The daily morning journal and courier., 1904-04-02

body has been eaten. During ordinary avinters, these dainty creatures are able to subsist on seeds. nuts. cherry-stones and the like; but when food is as scarce as it was while back, they sometimes are obliged to eat one another. The meadow-mice if not reduced to sucn straits as this, have at least been kept busy in their effort to obtain sufficient food. Only yesterday. went out to a plantation of several hundred young trees. and found that every one Of them had been killed by the meadow-mice, which had gnawed off the bark all the way round, in some cases to height or two feet or more from the ground. It would seem that an army of mice must have been engaged, so great was the destruction wrought, and indeed few Of us realize how numerous these little rodents are until we begin to hunt for them systematically. In spite of the fact that they are the natural prey of hawks, owls, cats, weasels, mink, skunks and foxes, their name is legion They are wonderfully prolific, having usually eight young in a litter, and at least two filters in year The winding footpaths which they make through the meadows. if strengthened out and placed end to end, would reach for thousands of fniles-a wonderful road system" for little creatures only six and half inches long. And when the snow melts away. and the freshets flood the low-lying meadows, the mice which dwelt there in the winter are obliged to seek higher ground, and how they es- cape drowning is a mystery, unless they have some warning that their burrows are soon to be flooded.
 And with the melting of the snow come the warming of the earth, and the release of the myriad of creeping. crawl ing and flying things which are destined to become the food of the great army of birds which is even now invading the land For many days these birds have been coming, a very few at first, but growing in numbers daily. They are late this year, for they follow in the wake of retreating winter, and winter itsels was late in departing. The van guard of the blue-birds was more than week later than usual, and 1t was not until the 18th of March that the first great flying squadron of Canada geese passed over Stoneham, Mass, on it's way to the north. High overhead they winged their way at dusk, their gray forms mingling with the gathering mist. Tn imagination I could hear the
 swish" of the mighty wings that bore them swiftly onward to the goal toward which their eager necks were stretched, and clear as bell-notes fell their conf dent, cries of "Home--home-home."
 On the morning of March 20 I heard the call os robin. and looking from the window, saw him fly across the garden, his breast warm red streak across the snow he skinned. How full of interest and mystery is a newly ar rived migrant! We know not whence he comes or whither he goes save in a general way; yet we feel that he is a bright, courageous spirit, filled with a purpose from which he is not to be turned by problems of time or distance, or fear Of bodily harm. He is deliver ing his message to Garcia and to us, if we will but understand it.
 The perils of migration were brought to my mind again, the other day when la friend intrusted to my care q robin which he had picked up in early March. The little fellow had the first joint torn from his wing, an accident which must deprive him of sustained flight for ever Tn other respects he seems as well as any other robin, and I fear that he does not understand why we do not give him his liberty. He is not much afraid, and hops about the room, picking up food which has been placed for him. and oc- casionally taking a bath in a dish of water on the floor. But nothing which humans can do can make up for the loss of his wild, free life. At first he tried to escape by throwing himself against the panes, but now he mounts by chair to a perch close to the win dow, and there he stands, like a statue, for an hour at a time, gazing out upon his lost world. It is sad to see him start up from a seeming reverie, and call with an earnestness. the meaning of which it is not hard to guess. He breaches a strong sermon against the cruelty of caging wild birds.
 ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES.