Writing in regard to a set of eggs which he had collected, he says: “I was somewhat disgusted to find one of the eggs pipped and, realizing the difficulty of making a presentable specimen of it, was on the point of throwing it away when a movement on the part of the tiny creature within the shell suggested to my mind that I hatch the egg and find out for myself how baby hummingbirds come into the world. So far there was but a pin point broken, the rest of the shell being intact; and it was several minutes before the warmth of my hand, aided by my breath, produced another movement upon the part of the prospective hummer; first a feeble struggle, followed by an interval of rest; another squirm and the point of the bill came in view and was withdrawn; after a moment’s rest a new system was adopted, which consisted of turning around in the shell from right to left and cutting a clean, smooth opening with the sharp, horny tip on the upper mandible; this operation was evidently hard work and required all the strength of the little mite, and frequent rests were necessary to recruit. Sometimes an interval of twisting seemed to accomplish nothing, and it would look as if all its struggles would be in vain. I wondered whether the parent would not render a little much-needed assistance at this stage; but after an interval of rest the work would be continued with renewed vigor and another millimetre cut toward the outer world. The cutting was all done in the same direction. When the shell had been cut four-fifths around, the chick succeeded in getting one claw hooked over the edge of the break, and by one or two vigorous pushes broke the remaining shell, leaving in my hand two nearly equal parts of what had been a hummingbird’s egg and a squirming something that bore no semblance whatever to one of the peerless members of the genus Calypte.” The entire operation, which added another individual to America’s beautiful family of birds, required but fifteen minutes of time. The energy and perseverance of the little mass of flesh was a hint of that pugnacious disposition that would be so striking a characteristic when it became fully grown and clothed with its resplendent metallic plumage. LONGING. O, for the woods and fields and streams, For flowers wild and squirrels shy— For birds whose sunlit plumage gleams, For sight of clear, unhidden sky! For grasses green, for springs and marsh, For mountain paths and tramps o’er hills Where nothing sinful—nothing harsh— The sweetening song of Nature stills! Lloyd Thompson. EXPERIENCES WITH “HUMMERS.” Did you ever hold a live hummingbird in your hand? Well, I have held several of the wee, wee creatures. Did you ever look into a hummingbird’s nest? Well, I have peeped into several of the tiny, downy affairs.