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KINGBIRD.

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cinity of their nests. One of their most peculiar traits is a they have of using cast-off snake skins in the construction of their nests. It has been suggested that these are employed for the purpose of frightening away squirrels, etc., that might attempt to rob them; but this would hardly seem called for in view of the bird's well known pugnacious disposition. It is easy enough to understand how scattered individuals of almost any species of birds might be attracted by the crisp papery quality of these delicate outer skins tossed aside by the snakes as fast as they are outgrown, to lie abandoned, tangled amid grass stems or caught on some brier or creeping vine. But why practically all the great crested flycatchers in this country should find them so desirable, when they are neglected by all other birds, flycatchers or not, is one of nature's conundrums still without an answer.

The members of this particular colony of flycatchers appear to occupy themselves mainly in flying restlessly from tree to tree, shouting their strident call notes back and forth from one to another and paying less atten

tion to the mere matter of catching flies than most birds bearing their family name; in fact they are said to exist to a considerable extent on berries of various kinds in the season when these are ripe. They pay us but a comparatively short visit each season, seldom being seen before the last of May or after the last of August.

The olive-sided flycatcher is a smaller, grayish brown species, in which the light colored under plumage is restricted to a yellowish white stripe extending from the bill to the under tail coverts, the sides of the breast being of the same color as the back. It is further distinguished by wearing a tuft of pale fluffy feathers on each side of the back overlapping the wings. Its manners are a good deal like those of the last named, though it is more given to quarrelling with members of its own family. It is also quicker and more active in its movements. It has a rather shrill whistling note, subject to considerable variation, and capable of expressing every shade of feeling from rage to tenderness. It is a fairly common species here in summer and early autumn, but decidedly rare further south, nesting most abundantly in Maine and southeastern Canada. usually see them perched on the top of slender dead pines in clearings on hillsides, frequently darting out and hovering in the air, or picking up a quarrel with some of their neighbors.

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The kingbird or bee martin is one of our largest and most clearly marked species; nearly black above and pure white beneath, with a broad band of white across the tip of the tail, the feathers of the crown are orange or golden and white, but are usually hidden by the dark feathers at each side. It is a well known bird through

out the country, with a long list of friends, and an almost equally large number of enemies, who claim that it is altogether too fond of fighting and of the taste of honey bees; but his friends know him to be courageous and cheerful, a great destroyer of harmful insects, and possessed of a most attractive, high pitched, twittering cry, which falls little short of being musical, besides giving the farmers timely warning of the approach of hawks and crows and driving them

missing, the bobolink is pouring forth his song of triumph from the nearest tree. But I cannot recall ever having seen the kingbird attempt to avenge himself on his tormentor, who may frequently be seen chasing him madly about the fields and through the orchards, especially in early nesting time; later in the season the two appear to get upon rather better terms with each other, and after the bobolink's departure for the south the kingbird is usually seen associated with the bluebirds and robins on the most amicable terms. He may often be seen to liberate some of his superfluous energy by darting up into the air from his tree-top and zig.. zagging rapidly about for a few seconds, with a somewhat more musical

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back to their native woods if they attempt to come too near. Generally speaking, he manages to keep on pretty good terms with birds of his own size, with the exception of the bobolink, who, though commonly one of the most good-natured and easy-go

ing birds in existence, appears to hate the very sight of the kingbird, and strangely enough is pretty apt to come out ahead. His favorite method of attack is to come suddenly from behind when the kingbird is alighted near the ground and tumble him ignominiously heels over head into the grass; and when the discomfited kingbird emerges, with his feathers all awry and perchance some of them

ring than usually perceptible in his clamor; he frequently does this in the evening after it has grown quite dark. About the last of August they begin their autumnal migrations, sailing swiftly along in considerable flocks, their white breasts glistening in the sunlight as they go. Their

flight at such times is much more easy and graceful than we is ordinarily the case, so that at a distance they might easily be mistaken for white-bellied swallows, as they fly high then and so appear much smaller and slenderer than at other times.

To my mind, the kingbird displays himself to the best advantage when hovering for insects above the grass or sweeping with hesitating, interrupted flight from post to post along the fences, with fan-like tail spread to the form of an exact semicircle, the tips of the feathers marking a con

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spicuous crescent of white. He has always been fond of fences, and seems perfectly willing to change the more attractive looking rail fences of former days for the modern structure of barbed wire; so long as it is a fence, and runs through closely cropped clayey pastures with scattered willow and elm trees and a brook or two for every mile, he is satisfied, for though habitually nesting in trees he is essentially a bird of the open country, even in the nesting season. When the young birds are hatched, both parents are very likely to be found spending their days at a considerable distance from the nest, only visiting it from time to time with the food they have captured. The Arkansas kingbird, a native of

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ARKANSAS KINGBIRD.

FORK-TAILED FLYCATCHER.

the western plains, occasionally finds its way to the northern and eastern states. It appears to differ from the eastern species only in its color, which is several shades lighter on the back and strikingly like that of the great crested flycatcher beneath, the yellow and ash colors coming together in a

precisely similar manner on the breast.

The forktailed flycatcher represents a certain type of this family, that like the barn swallow appears to have developed extraordinarily. long outer tail feathers, probably to enable it to turn suddenly when in pursuit of insects. This feature, rare

among northern birds, is of fre

quent occurrence in the tropics; and catcher is only occasionally seen in true to this rule, the fork-tailed fly- the cooler parts of this country.

AN OLD IRISH GARDEN.

By E. S. Molesworth.

PO-DAY, amid the wintry blast,

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And snow, that o'er the landscape lies,
Across the sea my thoughts are cast

To other scenes, 'neath fairer skies.
Once more I loiter down the lane,
And listen to the plaintive strain,
The yellow-hammer's sweet refrain,
As lightly overhead he flies.

No more, no more, dear bird, I hear
The song that filled me with delight;
No more upon the hedgerow near

I see thee flit, a tiny sprite;
No more with lightsome heart I tread
The road that to the garden led;-
For ah! those golden days are fled,
And all my day is merged in night;-

The garden, where the roses grew

In rich profusion, fair and sweet;-
They turned about each ancient yew,

And wreathed with bloom the garden seat;

And where, beside the old red wall,

The great syringa, fair and tall,

Shed snowy blossoms over all,

To droop and die beneath our feet.

In that old garden, long ago,

A gentle lady, robed in gray,
Alone and lonely, to and fro,

Among the flowers used to stray.
In twilight hours (the story saith)
She wandered, like a gentle wraith,
Until the kindly hand of death

Freed her sad spirit from its clay.

And if within that garden old

You wander 'mid the dusk and dew,
A dim gray form you may behold

Start from the shadow of the yew;
Or, passing by some dim recess,
May hear the rustle of a dress.

And, shuddering, to yourself, confess

The Lady Rosamund walks with you.

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