingbirds ever rested at all or spent their lives in the air exclusively, but Mr. Gould states authoritatively: “Although many short intermissions of rest are taken during the day, the bird may be said to live in the air—an element in which it performs every kind of evolution with the utmost ease, frequently rising perpendicularly, flying backwards, pirouetting or dancing off, as it were.”

It was the belief of the Duke of Argyle that no bird could fly backward, a theory that he stated with emphasis in his Reign of Law, but it has been proved that he reckoned without “the winglet of the fairy hummingbird,” which seems to be the exception to prove a reigning law of Nature.

Montgomery makes of the whole Trochilidæ family this inspired explanation:

“Art thou a bird, a bee, or butterfly?

‘Each and all three;—a bird

A bee collecting sweets from bloom to bloom,

A butterfly in brilliancy of plume.’”

The blooms from which he collects his sweets are of the tubular flowers almost exclusively, as a mark, possibly, of his appreciation of their invention for him and at his request, as told by Albert Bigelow Paine:

“The clover, said the humming-bird,

Was fashioned for the bee,

But ne’er a flower, as I have heard,

Was ever made for me.

A passing zephyr paused, and stirred

Some moonlit drops of dew

To earth; and for the humming-bird

The honeysuckle grew.”

Of his manner of hanging before his tubular flowers Goodrich says: “He poises or suspends himself on wing for the space of two or three seconds so steadily that his wings become invisible and you can plainly discern the pupil of his eye, looking round with great quickness and circumspection. The glossy green of his back and the fire of his throat, dazzling in the sun, form altogether a most interesting appearance.”

This appearance Alexander Wilson pictures thus:

“While richest roses though in crimson drest,

Spring from the splendors of his gorgeous breast.

What heavenly tints in mingling radiance fly!

Each rapid movement gives a different dye;

Like scales of burnished gold they dazzling show,

Now sink to shade, now like a furnace glow!”

It is little wonder that Buffon exclaimed, “Nature has loaded it with all the gifts of which she has only given other birds a share!” Yet Mr. Ridgway considers the Count de Buffon’s laudation as excessive because the “absence of melodious voice is, as a rule, a conspicuous deficiency of the tribe”; and in 1693 Mr. Hammersley of Coventry stated, “God, in many of his creatures, is bountiful, but not lavish, for I did observe the hummingbirds for several years, and never heard them sing.”

Goldsmith says that all travelers agree that they have a little interrupted chirrup, but Labat asserts that they have a most pleasing melancholly melody in their voices, though small and proportioned to the organs that produce it.

It is known that a few of the more robust species of Jamaica and Mexico warble a pigmy melody, and Mr. Gosse says that the Vervain hummingbird of Jamaica is the only one known to him that has a real song, warbling in a very weak but very sweet tone a continuous melody for ten minutes at a time.

But the poet Rogers apprehended something more than is perceptible to the scientific consciousness, for he exclaims in The Voyage of Columbus:

“—There quivering rise

Wings that reflect the glow of evening skies!

Half bird, half fly, the fairy king of flowers

Reigns there, and revels through the fragrant hours;

Gem full of life and joy and song divine!”

Could the compressed, intense, vehement little sprite be expanded to the dimensions of the ordinary folk of air, would the magnified musical and physical representation be as entrancing as are the fleeting glimpses of the fairy and the elusive hints of melody that so nearly escape us now?

For this electric spark, like an erratic meteorite of topaz and ruby and gold,

“As if inlaid

With brilliants from the mine, or made

Of tearless rainbows, such as span

Th’ unclouded skies of Peristan,”

hovering between heaven and earth in a mist created by its own prismatic wings, might almost be believed an exemplification of light itself as scientifically defined, “a form of radiant energy,” and it is the nearest approach to a disembodied spirit that lies within the range of mortal vision. So while it is believed that its song is but a feeble twittering, it may yet be as much musician as it is bird, and emit strains of melody too exquisite and finely drawn for human apprehension, and of which the notes that reach us are but the deeper tones of a delicate and etherial ariose.

Juliette A. Owen.

EACH IN ITS OWN WAY.

There’s never a rose in all the world

But makes some green spray sweeter;

There’s never a wind in all the sky

But makes some bird-wing fleeter;

There’s never a star but brings to heaven

Some silver radiance tender;

And never a rosy cloud but helps

To crown the sunset splendor;

No robin but may thrill some heart

His dawnlight gladness voicing;

God gives us all some small, sweet way

To set the world rejoicing.

—Selected.

PARULA WARBLER.
(Compsothlypis americana.)
Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.

THE PARULA WARBLER.
(Compsothlypis americana.)

Hither the busy birds shall flutter,

With the light timber for their nests,

And, pausing from their labor, utter

The morning sunshine in their breasts.

—James Russell Lowell.

The Parula or Blue Yellow-backed Warbler, as it is sometimes called, is one of the smallest and daintiest representatives of the family of wood warblers. Like the other species of warblers it is one of the last spring migrants to reach its Northern summer home. Retiring and unobtrusive in its habits, it is to be admired for its “plain and modest beauty.” Though delicately colored, its plumage is not nearly so striking as that of many of the other species of the family. It enjoys the higher branches of its woodland retreat, and here it seeks its food. Graceful in all its motions, it flits from branch to branch; hanging by its feet, it peers under the leaves and along the twigs.

In the summer the Parula is a resident of Eastern North America, but in the winter it seeks the warmer climate of Florida and southward. While migrating it is well distributed over its range, and may frequently be seen flying from shrub to shrub. Like the other warblers its flights are short and most of the time it is hidden by the foliage. The longer flights are by night. The days are spent in seeking insects, upon which it feeds almost exclusively. This, the habit of all the warblers, explains the Parula’s sudden disappearance from a locality where it may have been common for a single day.

Near the end of May it retires to the swampy woodlands where the gray Spanish moss hangs pendant from the branches and shrubs. Here the Parula makes its nest, a globular or pencil home, usually in bunches of the festooned moss. The four or five white eggs are marked near the larger end with specks of light brown and lilac. Its song is neither interesting nor striking, but is peculiarly in harmony with the voices of spring and as Mr. Chapman says: “When the cypresses are enveloped in a haze of lace-like blossoms and the woods are fragrant with the delicious odor of yellow jasmine, the dreamy softness of the air is voiced by the Parula’s drowsy song.”

Neltje Blanchan has most charmingly written about this dainty bird. She says: “A number of such airy, tiny beauties flitting about among the blossoms of the shrubbery on a bright May morning and swaying on the slenderest branches with their inimitable grace, is a sight that the memory should retain into old age. They seem the very embodiment of life, joy, beauty, grace; of everything lovely that birds by any possibility could be. Apparently they are wafted about the garden; they fly with no more effort than a dainty lifting of the wings, as if to catch the breeze that seems to lift them as it might a bunch of thistledown. They go through a great variety of charming posturings as they hunt for their food upon the blossoms and tender, fresh twigs, now creeping like a nuthatch along the bark and peering into the crevices, now gracefully swaying and balancing like a goldfinch upon a slender, pendant stem. One little sprite pauses in its hunt for insects to raise its pretty head and trill a short and wiry song.”

A DAINTY LOVER.

All animal life is wonderful and much of it is beautiful, but it seems to me there can be nothing prettier or more subtle in all the immense accumulation of the folk lore of human courtship and marriage than the following practice of a certain Mexican bird.

He belongs to a rarely beautiful species of the Paradise family.

To shield the privacy of his wooing and wedding he builds a dainty little cone-shaped hut, about which he contrives a marvelous little landscape garden.

First he makes a sward of green moss and beds and parterres of crimson berries, tiny bright flowers and gold and silver sand and grains. Here and there he puts a pearly pebble or tiny pink shell. And so long as his love making lasts he drags away and replaces each flower as it fades, keeping the little Eden tidy, gay and sweet for his tiny love.

This sounds like fiction, but is scientific fact.

Louise Jamison.

A BIRD NOTE.

Robin Feeding Young: Scene, the base of a large pine tree in the corner of a lawn; actors, a mother robin and two of her young.

I was much interested in their proceedings and watched them for some time. One of the young ones did not seem to understand matters very clearly and often failed to do what mother robin wished it to. The other one, however, was a very apt pupil, and did many bright things. Finally it began to gather food on its own account and succeeded in capturing several worms, small butterflies, etc. But it did not stop here; it remembered its nest mate, and, following the example of the mother bird, collected food and placed it in the mouth of the less active learner. A very good example of how closely parents are imitated, in the bird world, as well as in the human subject.

The above incident as witnessed and recorded in the writer’s note book, seem too good to be lost sight of, and I trust they may prove of interest to all.

Berton Mercer.

GOLDENROD.

As nature lifts her gates from week to week,

New beauties rise God’s wondrous power to speak;

And now, clad in her glory as of old,

The Goldenrod uplifts her crowns of gold.

John Wesley Waite.

BALLADE.

I found myself one day all, all alone,

For pastime in a field with blossoms strewn.

I do not think the world a field could show

With herbs of perfume so surpassing rare;

But when I passed beyond the green hedge-row,

A thousand flowers around me flourished fair,

White, pied and crimson, in the summer air;

Among the which I heard a sweet bird’s tone.

I found myself one day all, all alone,

For pastime in a field with blossoms strewn.

Her song it was so tender and so clear

That all the world listened with love; then I

With stealthy feet a-tiptoe drawing near,

Her golden head and golden wings could spy,

Her plumes that flashed like rubies ’neath the sky,

Her crystal beak and throat and bosom’s zone.

I found myself one day all, all alone,

For pastime in a field with blossoms strewn.

Fain would I snare her, smit with mighty love;

But arrow-like she soared, and through the air

Fled to her nest upon the boughs above;

Wherefore to follow her is all my care,

For haply I might lure her by some snare

Forth from the woodland wild where she is flown.

I found myself one day all, all alone,

For pastime in a field with blossoms strewn.

Yea, I might spread some net or woven wile;

But since of singing she doth take such pleasure,

Without or other art or other guile

I seek to win her with a tuneful measure;

Therefore in singing spend all my leisure,

To make by singing this sweet bird my own.

I found myself one day all, all alone,

For pastime in a field with blossoms strewn.

—Angelo Poliziano, (1454-1494.)

TOURMALINE.

Early in the eighteenth century some children of Holland, playing on a warm summer’s day in a court yard with a few bright colored stones, noticed that these possessed a strange power when warmed by the heat of the sun. They attracted and held (just as a magnet attracts iron) ashes, straws and bits of paper. On reporting this strange discovery to their parents the latter, it is said, could give no explanation of the curious property, but a relic of their knowledge of it is left in the name of “aschentreckers” or “ash-drawers” which they gave the stones and by which they were known for a long time.

Such was the method of introduction to the civilized world of the mineral now known as Tourmaline, a mineral which in variety of color, composition and properties is one of the most interesting in Nature.

The lapidaries who had given the Dutch children the stones for playthings did not recognize them as different from the other gems in which they were accustomed to deal. So to the present day, although Tourmaline is considerably used in jewelry, it is rarely ever called by that name. The green varieties are often known as Brazilian Emerald, Chrysolite or Peridot, some varieties of blue as Brazilian Sapphire, others as Indicolite, the colorless as Achroite, and the red as Rubellite, Siberite, and even as Ruby.

It is only somewhat recently that these different stones have been recognized as being varieties of a single mineral species which is known by the name Tourmaline. This name comes from a Cingalese word (turamali) which was applied to the first Tourmaline gems sent from Ceylon to Holland.

At one time the name Schorl was chiefly applied to the species. This was before the means of distinguishing mineral species were as well understood as they are now, and a large number of minerals and even rocks were included under the name Schorl. One by one, however, they were distinguished by separate names until Schorl included only Tourmaline, and shortly afterward the name Schorl was dropped altogether.

In its opaque form, colored either black or brown, Tourmaline is a comparatively common mineral. It accompanies many so-called metamorphic rocks, i. e., rocks which have been changed by heat and pressure from their original condition, and is also common in granite and other eruptive rocks. As a rock forming mineral it often occurs as long, slender prisms, frequently about the size of a darning needle and radiating in all directions. The only mineral for which it is likely to be mistaken in this form is Hornblende. It can be distinguished from this in the following manner: On fusing the powdered mineral with a mixture of bisulphate of potash and fluor spar (best done on a little loop of platinum wire) Tourmaline will color the flame green, while Hornblende will produce no coloration.

The black opaque crystals often reach a large size, as some are known to be four feet in length. Both black and brown Tourmaline are usually opaque, and hence have no value as gems. The Tourmalines available for gems are transparent and have a great variety of color.

The gem Tourmalines are to be found in only a few localities. They occur in Maine, Connecticut and California in our own country, and also in Brazil, Russia and Ceylon. The crystals are usually in the form of long, slender prisms. They often have the peculiarity of being differently colored in different portions. Thus a crystal may be green at one end and red at the other, and in cross section may show a blue center, then a colorless zone, then one of red and then one of green. Some of the crystals from Paris, Me., change from white at one termination to emerald green, then light green, then pink, and finally are colorless at the other termination. In some crystals again the red passes to blue, the blue to green and the green to black.

TOURMALINE.

Left Column: Green Tourmaline (Brazil.) Green Tourmaline (Haddam, Conn.) Cross Section of Green Tourmaline (Cal.) Center Column: Red Tourmaline or Rubellite (Island of Elba.) Brown Tourmaline (Gouverneur, N. Y.) Red Tourmaline or Rubellite in Lepidolite (Cal.) Right column: Black Tourmaline (Finland).

Exactly what produces these differences of color is not known. It is known that black Tourmaline has an excess of iron, the red and green an excess of sodium and lithium, and the yellow and brown an excess of magnesium in their composition. These same differences of composition characterize similar colors in portions of the same crystal as well as separate crystals. Hence the evidence is quite conclusive that the color in some way depends on the composition. Many transparent Tourmalines, while appearing of a uniform color when viewed in any one direction, exhibit different colors when viewed in different directions. Thus, one of the long, slender crystals may appear green when held lengthwise in front of the eye, but when looked at from the end appears brown. Again, some crystals appear perfectly transparent when viewed perpendicularly to the sides of the prism, but when viewed from the end are perfectly opaque. This may be true even when the thickness is less in the latter direction. Both these properties are due to the arrangement of the molecules of Tourmaline, which is such as to make the power of absorbing light different in different directions.

The form of crystals of Tourmaline is usually that of a three-sided prism. The sides of the prism are usually marked by narrow parallel lines called striæ, and the prism may be more or less rounded by the addition of other planes.

If a doubly terminated crystal be examined carefully, it will be seen that the planes on the two ends are not alike, either in number or inclination. On one end there may be three planes, on the other six, or even twelve. If the planes on one end make a blunt termination, those on the other may make a sharply pointed one. Such a peculiarity of crystal form is possessed by but few minerals. Those possessing it are said to be hemimorphic, i. e., half formed. In such minerals it is evident that the forces of attraction by which the molecules were arranged differed in character at one end from those at the other. In other words, a separation of the molecular forces seems to have taken place, one kind going to one end and the other force to the opposite end. Now, it is a curious fact that most crystals which exhibit this peculiarity of form are also pyroelectric, i. e., become electric on heating. It was this development of electricity which caused the stones with which the Dutch children played, to pick up ashes, paper, etc., when the stones were warmed by the heat of the sun. Anyone can repeat their observation by gently heating crystals or even fragments of Tourmaline and applying them to bits of paper. The electrical attraction will often be found to be very strong, though it varies with different crystals. The fragments should not be overheated, the electricity being most strongly developed between 100 and 200 degrees Fahrenheit. A study of the kinds of electricity developed by the heat shows that positive electricity is produced at one end and negative at the other. Now, this exactly corresponds with what we have seen of the form of the crystal, and shows that the polar arrangement of the molecules producing different shapes at the two ends, also produces corresponding electrical properties. Crystal form, heat, electricity, and even light, are therefore seen to have intimate connection, and it may be that this interesting mineral will furnish us a means of learning more about these forces.

In composition Tourmaline is a complex silicate chiefly of aluminum and boron. Iron, magnesium, the alkalies, and water also enter in varying amounts into it. In fact, so complicated is its chemical nature that perhaps no other mineral has been so often analyzed or had its analyses so much discussed.

Ruskin, in his “Ethics of the Dust,” thus describes its composition: “A little of everything; there’s always flint and clay and magnesia in it; and the black is iron according to its fancy; and there’s boracic acid, if you know what that is, and if you don’t, I cannot tell you to-day, and it doesn’t signify; and there’s potash and soda, and, on the whole, the chemistry of it is more like a mediæval doctor’s prescription than the making of a respectable mineral.”

As to its hardness and specific gravity, Tourmaline may be said to be both harder and heavier than quartz, its hardness being 7-7.5 in the scale of hardness of which the diamond is 10. Its specific gravity is 2.98-3.20. These qualities fit it admirably for use as a gem. It is, however, quite brittle and even at times friable. Cracks therefore frequently cut across good crystals and spoil what would otherwise make a good gem. It is very common to find tourmalines in the rocks broken into a number of pieces and the fragments “mended” together with quartz or calcite. This has been true of the black Tourmaline shown in the accompanying plate. Scarcely any other mineral exhibits this change so often as Tourmaline, a result due probably to its brittleness and the character of the rock in which it occurs.

I have shown how one of the most remarkable properties of Tourmaline was discovered by children. It is also interesting to know that the locality of the finest Tourmalines in the world was discovered by two boys named Elijah L. Hamlin and Ezekiel Holmes. They were interested in the study of minerals and spent much of their leisure time searching for them. One day in the fall, having been out many hours hunting for new minerals, they were about to return home when a gleam of something green at the roots of a tree caught their eye. Eagerly bringing it to light, they found it to be a beautiful green Tourmaline. A fall of snow that night prevented their obtaining more of the crystals, but the following spring they returned and secured many fine gems. For many years thereafter the locality furnished gems of purest ray serene which have gone to adorn the coronets of kings and enriched the mineral cabinets of the world.