Sound the pipes lowly and play the drums slowly, there's no joy in Mudville tonight, regardless of the baseball game. Last Wednesday, June 9, was the last day we heard the baby Yellow-crowned Night-heron beg for food. We thought we were simply missing the event, but wondered what all the "cow" squawks were about (they sound the same as Green Heron squawks, at least the lower pitched ones). When on Monday we still hadn't heard the baby begging for food, we got worried. Tuesday morning, June 15, was the last we saw of the adults. Wednesday evening, I looked up on the roof in a spot visible only from one corner of the yard, and discovered the partially decomposed remains of the little one, about half again as large as a crow, with primaries grown in but still sheathed on the wings. We haven't seen any adults around since Tuesday morning, and must conclude that the show's over, at least this year, this century, this millenium, etc., and perhaps forever. A moment of silent reflection on the passing of the heronlet, please. (sigh) Pete Webb Baltimore, Maryland (U.S.) pwebb@bcpl.net