“Haw-haw-haw!” rang out clearly from the top of the very sapling itself.
“That is no bird,” I announced to the swamp; “it is an imp of the forest trying to lure me to destruction in the jungle,” and I turned and fled.
I felt better when I met a cotton-tail rabbit, though he did not stop to be greeted; and still better when I reached the sunlight and the pink and white laurel pasture; and when I neared the bars and saw my horse grazing patiently on the other side, I was quite myself again. On an upright stake at the side of the bars sat a strange, yellowish bird. I did not know him, for I had not so many bird friends then as I have now. Suddenly he rose in the air with a shriek, his legs dangling helplessly. “Is this a magical pasture,” I said to myself, “where birds are shot without the report of a gun?” and then with legs still dangling, he made a beautiful gyration in the air, and calling out: “That’s it—that’s it—tut—tut—tut!” disappeared in the direction of the thicket. This was my first attendance upon one of the remarkable performances of Mr. Yellow-Breasted Chat, and I can without hesitation pronounce it the most wonderful in all bird-dom.
The next day I invited some skeptical friends to prove the truth of my story. So at the same time of day we drove up the long hills till we spied the pink and white of the laurel, and halted at the gray bars. The pasture which had been deserted the day before, was now spotted with cows, the laurel had begun to fade, and though we waited one long, weary hour, not a sight or sound of a bird of any description did we see. The towhee and the shore lark whom I had seen the day before, seemed to have dropped out of existence, and those disagreeable people hinted that even the brown thrasher was a myth. But as I ventured alone into the dark swamp, hoping still to stir up Mr. Chat, I came face to face with the beautiful purple-fringed orchis—the large, early variety—blooming alone in the damp thicket, so straight and stately, and of such a delicate, refined beauty, I fell on my knees beside it, and felt it to be ample compensation for any disappointments. So you see it is true that there is not wealth enough in all the world to force a bird-song at the moment when you want it, but at the same time and in the same swamp the purple orchis may be blooming for you.
Nell Kimberly McElhone.
AGATES
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.
Center Column BANDED AGATE (Lake Superior). MOSS AGATE. Bottom Row BANDED AGATE (Brazil). CLOUDED AGATE.
AGATE.
Agate is a form of the common mineral quartz. From other forms of that mineral it differs in being made up of minute layers and in being variegated in color. The colors may appear in the form of bands or clouds. The banded agates appear to be made up of parallel layers, sometimes straight, but more often wavy or curved in outline. These layers or bands differ in color from one another, exhibiting shades of white, gray, blue, yellow, red, brown or black. To the naked eye they appear to vary in width from the finest lines to a width of a quarter of an inch or more. In reality, all the bands visible to the naked eye are made up of finer ones, to be seen only with the microscope. Thus in a single inch of thickness of agate Sir David Brewster, using the microscope, counted seventeen thousand and fifty layers. Besides differing in color, the layers differ in transparency and porosity, and these properties add to the variegated appearance of the agate.