A May Morning 93 



in these thickets, was warbling his incomparable song. At first he 

 had been giving vent to his ver_v unmusical call of alarm, but, becom- 

 ing used to my presence, and concluding that I meant no harm, he 

 joined in the concert. 



Off to one side, among the more scrubby deciduous growth, I 

 could hear, and sometimes see, a Redstart, while the tsc-tse-tsc-mg of 

 the Black-poll Warblers, which were migrating northwards, could be 

 heard intermittently. Two Quails were now calling loudly for Bob- 

 White, or Rob-ert-White, as their fancy dictated, and in the con- 

 fusing medley I could make out the modest notes of a Black and 

 White Warbler, which had for years nested somewhere in this pas- 

 ture. Behind me, at the top of the hill, I could also hear the clear, 

 cheery notes of a Field Sparrow, which always builds there. 



Being limited as to time, and having already heard twenty-eight 

 kinds of birds in the short space of about twenty minutes, and from 

 one place, I started to depart, but even as I did so I heard the notes 

 of another bird coming across the marsh, that of the Black-billed 

 Cuckoo, and just as I was again taking down the bars to get out into 

 the street, what should I hear, loud, clear and distinct, but the song^ 

 of that plaguey little White-eyed Vireo, a song seemingly of thanks- 

 giving that I was really going and that he had eluded me so well. I 

 then reluctantly mounted my bicycle, but was forced to get off, to add 

 two more birds to my increasing list; viz., a Cowbird, which was 

 sitting on the fence opposite, and a pair of Yellow-throated Vireos, 

 the female of which had evidently but just left her nest for a lunch, 

 while the male followed twittering and whispering close by, stopping 

 his song until she should have resumed her duties of incubation. 



I had now seen thirty-two different species of birds in the short 

 space of about twenty-five minutes' actual time spent in observation, 

 after deducting the time spent in hunting the Vireo's nest, and departed 

 for home well content, even though I knew I had seen only about 

 three-fifths of the varieties of birds that are often to be found in the 

 immediate vicinity. 



On a previous occasion, when I had been lucky enough to be 

 able to spend a whole morning in this pasture, I had seen forty-four 

 different species, nineteen of which I had not seen to-day, and which, 

 added to the thirty-two noted above, make a total of fifty-one species. 

 Of these, there were only five that were merely occasional visitors. 

 Of the remainder, I have found direct evidence of the breeding of 

 thirty-two species, while on various accounts I feel sure that fourteen 

 others breed there, although I have never actually found their nests. 



