FOUR NEIGHBORS DIVERSE 



I saw that there were young, but imagine my surprise 

 when these young proved to be, not vireos, but two 

 kisty young Cowbirds, about ready to fly. There is 

 no way of knowing whether one Cowbird had laid 

 three times in this nest, or whether it was the work of 

 three different Cowbirds. No doubt these youngsters 

 had thrown out or trampled to death the whole brood of 

 young vireos. I had a good mind to wring their necks, 

 but the foster mother came and acted so distressed, that 

 I decided she had had trouble enough. 



But anyhow I was going to photograph the young 

 rascals. It was dark there in the woods, so I carried 

 them some rods out into an open clearing, where I 

 posed them on a branch and used up my last few 

 plates. By this time the old vireo had found us and 

 scolded plaintively from a branch close by. Then it 

 began to dawn upon me that I had been rash in using 

 up my plates so soon. I withdrew a few yards, leaving 

 the camera where it was, close to the young. Within 

 a minute the vireo flew down and gave one of her 

 adopted children a worm, utterly ignoring the camera. 

 I do not know when I ever felt more utterly disgusted 

 at myself for having made such a blunder. Oh, if I 

 only had a few plates! My reflecting camera was in 

 the buggy half a mile away and the sun nearly setting! 

 Putting the young Cowbirds in the carrying case, to 

 keep them from fluttering away in my absence, I ran 

 as fast as I could, got the other camera and plates, 

 and rushed back again. I put the youngsters on the 



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