66 WAKE-ROBIN 



soraest of the warblers ; his white breast and throat, 

 chestnut sides, and yellow crown show conspicuously. 

 Last year I found the nest of one in an uplying 

 beech wood, in a low bush near the roadside, where 

 cows passed and browsed daily. Things went on 

 smoothly till the cow bunting stole her egg into it, 

 when other mishaps followed, and the nest was soon 

 empty. A characteristic attitude of the male dur- 

 ing this season is a slight drooping of the wings, 

 and tail a little elevated, which gives him a very 

 smart, bantam-like appearance. His song is fine 

 and hurried, and not much of itself, but has its 

 place in the general chorus. 



A far sweeter strain, falling on the ear with the 

 true sylvan cadence, is that of the black-throated 

 green-backed warbler, whom I meet at various 

 points. He has no superiors among the true Syl- 

 via. His song is very plain and simple, but re- 

 markably pure and tender, and might be indicated 



by straight lines, thus, ^ ; the first 



two marks representing two sweet, silvery notes, in 

 the same pitch of voice, and quite unaccented; the 

 latter marks, the concluding notes, wherein the tone 

 and inflection are changed. The throat and breast 

 of the male are a rich black like velvet, his face 

 yellow, and his back a yellowish green. 



Beyond the Barkpeeling, where the woods are 

 mingled hemlock, beech, and birch, the languid 

 midsummer note of the black-throated blue-back 

 falls on my ear. "Twea, twea, twea-e-e!" in the 

 upward slide, and with the peculiar z-ing of summer 



