July, 1916 BREEDING OF TIARIS CANORA 161 ness by leaving it behind. To the above I sometimes added a folding butterfly net, for it is well to take what comes along in out of the way places. Butter- flies were individually common but I found no great variety. I suppose the season was too dry and the locality over-exposed to the strong trade wind. In this season and locality the heat is greatly tempered by the trade wind by day, and at night one needs a blanket, though it is very different in humid places away from the coast. In Cuba there are no poisonous snakes (though I have seen some good big ones); but insect pests are at times somewhat too varied and abundant. In short there are minor drawbacks--and. one should take reasonable precautions against illness; but in spite of all these the col- lector who longs for new fields and change of environment will find pleasure in both in the sunny island off our southern shores. U.S. S. Maine, New York, February 4, 1916. MEETING SPRING HALF WAY By FLORENCE MERRIAM BAILEY T EXARKANA", the porter announced to a eurtained aisle on that April morning. Texarkana ! May all men know by these presents just where they stand. We raised the shades to find that in the night winter had been left behind, spring had come in Texas, spring with its birds and flowers and green things growing. "The trees are all green!" a boyish northern voice exclaimed with fervor born of snowbanks passed in the Alleghanies. And so they were, all green, not with the dark heavy green of summer's fulfillment but with the delicate green of the first blush of spring promise, at whose delicacy you fairly hold your breath; a green that is almost white with the young hick- ory leaves, a tender pink with the oaks, making the woodland pools reflect a veritable fairyland forest. Blooming apple and peach trees gathered butter- flies, leaf-crowned oak tassels swayed in the wind, and as the train passed through a stand of pine we breathed the velvety air of sulphuring pineries-- nature was full of rich promise. All the warmth of the woods centered in the red bud, all the light of the woods focused in the snowy thorn and the dazzling white sprays of the dogwood. The ground flowers were blooming also--exqui- site spring beauties, Baptisia, mandrake, and deep magenta phlox in luxuriant bunches. Through the open windows came the spring songs of Tomtits, Cardinals, and Mockingbirds, and as if to furnish appropriate setting, there passed in
rapid succession cotton fields with last year's bolls hanging, darky shanties
flanked by outside chimneys, groups of pickaninnies, colored women in sun- bonnets driving mule plows, and oak woods in which small brown pigs rooted for acorns. The handsome red horse-chestnut blooming in the woods recalled Audubon's famous painting of the Carolina Wren. At a wayside station the squawk of a Bluejay came in through the window, while from a passing swamp came the call of the Maryland Yellow-throat, not to be heard in Washington for fully two weeks. The first palmettos and bunches of cactus were followed near the Trinity River by the first gray moss, in which appropriately enough Parula Warblers were singing, also two weeks ahead of Washington. The
