AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 75 



this was something rare the search began, and here was an ordinary Balti- 

 more Oriole! No, he was not ordinary, he had that song! 



Through the summer he was like a personal friend. The song marked 

 him apart from his tribe. Sometimes in the elm near the swinging nest 

 built later on. sometimes in the evergreens or in the maples along the street, 

 he was ever ready to reply to a poorly whistled human imitation of his song 

 by a ringing rendering of his own, — as if to say. "There sir. that's the way !" 



Nesting time passed; the freshness of Spring became the heat of Summer; 

 the songs became less frequent; after a faint revival in August they ceased 

 altogether. Winter passed; Spring came again and the reappearance of the 

 songster was eagerly awaited. Finally one calm Sunday morning in May. 

 there it was again ! Xo. — not exactly the same, but still the same song. He 

 omitted the last two notes from the previous year's song. Throughout the 

 Summer he sang except in the moulting season of late July, but with less 

 frequency, brilliancy and strength than before, and again he disappeared 

 at the approach of Fall. 



In the summer of 1905 the writer had changed his place of residence and 

 was able to observe the old locality only a few times. On one occasion the 

 song-phrase was recognized while passing along the street. The bird is re- 

 garded as a personal friend whose reappearance is eagerly awaited. 



SAPSUCKER SKETCHES. 

 By Stephen P. Browxell. 



Looking at the young sapsucker in the picture (see Feb. A. O. p. 37), one 

 might reasonably conclude that it had bored the holes in the bark of the 

 alder from which it is drinking the sap. But this bird is not the carpenter 

 which has so fatally mutilated this tree. The holes were made by its in- 

 dulgent mother. The young bird is reaping the fruit, or rather, drinking 

 the sap of her labors. As with human kind, you cannot always tell from the 

 money one has who earned it, or from the clothes one wears who paid for 

 them; also among sapsuckers, we cannot safely conclude that the bird which 

 sucks the sap. drilled the holes from which it flows. 



For several weeks last summer a family of yellow-bellied sapsuckers 

 (Sphyrapieus varius) came daily to a clump of alders, -where I often spent 

 the morning hours in study. We were engaged quite differently. I, tapping 

 my head for ideas that would not flow; they, tapping trees for sap that read- 

 ily exuded. And yet I hope they enjoyed my company as well as I did 

 theirs. 



The family consisted of the parent birds and two young ones. During 

 my observation of these birds, covering a period of about six weeks, I noticed 

 a marked development in the plumage of the young. The white lines above 



