The Audubon Societies 



335 



FOR AND FROM ADULT AND YOUNG 

 OBSERVERS 



Vireo, Vireo, 



Where do you go 

 When the summer's done 

 And the winter's begun? 



Where do you go, 



Vireo, Vireo? 



VIREO 



Vireo, Vireo, 



Where do you go? 

 Do you wander all night, 

 With no shelter in sight? 



Where do you go, 



Vireo, Vireo? 



-Doris E. Fernald (Age lo years), Jackson, N. H. 





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■fwrifi^ 



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IHIS PlcrUKE MAKES HER LOOK. SMALL 



M \X SHE ACTL \l.L\ IS 



A MOTHER NIGHTHA\A/'K AND HER NESTLINGS 



I have spent a great many summer evenings watching the Nighthawks in 

 their erratic flights for insects, and listening to their loud nasal peent and the 

 booming sound said to be the rush of air through their wings. When they 

 came down low enough for me to distinguish the large white spot on each 

 wing, their broad wing-spread made them look like such large birds that I 

 often wished I might see them at close range. This last summer of 19 15, my 

 wish was gratified. A friend told me of the nesting-place of the bird, and I 

 quickly availed myself of the opportunity of visiting it. A stranger place 

 could not be imagined for a wild bird's nest. On the ground on some waste 



