“Not so fast! Frank Forester was a splendid writer, and upon matters with which he was familiar he was thorough. He has conferred an immense favor upon the American sporting world; but where he had not personal experience--and no one can know everything--he had to rely upon others. He has done as much to correct and elevate sportsmanship in this country, to introduce a proper vocabulary, and to enforce obedience to gentlemanly rules, as any man possibly could. As a body, we owe it to him that we are sportsmen, and not pot-hunters. Probably in some places the grass-plover is called a frost-bird.” “I have more faith in Giraud, and would like to hear what he can tell us about the golden-plover, unless he says that is a sandpiper also.” “He begins with a description of the black-bellied plover, which is known to us as bull-head, the _charadrius helveticus_, and then describes the American golden-plover, or _charadrius pluvialis_, and uses these words: ‘It is better known to our gunners by the name of frost-bird, so called from being more plentiful during the early frosts of autumn, at which season it is generally in fine condition, and exceedingly well flavored.’ Then follow the ring-plover, or ring-neck--_charadrius semipalmatus_, Wilson’s plover; the piping-plover, or beach-bird--_charadrius melodius_; and the kildeer plover--_charadrius vociferus_, these being all the varieties of American plover.” Bill could stand it no longer; but rising as the book was closed, burst forth at once: “Those writers are queer fellows; they put the oddest, hardest, longest names to birds that ever I heard. Who would have thought of their calling a two-penny beach-bird, a radish mellow-deuce! What I have to say is--we baymen will never learn these new-fangled names.” “That is exactly the trouble,” I replied. “You baymen will, in different sections of the country, call the same bird by various names, till no one can tell what you are talking about; and the man of science has to step in and dig up a third name, usually some Latin affair, which nobody will accept. Thus it is that the older frost-birds, which, strange to say, invariably arrive before the young, are known as golden-plover, and their progeny as frost-birds.” “Speaking of the seasons,” replied Bill, evasively, “have you noticed that they are changing every year? The springs are later than they used to be. In old times the English snipe arrived from the south early in March; now they hardly come till June; so, the ducks come later and stay later. The springs are colder, and the autumns warmer, than when I was young, and the bay-snipe appear in September instead of August, as it once was.”