some distance away, the robins and catbirds still pursuing. On the sidewalk, under the little tree where the robins had their nest, was part of the shell of a robin's egg and a mangled embryo bird that had been torn out of it. I examined the robin's nest and found nothing in it except part of a broken egg-shell.

The catbirds above mentioned had their nest in a small catalpa tree about thirty yards from the house. There were four young birds in the nest. They were not disturbed at this time. A few days later, just at noon time, the boys came running to the house shouting that the jays were fighting the catbirds. We hastened to the scene of disturbance just in time to see a jay fly from a spot several yards beyond the catalpa tree. When we reached the place we found one of the young catbirds, nearly full grown, with its head and back so badly picked that it soon died. An examination of the nest showed only two birds remaining, which went to show that this was not the first attack that had been made on the young in the nest. A few days later, while I was at the University, the small boys saw a jay on a limb of the catalpa tree picking one of the young catbirds. Lindsay took a gun and killed the jay, a thing he had begged me to let him do on the occasion of the first robbery and murder we had witnessed in the catbird family. On my return home I examined the catbird's nest. It had but one bird left in it and that one was so badly picked that it was dead the next morning.

June 18, 1905, Lindsay and George saw a jay bird fighting a young catbird that was large enough to fly from one bush to another. Lindsay ran after his gun and returned as soon as possible, to find, however, that the jay had the catbird killed. He shot the jay. I dissected the bird and found feathers and mulberries in its stomach.

May 19, 1907, the boys, who were playing in the yard, called to me that a jay was fighting the robins in an old apple tree near the wood-house. I hastened to the spot. The jay did not leave the tree until I threw a stone at it. I found a half-grown robin on the ground under the tree with a gash an inch long in its side and neck. George, my youngest boy, climbed the tree and put the wounded robin in the nest with its three brothers and sisters.

May 21, George brought me a young dead robin with its head picked and a hole in its side, that he found under the

old apple tree. I went to the tree to examine the nest and found that it had been robbed of all its young birds.

July 5, 1907, Lindsay saw a turtle-dove trying to fight a jay from its nest in an elm tree near our house. The jay got one of the dove's eggs and flew to a near-by fence. Most of the contents of the egg spilled out before the jay reached the fence. The boy begged me to let him take the gun and kill the jay. I told him if we killed the jay that we would not get any more observations. He said he had all the observations he wanted on jays robbing nests and killing young birds and that what he wanted when he saw a jay was a gun.

BLUE JAYS KILL YOUNG CHICKENS.

June 18, 1905, about eight A. M., as I walked back of the barn, I saw a blue jay picking at something on a low shed roof. It was a young chicken, less than a week old. The jay flew into a near-by tree, leaving the chicken dead, with one eye picked out and the skin torn from its neck and breast. A few days before I had placed a hen and chickens under an old peach tree in a box coop fixed up with a rat-proof wire door; so I was somewhat puzzled when four or five of the chickens had disappeared. I thought of cats and rats, but the day before I caught the real thief I found the mangled body of a young chicken on the end of an old peach-tree stump. This really put me to watching the jays, as I had noticed them a number of times flying about when I went to feed the chickens. It was not an uncommon thing for the jays, in winter season, to light on the troughs where the chickens were fed and help themselves. I watched for the jays every morning but did not see them with another chicken, though all the young chickens disappeared except three. I might say that I did not try to protect the young chickens after I found that the jays were taking them. When I let the little birds out in the morning I would watch a while with the hope of seeing a jay take one, as I wanted to see how the attack was made.

On June 23, 1906, Dr. L. B. Powell, a neighbor of mine, and an intelligent gentleman, reported to me that he had lost about a dozen young chickens, less than a week old, that had been killed by a pair of blue jays that had a nest in a tree in his yard. After he saw the jays kill some of the young chickens and pick their brains out, he shot the old blue jays and took the young ones from their nest and pulled their heads off.

Mr. C. D. Bunker, my assistant in the museum at the University, reported to me that the blue jays killed a number of young chickens for him two years ago. The bodies of the young chickens were more or less torn to pieces and partly eaten up. He also reported two canary birds killed by blue jays. The bird-cages were left on the porch. The jays caught the little birds and pulled them out through the spaces between the wires of the cage. Miss Alice Lichfield, a classmate of mine at the University, told me a number of years ago that the blue jays had killed a number of young chickens for her, but she failed to notice how the bodies had been mutilated.

Mr. Will Bullene, who lives a few blocks southeast of me, and who, from his general knowledge of birds, is abundantly able to make correct observations, told me of a neighbor of his that had lost quite a number of young chickens, due to blue jays. In this case there was a flock of about seventy-five young chickens. They were kept in a coop and allowed to run, after being fed, in quite a large runway enclosed by wire screening. A number of the little birds had been found dead in the runway, with their bodies mutilated. The owner was puzzled to make out what it was that was doing the mischief. Mr. Bullene suggested that some one be put to watch. It was not long before a jay was seen to pounce upon a chicken and pick it to death. After a few more chickens was killed, Mr. Bullene set steel traps on the fence posts where the jays were accustomed to light and caught a number of them. In this particular case the jays picked the crops of the chickens open and ate the feed, mostly corn chop.

A number of other cases have been reported to me concerning the jay's habit of robbing nests and killing young birds. I will give but one more illustration of the jay's wickedness in this line, and that came under my personal observation. It was in August, 1887. A pair of house wrens had built their nest in a little cubby-hole in the corner of our porch. One afternoon, about five o'clock, while Mrs. Dyche and myself were sitting on the porch, a little wren flew down from the nest. It was a young bird, and that was the first time it had ever tried its wings. While we were admiring the little midget hopping about on the porch, a blue jay darted from somewhere and with a great flutter and commotion of its wings grabbed the little wren and flew to a fence not more than fifteen feet away. I made a few hurried steps into the house

and secured a small shotgun that happened to be handy. When I returned the jay flew a rod farther along on the fence. However, it was not more than two rods away, an easy shot, and I killed the bird. Mrs. Dyche, who was watching, had meantime noticed the little wren fall by the side of the fence from the spot where the jay first lit. I picked up the little dead wren and on examination found a small cut under one wing. There was no other cut or bruise on its body that I could find. I now picked up the blue jay. It had a little bloody heart in its beak. I dissected the wren and found that its little heart had been pulled out through the small cut that the jay had made under its wing. I dissected the jay and found two hearts in its stomach, quite a little larger in size than the one that had been pulled from the unfortunate little wren.

The very next evening I saw a jay dart after a little young wren, perhaps one of the same brood. My presence made it possible for the little wren to get under cover of some small bushes. The jay lit on the fence to watch. I secured my gun and shot at the jay, crippling it so that it flew to a neighbor's yard and died. I was reported to the city attorney, Mr. W. C. Spangler, for shooting poor innocent birds.

After recording such observations I cannot help but feel somewhat like my small boy, who, after he had seen the jay with his own eyes commit a number of robberies and murders, said that "he had all the observations he wanted on jays robbing nests and killing young birds, and that what he wanted when he saw a jay was a gun."

HABITS OF LYSIPHLEBUS sp.

By C. H. WITHINGTON, Kansas State Agricultural College, Manhattan.

DURING the past summer I noticed that some of the corn

fields about Lawrence, Kan., were badly infested with the corn-leaf louse, Aphis maidis Fetch. At this time I was greatly interested in insect parasitism, and so watched closely for any evidence of it in this species. On the afternoon of August 10 my search was rewarded by the finding of seven parasitized specimens of Aphis maidis sticking to the tassel of a corn-stalk. These were taken to my room, where I could easily watch the emergence and secure the parasites. On August 12 two specimens of the genus Lysiphlebus emerged and were promptly mounted for study. Nothing came from the remaining five. . Thenceforward I watched the fields closely for further parasitism, but saw no more until September 20, when, while collecting on the college farm at Manhattan, Kan., I found a female of Lysiphlebus sp. on volunteer corn, with some specimens of Aphis maidis that clearly showed evidence of parasitism, and on the following day I found hundreds of parasitized lice dead and dying on the under sides of the leaves and on the inner husks of the corn-stalk. At Lawrence the parasitized individuals were found only on the young tassels and the two upper leaves, while at Manhattan, six weeks later, they were confined to the leaves and husks. As the season advanced the lice left the leaves and the infestation came to be limited to the inner husks about the ear, becoming so great here that these were frequently entirely covered with aphids. By the first of October winged individuals were very plentiful, and from this time forward the infestation decreased until, with the coming of the first frosts, about the 1st of November, it disappeared from here as well. At this stage I became very anxious to know where the lice had gone and what the parasite was going to do for a host, but, in spite of close watching, am unable to answer either of these questions satisfactorily.

I found wingless Aphis maidis on well-grown volunteer wheat as late as November 24, but from November 9 the specimens under observation have been torpid. The majority of the embryo parasites inhabiting the lice on the 1st of November have not emerged, but also appear to be dormant.