I always thought the birds made a continuous flight of over 2,000 miles, but I am now satisfied that they rest on the waves when tired." The flight of a flock of Golden Plovers is described by Goss as swift and strong, sweeping over the prairies in a compact, wavy form, at times skimming close to the ground, then high in the air; an everchanging, circling course, whistling as they go; and on alighting raising their wings until the tips nearly touch, then slowly folding them back, a habit which is quite common with them as they move about the ground. Plovers eat Grasshoppers, Beetles, and many forms of insect life; small berries are also a part of their diet. Mr. Nelson, in his "Report Upon Natural History Collections in Alaska," gives a full and interesting account of their nesting-habits. He says the courtship of this handsome bird is carried on very quietly, and there is no demonstration of anger or quarreling among the rivals. When two are satisfactorily mated they quietly go about their nesting, after which each pair limits its range to the immediate vicinity of its treasures. The eggs are deposited the latter part of May in a small depression among the moss and dried grass of a small knoll, and at times a slight structure is made of dried grass. Four eggs are laid, of a pale yellowish ground color, with very dark, well-defined umber brown spots scattered profusely over the shell. Golden Plovers on the ground, See them rise, and fly, and sing; Where before was not a sound Now the very echoes ring. CAN ANIMALS COUNT? My little readers have heard their elders when speaking of the Horse, Dog, Cat, and other dumb creatures call them the "lower" animals. Well, so they are, but when you have grown to be men and women you may possibly prefer the faithful affection and good comradeship of one of these lower animals to the disagreeable society of a cold, mean, and selfish "higher" one. Indeed, to learn how near akin are man and beast, mentally, not physically, men and women of large and tender natures have given up the greater part of their lives. Many stories have been written concerning the faithful love of animals for their masters, big and little, of their marvelous instinct and almost human cunning, but when I tell you that animals can be taught to count--and birds are animals, too, you know--why, then, if you are bright children you will wonder, as your elders do, where instinct ends and reason begins. However, these animals, of which I am going to write, may have been more than usually intelligent and capable of learning where others would not.