THE CEDAR WAXWING. 351 



rowan trees in your front yard some bleak day in December ; the_\' may nest in 

 your orciiard the following July ; and you may not see them on vour premises 

 again for years — unless }-ou keep cherry trees. It must be confessed (since 

 the shade of the clierry tree is ever sacred to Truth ) that the Cedarbird, or 

 "Cherrybird," has a single passion, a consuming desire for cherries. But don't 

 kill him for that. Ynu like cherries yourself. All the more reason, then, 

 wh_\- you should be charitable toward a brother's weakness. Besides, he is so 

 handsome, — handsomer himself than a luscious cherry e\-en. Feast vour eyes 

 upon him, those marvelous melting browns, those shifting saffrons and Quaker 

 drabs, those red sealing-wax tips on the wing-quills ( he is canning cherries, 

 you see, and comes provided). Feast your eyes, I say. and carry the vision to 

 the table with you — and a few less cherries. Or, if there are not enough for 

 \ou both, draw a decent breadth of mosquito-netting o\'er the tree, and ab- 

 solve }-our soul of murderous intent. Remember, too, if you require self- 

 justification, that earlier in the season he diligently devoured noxious worms 

 and insect pests, so that he has a clear right to a share in the fruit of his labors. 



Clierries are by no means the only kind of fruit eaten by these birds. 

 Like most orchard-haunting species, tliey are very fond of mulberries, while 

 the red berries nf the mountain ash are a staple ration in fall and winter. 

 Truth to tell, these beauties are sad gluttons, and they will gorge themselves 

 at times till the vevy effort of swallowing becomes a delicious pain. 



The Cedarbird, being so singularly endowed with the gift of beaut\', is 

 denied the gift of song. He is, in fact, the most nearly \'oiceless of anv of 

 the American Oscines, his sole note being a high-pitched sibilant squeak. In- 

 deed, so high-pitched is this extraordinary note that many people, and the\' 

 trained bird-men, cannot hear them at all, even when the Waxwings are 

 squeaking all about them. It is an almost uncanny spectacle, that of a companv 

 of Waxwings sitting aloft in some leafless tree early in spring, erect, immov- 

 able, like soldiers on parade, but complaining to each other in that faint, pene- 

 trating monotone. It is as th(j }-ou had come upon a company of the Immor- 

 tals, high-removed, conversing of matters too recondite for human ken, and 

 surveying you the while with Olympian disdain. You steal away from the 

 foot of the tree with a chastened sense of having encountered something not 

 quite understandable. 



The dilatory habits of these birds are well shown in their nesting, which 

 they put off until late June or July, for no apparent reason. In constructing 

 the nest the birds use anything soft and pliable which happens to catch the 

 eye. Some specimens are composed entirelv of the green hanging mosses, 

 while others are a complicated mixture of twigs, leaves, rootlets, fibers, 

 grasses, rags, string, paper, and what not. Tlie nest may be placed at any 

 moderate height up to fifty feet, and a great variety of trees are used altho 

 orchard trees are favorites. The birds are half gregarious, even in the nest- 



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