the topmost, ever-swaying branch, of an orange or lemon tree, lie finds well suited to his taste. He is a pretty sight when in some similar position, steadfastly facing the strong ocean wind which tosses his soft gray feathers in breezy fashion, he carols his sweetest to some half-indifferent inamorata not far distant. His little, slender body quivers with excitement in his efforts to drown the song of some stout-lunged rival, who sits gayly perched upon the gilded vane that surmounts the house top; now stopping short in the very middle of a note to hear if that other fellow has discovered his new combinations, and then, as he finds to his dismay that the rascal has them already down to a very fine point (with the addition of several new and surprising twists of his own), starting off again at a tearing pace with a bewildering variety of kinks, quirks, and quavers!
Soon darkness comes upon the scene—for twilight is short in the sunny South—and our musical mocker has sought his snug feather bed in the tree tops; but, by midnight, should the moon chance to be in her full glory of semitropical splendor, the hated memory of that unconquered rival stirs his little brain, and he awakens to pour out his pent-up jealousy in notes that make the welkin ring. The longer he sings the more ecstatic he grows, and after a few sleepy attempts to keep up with the torrent of music, the rival ignominiously subsides, and our little hero has the field to himself, undisputed, till the dawn of another day.
| SKETCH OF JAMES BLYTHE ROGERS. |
SCIENCE has need of all manner of men among its votaries. He whose career will be traced in this memoir devoted to its service a warm sympathy, an inspiring utterance, a high degree of constructive faculty, and a conscientiousness which caused him ever to give his best efforts to the duty before him.
James Blythe Rogers was born in Philadelphia, February 11, 1802, being the first child of Hannah (Blythe) and Patrick Kerr Rogers. His grandfather, Robert Rogers, was one of the gentry of County Tyrone, Ireland. At the age of twenty-one he married Sarah Kerr, daughter of a gentleman living near, whose family, like his own, were adherents of the Presbyterian Church. Mr. Rogers was owner of the Edergole or Knockbrack estate, lying between Omagh and Fintano, forty miles from Londonderry, and held on lease a piece of land adjoining it. Dr. W. S. W. Ruschenberger, whose excellent memoir on The Brothers Rogers[1] is the chief available source of information concerning this family,
- ↑ Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, vol. xxiii, pp. 104-146.
