diet consists of worms and insects. Good observers who have watched them here testify to the truth of this assertion. They do, in fact, consume but little corn or grain at any season, save when they cannot find a sufficient supply of insect food. When associated in such vast flocks as described by Wilson, they are necessarily granivorous.

THE QUAIL.

I have not yet seen any good reason for denying that the Quail is a Quail; nor can I understand why, in the new classifications of birds, the marks that formerly characterized species are now used to characterize genera. Let us pursue the same philosophical rule to its final results, and we shall arrive at the discovery that the different varieties of the common fowl constitute so many genera, and that the black and the white and the Seebright Bantams, for example, are species of the genus Galliparvus. But the Quail, whether it be itself or another bird, is now a rare inhabitant of New England. Thousands of its species were destroyed by the deep snows of the winter of 1856-57, and again by the cold winter of 1867-68. Indeed, every winter destroys great numbers of them. And as the Quail does not migrate, and never wanders any great distance from its birthplace, I cannot understand why its species could ever have been numerous so far north as the New England States, unless the vast numbers rendered it impossible for any accident of Nature to destroy so many that there should not be multitudes left. But since the white man came, the gun, the snare, and the winters united have nearly extirpated the whole

race.

For many years past I have seldom heard the musical voice of the Quail. Seldom is the haymaker in these days reminded of the approach of showers by his procla

mation of "More wet" from some adjoining fence. Not that the few that remain are no longer prophets, but they have become timid from the persecutions they have suffered, and have ceased to prophesy in the vicinity of the farm. Neither does the Quail any longer make known his presence to his mate by saying in musical tones, "Here's Bob White." He knows too well that this would lead to his discovery and death. Man, too short-sighted to understand his own selfish advantage in protecting the bird, and too avaricious to let pass the opportunity of buying a feast with a few cheap charges of powder and shot, will give him no peace.

A female Quail, leading her little brood under the shelter of pines to escape the notice of those who have intruded into her presence, is one of the most interesting sights in animated nature. The rapidity with which the young make their escape to some hiding-place in the grass or among the bushes, and the anxiety displayed by the mother, cannot fail to awaken our sympathy. If we sit still in ambush and watch for them, the mother, no longer aware of our presence, gives her cheerful call-note, when they all suddenly reappear and follow her, as chickens follow the hen. Their timidity and their expertness in wending their way through the thicket and then out on the open land, and their nimble motions as they forage in the pasture for grubs and insects, are an ample reward to any sympathetic observer for long and patient watching.

The destruction of this useful and interesting species by our winter snows is a public calamity; and nothing, it seems to me, can mitigate the evil save the building of artificial shelters, strewing around them some sort of grain to prevent their wandering far away from them. Our farmers have not sufficiently considered the advantages they might derive from this semi-domestication of the Quail and some other species that winter with us. Even

if this protection were offered them only that their surplus might be used to grace our tables, it would be found a profitable enterprise.

THE RUFFED GROUSE.

In May, if we were to wander into an extensive wood which is not a swamp, at a sufficient distance from any village tavern, we should probably hear the drumming of the Partridge. This peculiar sound is heard early in the morning and late in the evening, becoming more frequent and persistent as the breeding-season advances. It is made by the male, and is unlike any other sound I ever heard. I cannot compare it to the rumbling of distant thunder, as some do, because the sounds of thunder are irregular, while the strokes of the Partridge's wings are perfectly timed, and increase in rapidity as they decrease in loudness, until they die away in a faint, fluttering

vibration.

I think those observers are mistaken who believe this drumming to be made by striking or flapping his wings against his sides or against the log where he is standing. Samuels says: The bird resorts to a fallen trunk of a tree or log, and while strutting like a male Turkey, beats his wings against his sides and the log with considerable force. It commences very slowly, and after a few strokes gradually increases in velocity, and terminates with a rolling beat very similar to the roll of a drum." Dr. Brewer describes the sound as produced in the same manner, and this seems to be the universal opinion. On the contrary, the bird produces this sound by striking the shoulders of his wings together over his back, as the common Cock frequently does before he crows, and as the male Pigeon does when after dalliance with his mate he flies out exultingly a short distance from

his perch. It is very difficult to obtain sight of the bird while he is drumming, and then we cannot venture near enough to see his motions very distinctly. But whenever I have gained sight of one in the act of drumming, he seemed to me to elevate his wings and strike them together over his back, increasing the rapidity of these strokes, until the last was nothing more than the sound produced upon the air by the rapid vibration of the feathers of his wings and tail. A similar vibrating sound is made by the Turkey with his tail-feathers when strutting about the yard among the females.

It seems very improbable that the Grouse has sufficient power to make so much sound by flapping the concave surface of his wings against his downy sides. Birds cannot move their wings with so much force in this direction as in the opposite one; and so long as some uncertainty exists about it, it is the wisest course to reason from analogy, and to conclude that the Partridge makes this sound as similar ones are made by certain domestic birds. Many of our farmers believe that this bird stands on a log and makes the drumming sound by striking the shoulders of his wings against the log. Some think the log must therefore be hollow. But instances are well known where a bird has selected a rock for his drumming-place, when the same sound is produced.

As the flapping of the wings of the common Cock previous to crowing is a mode of expressing defiance, the same may be said of the drumming of the Partridge, who before and after his drumming struts about in the most. amusing way, placing himself in many graceful attitudes. All these actions are a part of the ceremony of courtship. They always, therefore, excite the jealousy of other males, who, if sufficiently bold, will immediately attack the drummer. The conqueror draws in his train the greater part of the females, and becomes their favorite.

FORAGING HABITS OF BIRDS.

THE different habits of foraging that distinguish the several tribes and species of birds deserve attention as indicating a similar difference in the character of their aliment. Birds, for example, that take their food chiefly from the surface of the ground forage in a different manner from others that collect it from under the surface. Swallows catch all their food while on the wing, and give proof by this habit that they take only winged insects; but their manners differ essentially from those of the fly-catchers, that do not take their prey on the wing, but seize it as it passes by their perch. Robins and blackbirds gather their fare entirely from the ground, but their ways while seeking it differ exceedingly. Their respective habits of foraging are adapted to the successful pursuit of the worms and insects that constitute their principal diet. Though both species are consumers of all kinds of insects, they have their preferences, which are the chief objects of their pursuit. It is necessary to study their different habits of foraging to understand the principle which I have endeavored to inculcate, that each species performs certain services in the economy of nature, which cannot be so well accomplished by any other species; and that it is necessary for this end to preserve all in such proportions as would spontaneously exist if the whole feathered race were unmolested and left to their own natural chances of living and multiplying.

The sylvians are the most interesting of foragers among the smaller birds, and are remarkable for their