Now, we all knew that Uncle was not disposed to pass over lightly even the least of our offenses, and what he would say, and what was more, do now, we dared not think. But Harvey was equal to the occasion. He knew Uncle’s weak point, and went towards him nonchalantly swinging the snakes who stuck out their heads as they swayed back and forth.
Now, to us children the snakes were just as nice and pretty as any of the animals, but they were quite the opposite to Uncle Charles. The great, writhing things, swaying to and fro as they twisted in Harvey’s hands and stuck out their heads, in which the eyes dully gleamed, filled him with loathing and disgust, not unmixed with terror.
All that Uncle Charles had meant to say vanished from his mind as he saw Harvey advancing upon him with the boa-constrictors, and he began to retreat more and more rapidly, but with ever decreasing dignity. Harvey still pursued.
“Why, Uncle,” we heard him say, “what’s the matter?” There was no response—Uncle Charles had gone home. But the circus was broken up.
I think it is better to draw a veil over the consequences of our circus. No circus is complete without a side-show—and ours was no exception. We never had another one—at least not in mother’s room.
Paul Brenton Eliot.
THE GRAY-CROWNED LEUCOSTICTE.
(Leucosticte tephrocotis.)
The Gray-crowned Leucosticte or Gray-crowned Rosy Finch, as it is often called, is a resident of the interior of British America during the warmer months. In the winter it passes southward, frequenting the Rocky Mountain region of the United States, where it is quite common on the eastern slopes. So far as known, within the border of the United States, it only nests in the Sierra Nevada in California. While on the slopes of the mountains this Finch is usually seen in flocks. During the most severe weather it will frequent settled districts, becoming quite tame, and it has been known to seek the sheltering cover of the nests of cliff swallows under the eaves of buildings. When in the fields it is a restless bird and quite shy.
Dr. R. W. Shufeldt, while stationed at Fort Fetterman, Wyoming, had an excellent opportunity to study the habits of this handsome bird. He captured eight, including both males and females, which he placed in a cage especially prepared for them. “In a few days they not only became accustomed to their quarters, but apparently thoroughly satisfied and happy. Flocks of their companions passing over were certain to be called down, to alight on the fences, the ground, and in fact, everything in the neighborhood of the cage, to even the cage itself.” The birds were given canary and flax seeds, cracked wheat and finally lettuce and other tender leaves, all of which they seemed to relish. Dr. Shufeldt also says:
“Every morning, as I approached the cage, a general and impatient chattering commenced for their breakfast and bath, and they immediately availed themselves of both in my presence. Often I deluged the entire cage, birds and all, with a large watering pot, and they enjoyed the sprinkling immensely. Later in the spring this part of the programme was followed by their pluming themselves in the sun, chattering among themselves and the males giving utterance to a low, subdued and plaintive sort of song, being different from the shrill whistle they gave to attract the attention of their passing fellows outside.” By the middle of May all the birds of this species had left the vicinity for their breeding grounds further north. Dr. Shufeldt’s captives did not even pair and early in July he released them. Their plumage seemed to be at its best in the early part of May.