126 



ORNITHOLOGIST 



[Vol. 18-N0. 9 



maining miles dwindled, the sun sank lower 

 and lower, and when we reached the Dela- 

 ware valley again, at the Bushkill, the sun 

 was setting, and we heard the wierd picink 

 of the Night Hawks overhead. As we drove 

 through a shady copse, we heard the liquid 

 notes of Whip-poor-will, and soon the valley 

 was filled with their sadly musical notes. 

 Just before we finished our drive, we heard a 

 ghastly gurgling scream, or groan, repeated 

 several times, and looking toward the moonlit 

 sky we finally saw a small Owl fly out on 

 silent wings. I have ne\er identified any owl 

 notes with their authors, but I took this to 

 be a Screech Owl. 



The next morning I was awakened by a 

 rollicking song, and saw a Red-eyed Vireo 

 singing away within a couple of feet of my 

 open window. Hearing a strange song, I 

 dressed hastily and went exploring. It was 

 a perfect summer morning, an ideal time for 

 an ornithologist to be awake. The air was 

 filled with music, and everything had an air 

 of enchantment, in the early sunlight, that 

 made it seem more than ever like a foreign 

 country. Surely, I thought, I shall like Penn- 

 sylvania more than Vermont ; and now the 

 summer is over, I am inclined to think it is 

 a fine place and Pike County its best corner. 



Hunting up my strange song I found it 

 came from a gorgeous Scarlet Tanager, 

 perched on a dead locust limb, within twenty 

 feet of the piazza. I looked around for his 

 nest, and soon found it, a frail bunch of sticks 

 with the mother bird showing through it. It 

 was placed in a flat crotch of the same tree, 

 in a bunch of verdure hanging directly over 

 the road, not over fifteen feet up. .4s I 

 watched the quiet little matron, I heard a 

 familiar call, that sad, simple little refrain, 

 pee-wee, followed by a flutter, and a quick 

 snap as a moth went to its doom. I soon 

 found Pewee's nest, a dainty lichen-covered 

 cup, in an upright crotch in a limb almost at 

 the top of the next locust, along the fence. 

 Looking lower, I saw a Chipping Sparrow at 

 work on a nest, low enough to reach by stand- 



ing on the fence. After the little spizellae 

 came into the world, I often got up and 

 watched them, and when they flew I took 

 the nest. 



Going round the house, I saw a Phoebe 

 fly hurriedly away from the piazza, and it 

 took little search to find the clumsy mud 

 nest on the cross beam, with its five little 

 gap-mouth birdlings. We watched those all 

 summer, too, and missed the little black-eyed 

 mother when the brood flew, and she flew 

 with them. In a big basswood at the back 

 of the house, I heard an Oriole singing away, 

 and presently he showed me his swinging 

 cradle, not a whit afraid for me to admire it 

 from the lowly station I occupied. As I 

 reached the corn crib there was a clatter of 

 wings and a Blue Jay went off up the moun- 

 tain s,CTtammg Jay, Jay, Jay, till the moun- 

 tains mocked him. In the orchard behind 

 the kitchen I heard a sharp chehee, cliebee, 

 and found the Least Flycatcher, looking sour 

 and glum as though his breakfast was want- 

 ing. 1 began to sympathize with him, and 

 went in to prospect, scaring a dainty little 

 Hummingbird from the glowing nasturtiums. 



After breakfast my brother and I started 

 off fishing, and though we had a very good 

 time, we saw nothing of interest to the " O. 

 & O." We found Brown Thrashers every- 

 where ; Catbirds nearly as common, and 

 Baltimore Orioles in every orchard. I think 

 the best way to give an idea of what we found 

 would be to tell what we didn't find. I 

 never saw so many species of birds in so 

 short a time in my life ; from the "canaille '' 

 of birds to the "noblesse," all had their re- 

 presentatives. The common Sparrows, as 

 Chippy, Grasshopper, Field, Song, Savanna, 

 were dancing around the vines in the fence 

 corners, and solitary Kingbirds sat haughtily 

 on fence poles. The glorious melody of the 

 Wood Thrush came from the forest across 

 the field, while the Oriole and Song Sparrow, 

 with homelier melody, swelled the chorus. 



The warblers were very few as residents. 

 The omnipresent Golden Warbler, the to me 



