Notes from Field and Study 



287 



sparingly, but each year on examining 

 the nest after the birds had left, I found 

 that gradually they used less grass and 

 more of the material I put out for them. 



Each season found my Waxwings more 

 friendly, and it was with even greater 

 pleasure than usual that I heard the first 

 plaintive whistle of my little friends, and 

 saw their bright little eyes piercing down 

 at me, as I was working in my garden one 

 morning in June, 1919. 



They spent some time in deciding upon 

 a site for their new home, and I was 

 delighted when they finally chose an apple 

 tree about fifty feet from the house and 

 directly beside the garden where 1 could 

 watch them so easily. 



I immediately began putting out string, 

 as usual hanging it upon a clothes line on 

 the back porch. Within half an hour the 

 Waxwings spied it and began carrying it 

 to the apple tree. They made no efforts 

 to collect twigs or any other nesting 

 material; it was quite evident that the 

 string was more to their liking and easier 

 to secure than anything else; or perhaps 

 they were tired of the old, conventional 

 way of house-building and welcomed a 

 change. 



Once, a third Waxwing, who had been 

 watching the proceedings, flew down and 

 attempted to carry away some string 

 on her own account. Then what a scolding 

 ensued, until the intruder was finally 

 driven away — without the string. 



My supply of twine threatening to 

 become exhausted, I began tearing old 

 cloth into strips about one-half an inch 

 wide and from five to twelve inches in 

 length. This, the birds liked even better; 

 and they at once redoubled their efforts. 

 How fast they worked, and what yards of 

 cloth they used ! 



For three days their little whistle was 

 the first thing I heard in the morning; and 

 it seemed as if I had no sooner hung out 

 dozens of strips of cloth, than they were 

 gone, and my birds were swinging on the 

 line eyeing the kitchen door, and coaxing 

 for more. 



I experimented with colors, and al- 

 though they apparently preferred white, 



they did use several strips of bright pink 

 outing flannel when the supply of white 

 cloth was low. 



Surely, baby Waxwings never had a 

 softer or a more conspicuous nest. Pink 

 and white rags floated gaily forth, from 

 among the green leaves, and passersby 

 frequently stopped to comment on the 

 unusual sight. 



We called it 'The Waxwings' Rag Bag'; 

 and after the little family had left for 

 warmer lands, we carefully sawed off the 

 limb of the apple tree, and a nest which 

 promises to rival all the others was added 

 to a large collection. — Mary B. Benson, 

 Everett, Mass. 



Peculiar Song of a Red-eyed Vireo 



To those interested in the songs of 

 birds, and especially in the notes one 

 species sometimes borrows from another, 

 the following incident may be of specia 

 interest. 



June 20, 1920 I had been making a list 

 of species seen for the day, and in the 

 afternoon, hearing the familiar note of a 

 Crested Flycatcher, I made a detour to 

 get a sight of the bird. As I neared the tree 

 whence came the notes, I became aware 

 that a Red-eyed Vireo was also singing 

 loudly from the same tree; but from the 

 distance I first heard the Flycatcher's 

 call; I could not hear the song of the Vireo. 

 I stood near the tree some ten minutes in 

 an endeavor to see the bird, but search as 

 I could no Flycatcher was to be seen. The 

 Vireo then attracted my attention by 

 flying about two hundred feet to another 

 tree and both voices ceased. I waited, still 

 looking for the Flycatcher, when again 

 the Vireo started to sing, and before many 

 of his questioning phrases had been 

 uttered I was surprised to hear the shrill 

 quirp of the Great Crest come from that 

 tree. My only thought was "Funny how 

 he got over there without my seeing him 

 leave." This happened twice more before 

 I discovered the Vireo was uttering both 

 songs and fooling me completely. I might 

 have followed that phantom Flycatcher 

 the rest of the afternoon had not the Vireo 



