THE PARULA WARBLER AND ITS NEST 



Walking through the woods one day, 1 was surprised by a bird drop- 

 ping lightly to the ground at my feet, and, (as I stopped instantly) seeing 

 it calmly go about picking up tiny bits as if I were not there. It was a 

 mite of a bird, and beautifully marked with various colors. After a few 

 moments it flew on through the woods and I said to myself, "some one 

 is going to house-keeping and I \vonder whoi^" 



I came home and went to my books, and yes, it was as I thought and 

 hoped, the Parula Warbler. I had seen mounted specimens and pictures, 

 but this was my first acquaintance with the bird 



The next day I came upon the same bird on a bush and as I looked at 

 it, it flew up into a tree close by, and into a dark spot among the foliage, 

 where I could see that it was jerking and twitching things about, and 

 then away. Still watching and peeping I finally found an opening 

 which showed me a nest, and then the bird came back with more mater- 

 ial and renewed its work. You may know that this was highly interest- 

 ing since the books say it builds its nest in the long tufts of gray lichens, 

 {Csnea barbaia), and this was not in long moss, but in the boughs of a 

 hemlock tree ! A beech had been blown over and leaned against this 

 hemlock bending some of the branches until they were quite perpendicu- 

 lar, and very thick, so of course it made a place more like the moss 

 which it is said to use. I visited this nest often, but it was so high up — 

 about forty-five feet — that I could see nothing but the birds leaving or 

 approaching it, and that it was a pendent nest, like that of the oriole, 

 only smaller. I longed to get that nest down after Parula was done with 

 it, but had not succeeded in doing so, when a storm in mid-winter car- 

 ried it ofi. The next spring the Parulas were often seen about the bird's 

 bathing-place, and were like most of the birds, very tame. Many times 

 they shook off the water and preened their feathers on low branches near 

 me, and glanced down at me most sociably. I had good opportunities 

 for seeing their pretty markings, the bright yellow of chin and throat, 

 melting into the rich orange-bronze across the breast, this changing sud- 

 denly to the white of underparts. The blue of upper parts with the 

 bronze across the back and the two white wing-bars — instead of one as 

 many books say. Then some dashes of white on the tail, and vou have 

 as dainty a bird as can be imagined. 



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