For the Sunny South Oologist:

The following little narrative occurred at my old home in Kentucky, some years ago: I had placed over the roof of my house a bird box, and for several years the martins had occupied it, and I think the same pair came back every year, for the male appeared larger and had a coarser voice (?) than any others I had ever heard.

This spring of which I speak, the blue birds had taken possession of the box, and one morning while out for a little fresh air I heard the welcomed voice of the martin in the distance. I turned to see from where the voice came, and saw the old friend coming alone. He came directly to the bird box, and appeared very much surprised to find it occupied, so at once began an attack upon the inmates, but the little birds were too much for the old martin, and he had to give up to them. (But this was only for a short time.) So he flew to a neighboring roof, and sat there for a time as if meditating what to do, and then flew in a direct line toward the south from whence he had come. The little blue birds seemed to congratulate themselves upon their victory, but they were too soon, for the next morning at about the same time, I heard the voice which seemed to say “pitch in, pitch in,” and I knew he was coming. Upon looking I saw him in the lead with about a dozen other martins following. I waited to see his purpose, and was not long in finding it out, for he flew direct to the bird box, and perching himself on the top gave the orders, “Pitch in! pitch in!” and they did pitch in from both sides.

* * * * * * * *

It is needless to say how it terminated, for the old martin and his mate raised a brood that year, and came year after year until I came west.

L. L. Howard,

Gainesville, Texas.

A Georgia paper says that before the war there was a bird in the south that fed exclusively on cockle-burrs. At a certain season of the year these birds would sweep down on the fields and when they departed not a burr remained. The smell of burnt and burning powder for four years seems to have been too much for the burr-eaters. Since then not a bird of the kind is to be found in the south; but the burrs are here yet.