began at once. Two pairs were thus occupied, and near the edge of the water two nests were built. One nest resulted in failure, but upon the single egg of the second pair of brown pelicans patient incubation soon began.

At last the reward came, and the first young pelican ever hatched north of Florida broke through its shell. There are few more ugly things in the world than a young pelican. Lying prone in the nest it appears wholly lifeless, and of the color and texture rather of a bit of water-soaked beef than a bird. It seems to have no definite organs or symmetry. It is naked, dirty-gray, with tiny, crooked, wormlike wings, and a blind, featureless head. The newly hatched chick is an avian postulate which we must accept but which requires all our faith in Mother Nature and the pelican. Nevertheless in the little creature are the latent possibilities of a splendid winged creature which can swim upon the water, walk on the land, soar for hours at a time on almost motionless wings high in the heaven, and finally dive into the ocean in pursuit of its prey. Surely the pelican in the course of its development offers the utmost antithesis of helplessness and achievement.

After a fortnight our faith has its reward, for the gray nestling worm has sprouted a garb of grayish white down; its eyes have opened, and in the somewhat lengthened beak we may even discern the promise of the future capacious pouch. In place of helpless quiescence it moves about, and when chilly, pushes beneath the warm breast plumage of the mother, and at times clamors for food. In the last newly acquired character lies one of the most interesting facts in the life of this species. It truly calls for its food. Not, to be sure, with the pleasant urging of young chicks, but at least with a decided vocal demand rasping croak, so strong that it may be heard many yards away. The far distant ancestors of pelicans undoubtedly had need of voices. They may even have had a song for all we know. And now, to the chick, as long as it requires food, is vouchsafed a voice. When it begins to forage for itself and takes up the serious business of life that of fishing silence falls gradually upon it, the croak becomes weaker day by day, and soon the hiss

a

of air rushing through the throat is the only sound it can produce. The only vocal sound that is, for it can clatter its beak vigorously when it strives to frighten an enemy. On Pelican Island I have listened with wonder to the uproar from the throats of scores of young birds, while the parents were leaving and returning, all mutely, dumbly busy with their life work. It is a problem, both interesting to the ornithologist and significant to the philosophical lover of wild things, why the ears of the old pelican remain so keenly attuned to the cries of the young birds while they themselves are wholly unable to communicate with one another.

To the few naturalists who have enjoyed watching a breeding colony of brown pelicans, the method of feeding has always been of great interest. Heretofore we have known it in New York from descriptions and photographs, but now we may look forward each season to the opportunity of observing it at first hand in the aviary of the Zoological Society. The mother has fed, fish after fish being engulfed and swallowed whole, and after a time she returns to her nest, her great wings fanning the air, yet allowing her to come to rest so gently that the topmost wings are hardly disturbed. The young bird renews its imperious clamor, and, clad in its fluffy white down, stands in front of the parent, wildly waving the stumpy, crooked organs which represent wings. The croaks never cease until the mother pelican opens her immense beak, points it downward, and the young bird, eagerly pressing forward, pokes its head into the gaping, leathery pouch. Farther and farther it goes, at last actually stepping upon the rim of the beak. At this point the spectators begin to be nervous and more than once have been on the point of summoning keepers to prevent the horrible tragedy about to be enacted before their eyes. All sympathy is with the young bird as it apparently pushes on to its doom, a quick death in the deep interior of the mother. From this point, however, events proceed too rapidly for intervention. Up and up, and then down goes the young bird, until he has pushed his way beyond the beak and down the neck. Then begin contortions which turn the sympathy of the spectators to the mother, for a terrible

contest is apparently taking place between the young bird and its parent, and it seems inevitable that one must emerge from the conflict mangled and disabled. After a moment of quiet the nestling pelican again appears in the light of day, not only unhurt, but replete with a bountiful repast of fish, which stills the croaks until a few hours have passed, when hunger again arouses him to vocal utterance. He steps out of his mother's beak, balances for a moment on very wobbly legs, looks about wholly unconscious of the varying emotions he has aroused in the onlooker, and turning, burrows deeply beneath the living coverlet of feathers which for so many weeks has patiently sheltered him day and night from cold, from rain, and the threatened attacks of other birds in the great cage which is his world.

WHAT Vowels are, is a matter which has been for some years well understood. They are compound musical tones such as, in the vox humana stop of the organ, are sounded by reeds (vibrating tongues) fitted to organ pipes of particular construction. The manner of formation of vowels by the voice is shortly this. There are situated in the larynx a pair of vibrating membranes called the vocal chords, which may be rudely imitated by stretching a piece of sheet india-rubber over the open end of a tube, so as to form two half covers to it, "like the parchment of a drum split across the middle;" when the tube is blown through, the india-rubber flaps will vibrate as the vocal chords do in the larynx, and give out a sound. In the human voice, the musical effect of the vibrating chords is increased by the cavity of the mouth, which acts as a resonator or soundingbox, and which also, by its shape at any moment, modifies the musical "quality" of the sound produced. Quality, which is independent of pitch, depends on the harmonic overtones ac

1 From Primitive Culture, Chap. V.

companying the fundamental tone which alone musical notation takes account of: this quality makes the difference between the same note on two instruments, flute and piano for instance, while some instruments, as the violin, can give to one note a wide variation of quality. To such quality the formation of vowels is due. This is perfectly shown by the common Jews'harp, which when struck can be made to utter the vowels a, e, i, o, u, etc., by simply putting the mouth in the proper position for speaking these vowels. In this experiment the player's voice emits no sound, but the vibrating tongue of the Jews'-harp placed in front of the mouth acts as a substitute for the vocal chords, and the vowel sounds are produced by the various positions of the cavity of the mouth modifying the quality of the note, by bringing out with different degrees of strength the series of harmonic tones of which it is composed.

OUTLINE: THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

WOODROW WILSON

I. The House of Representatives is the chamber in which the people are directly represented.

A. It differs in purpose and constitution from the Senate.

II. The House is a business body rather than a deliberative assembly.

III. It is organized, for the transaction of business, into a number of standing committees.

A. There are fifty-seven of these committees, each charged with some special branch of legislative business.

IV. The committees decide what matters shall be presented before the House.

A. Every bill introduced by a member is sent to the appropriate committee, which throws it aside altogether or alters it to suit its own views.

B. A private bill can be taken up directly in the House only by a suspension of the rules.

V. The transaction of business is regulated by the Speaker and the Committee on Rules.

VI. The Speaker of the House has greater powers than the presiding officer of any other legislative assembly.

A. He appoints all the committees, and in such a way as to retain direct control of the action of the House.

1. Even though he is limited by well-established precedents, he can always determine the majority of the appoint

ments.

B. He decides the committee to which a question shall be re-
ferred when there is any doubt about the reference.
C. He assigns the reports of the committees to the several
calendars upon which the business of the House is allotted
its time for consideration.

1. In this way he can make it likely that a bill shall not be
reached at all.

D. He controls debate by his prerogative of "recognition."
I. No one can be "recognized" without the previous con-
sent of the chairman of the reporting committee or
the Speaker.

2. In the intervals of calendar business, no one but the
leader on the floor of either party can gain the floor
to make a motion unless he has previously declared
his intention to the Speaker.

E. He directly controls the Committee on Rules, which is a very important part of the party machinery.

1. Originally the Committee on Rules merely reported to each new House the body of standing rules under which it was to act.

2. At present it can sweep aside the ordinary routine and bring in a schedule of action which will enable the House to get at the most important questions.

VII. The Speaker and the committees are not unrestricted in their action.

A. The Speaker is an instrument of the House as well as a leader, and his decisions can be overriden by the House. B. The Committee on Rules is expected to arrange for considerable discussion on certain important public measures. VIII. The private member has a court of last resort in the party

caucus.

A. The caucus is an outside conference of the members of the majority at which questions are decided which it is impossible to take up on the floor of the House.