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NEW BERN
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Thousands of birds migrate to
and from New Bern with the
changing of the seasons. Hun
dreds of thousands more fly
over, headed for South America
and other distant points.
Don’t feel dumb, if you’ve
never seen these remark
able migrations. Very few New
Bernians have, except in rare
instances. That’s because birds
migrate at night, so they can
spend the daylight hours feed
ing.
Your best chance, believe it
or not, to see our feathered
friends enroute, or at least
hear them, is on an overcast
night. They’ll be flying low,
to avoid the clouds.
Some of our winged residents
here, especially woodpeckers,
stick around all year. How
ever it may surprise you to
learn that quite a few spar
rows, and at least haH of our
Warblers, spend their winters
in Argentina, Brazil, or may
be Chile.
When they’re in the mood
for travel, they cover as much
as 300 miles in a single night.
More energetic and ambitious
is the golden plover. They
Hy 2,4QQ miles over the ocean
from Labrador to South Amer-
1^ or from Alaska 0 Hawaii,
? T h Bh8jtoe^yO!rM‘t'atolk6
.Ilian lots ahd-
v-',o^ eai;th‘*bbund humans
Tumped together.
AU'ef whldi explains why
some of New Bern’s mocking
birds hover outside your window
when your hi-fi, stereo, radio,
or television set strikes up a
rhumba from Vienna, the haunt
ing melodies of Hawaii, or an
Eskimo lullaby.
Add this to your knowledge.
A  sample Mirror survey re
veals that only one New Bern
housewife in ten uses plain
flour these days. Local
husbands fortunate enough to
feast on hot biscuits are almost
always served the self-rising
kind. Of course, many a wife
depends entirely on the pre
made variety on sale at super
markets.
Remember when reading the
funnies on Sunday morning used
be a family affair in every New
Bern home? It is still done
in some households, but on a
greatly reduced scale.
Young and old found pleasure
in the ludicrious antics of Mutt
and Jeff, Maggie and Ji^s, Slim
Jim, and the Katzenjammer
kids. Now only the young, in
large proportion, are acutely
cartoon conscious.
The funny thing about a lot
of today's funnies is the fact
that they aren’t funny, and in
many Instances aren’t intended
to be. Simple humor and un
adulterated slapstick have been
trampled out of the picture by
violence, intrigue, science fan-
tasUcs, and a smattering of
Historical fact.
If you’re in the mood for a
shocking experience, you can
accomplish this several ways.
For example, stick your fork
inside the toaster next time
the toast won’t pop up. Don’t
forget, of course, to leave the
toaster plugged in.
To'make the experience more
memorable, try resting your
free hand against a metal
. (Conttaued on Page 5)
CUTE AND CUDDLY—How else would you describe
this little fellow? Born two months ago at Dixon’s Pet
Shop in Washington, his parents are Pomeranian and
Pekingese. Snapping his Mirror portrait proved to be
a labor of love for Eunice Wray, local photographer,
seeing as how she happens to own the bri^t eyed
puppy. Tiger (that’s his rather implausible name) is
a tiny bundle of energy, loves affection, but doesn’t
hesitate to growl when he can’t have his way. Getting
him to pose with a basket of roses was no problem,
however. So cooperative and photogenic is the young
chap that any one of a half dozen photos made by
Eunice could have been used instead of the picture
selected by the Mirror’s editor. Up to now. Tiger
doesn’t have a single (or married) flea on him. Except
for that, he is all dog.
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