is uttered in a spirited manner while 

 the bird is feeding and flitting about in 

 the foliage, it interfering with the 

 feeding only as a sort of after-thought, 

 causing a momentary pause as the bird 

 raises his head and straightens his body 

 for the effort. It is one of the warbler 

 songs that are easily recognized and not 

 readily forgotten. 



Were it not for the white spot or 

 patch on the wing of both male and 

 female at all seasons of the year and in 

 all plumages, this warbler would easily 

 escape the notice of all but the alert 

 ornithologist. His black throat and 

 breast, white belly and blue back and 

 wings and tail are not conspicuous in 

 the trees and foliage. 



The black-throated blue warbler 



spends the winter months in Guatemala 

 and the West Indies, and migrates north 

 to Labrador and Hudson's Bay, nesting 

 there and in the northern parts of the 

 United States. It ranges west to the 

 border of the plains. 



The nest is placed in low shrubs or 

 bushes from a few inches to two feet 

 above the ground, and is composed of 

 dry fibrous bark, twigs, and roots, lined 

 with black rootlets and hair. The out- 

 side is often more or less covered with 

 cocoons. The thick swampy woods 

 with an undergrowth seems to be the 

 favorite resort for the nesting birds. 

 The four eggs are buffy-white to green- 

 ish-white, rather heavily blotched with 

 varying shades of brown. They, aver- 

 age about .69 X .50 of an inch. 



THE EMPEROR^S BIRD'S NEST. 



Once the Emperor Charles of Spain, 

 With his swarthy, grave comman- 

 ders — 

 I forget in what campaign — 

 Long besieged, in mud and rain, 



Some old frontier town of Flanders- 



Up and down the dreary camp, 



In great boots of Spanish leather, 

 Striding with a measured tramp. 

 These Hidalgos, dull and damp. 



Cursed the Frenchmen, cursed the 

 weather. 



Thus, as to and fro they went, 



Over upland and through hollow, 

 Giving their impatience vent, 

 Perched upon the Emperor's tent, 

 In her nest, they spied a swallow. 



Yes, it was a swallow's nest, 



Built of clay and hair of horses. 

 Mane or tail, or dragoon's crest. 

 Found on hedge-rows east and west, 

 After skirmish of the forces. 



Then an old Hidalgo said, 



As he twirled his gray mustachio, 

 "Sure this swallow overhead 

 Thinks the Emperor's tent a shed. 

 And the Emperor but a machor 



Hearing his imperial name 



Coupled with those words of malice, 

 Half in anger, half in shame, 



Forth the great campaigner came 

 Slowly from his canvas palace. 



"Let no hand the bird molest," 

 Said he solemnly, "nor hurt her!" 



Adding then, by way of jest, 



"Golondrina is my guest, 



'Tis the wife of some deserter!" 



Swift as bowstring speeds a shaft. 

 Through the camp was spread the 

 rumor. 

 And the soldiers as they quaffed 

 Flemish beer at dinner, laughed 

 At the Emperor's pleasant humor. 



So unharmed and unafraid, 



Sat the swallow still and brooded. 



Till the constant cannonade 



Through the walls a breach had made 

 And the siege was thus concluded. 



Then the army, elsewhere bent, 

 Struck its tents as if disbanding. 



Only not the Emperor's tent, 



For he ordered, ere he went, 



Very curtly, "Leave it standing!" 



So it stood there all alone. 



Loosely flapping, torn and tattered, 

 Till the brood was fledged and flown. 

 Singing o'er those walls of stone 



Which the cannon-shot had shattered. 

 — Longfellow. 



48 



