Notes from Field and Study 



447 



just hear him. The performance was like 

 that of a bird in a reverie — like the ghost 

 of a thought of a song. His throat merely 

 trembled, and occasionally the bill parted 

 just a trifle. Yet his song seemed the full 

 repertoire of the Catbird, including, dur- 

 ing the time I listened, two faint mews. I 

 listened some five minutes, and it kept 

 up \'ery steadily. He seemed no more 

 disturbed by my presence than he had 

 been the day before, when an automobile 

 and six or eight people, talking and laugh- 

 ing, were within ten feet of him. I sus- 

 pect this bird was one of my favorite 

 singers of the summer. Altogether, this 

 was a rich experience." 



On September 17, 1910, I made this 

 record: "The Catbird sings again his 

 dreamy, ghost-like song among the weeds 

 of the old woodpile, back of the grape- 

 vines." 



I have no further records in my journal, 

 but almost every autumn I have heard 

 the whispering song, and this September 

 (1914) a Catbird, perhaps the same, per- 

 haps another, has been singing in some 

 sumach and hazel bushes back of my son's 

 sleeping-porch; possibly because the for- 

 mer haunt of weeds and woodpile has 

 been cleared away. This time the singer 

 seems more nervous and suspicious, mews 

 oftener, does not so placidly permit obser- 

 vation, and sings slightly louder; but, on 

 the whole, the performance is the same. 



What I should like to ask the editors 

 and readers of Bird-Lore is this question: 

 Have other observers noticed this trait 

 in the Catbird, or am I to suppose this a 

 trick of my own particular bird? I sus- 

 pect that all Catbirds do it and, not only 

 that, but that many other birds also 

 indulge, at this season of the year, in 

 whisper or reverie songs, in memory, as it 

 were, of departed summer joys. At any 

 rate, a Chewink has been singing, in much 

 the same voice and mood, lately, in the 

 same hazel and sumach clump, and my 

 daughter-in-law reports hearing a Wren 

 in our lane whispering a song. 



I should be grateful to learn what others 

 may know on this point. — J. William 

 Lloyd, Westfield, N. J. 



Prothonotary Warbler in Massachusetts 



At Hopkinton, Mass., on May 24, we 

 saw a Prothonotary Warbler which, at 

 the suggestion of an official of the local 

 Audubon Society, I am reporting owing 

 to its rarity in this vicinity. The bird was 

 not at all shy, spending the entire day 

 within a radius of about two hundred yards 

 of the house, often coming into an apple 

 tree so near that we were able to distin- 

 guish his markings with ease. He sang 

 almost without interruption from 6:30 .am. 

 until late in the afternoon. The song 

 slightly suggests that of the Yellow 

 Warbler, but is fuller and more penetrat- 

 ing, and different in rhythm. In Chap- 

 man's book on Warblers, he mentions only 

 five records for this species in Massa- 

 chusetts, the last in 1894. — Isabelle 

 Alexander Robry, Boston, Mass. 



Mud for Nest-Builders 



An incident of the past few days in 

 connection with our Martin colony may 

 be of interest to other lovers of these 

 sociable birds. 



A quantity of thoroughly softened 

 earth was dipped from a sunken barrel 

 intended for a lily, and left to dry before 

 removal. Almost immediately it was 

 visited by the female Martins, who had 

 already begun their nests, and they were 

 very active all the morning filling their 

 beaks with mud and packing it away in 

 the nearby house. Often five or six 

 birds would be on the ground at the same 

 time. Every morning following, the mud 

 has been watered, and the slight trouble 

 well repaid by the evident pleasure of the 

 birds in finding it so near at hand. A 

 small heap of river-sand near the same 

 barrel is visited occasionally; but whether 

 it is eaten, or used in the nests, cannot be 

 determined at present. 



Anyone will be convinced, after a little 

 reflection, that Martins (and other mud- 

 using birds) must often be compelled to 

 go long distances for this material, or 

 dispense with it entirely in towns with 

 paved streets, and nearly everywhere in 



