Dickcissel. 33 



bird-seekers. The eggs are four or five in first comple- 

 ments and three or four in late sets, for I have found as 

 many incubated complements of three eggs as four in 

 July nesting. They resemble the eggs of the bluebird 

 so closely that I can perceive no difference. Their aver- 

 age size is .80 by .60 of an inch. 



A feature to be remarked in the habits of the Dickcis- 

 sels is the abrupt change of manners, after their broods 

 are reared, from their former life of activity and ener- 

 getic singing to a period of close seclusion and almost ab- 

 solute silence. This transition from song to silence takes 

 place with the individuals when the yellow mouths of the 

 nestlings transform the eager songs of the males into anx- 

 ious chirps for the safety and comfort of their offspring. 

 The sharp chirps of the parent birds, supplying the hun- 

 gry demands of their younglings, are the only notes 

 heard, soon to be supplanted by the sharper cries of the 

 fledgelings after they leave the nests and sit in the hedges 

 and on grass tufts calling loudly for immediate attention. 

 The young, however, soon learn to make their own liv- 

 ing, and then the family disappears. I believe that the 

 young males sometimes attempt to sing before they leave 

 the localities where they are reared, for on several occa- 

 sions I have heard a queer song of the species, which I 

 immediately decided to be the performance of a young 

 male of the year. This premature song usually begins 

 with several sharp chirps, and ends with a squeaky re- 

 semblance to the " cissel, cisscl " part. Its imperfection 

 is so manifest that it can not be ascribed to a practiced 

 vocalist of the earlier season. 



The change of habits of the Dickcissels is almost sim- 

 ultaneous with the disappearance of the orioles, who ab- 

 ruptly depart from the scenes of their former vivacity 

 and melody. The Dickcissels, however, remain in the 

 neighborhood after they become silent, resorting to the 

 thick foliage of the hedges and to patches of tangled 

 weeds. As we ramble along the hedges in August, we 

 startle them out and they dart ahead of us in their slightly 

 undulating, sparrow-like flight, soon turning hastily into 

 the hedge or dropping into the weeds, which form a close 

 covert for their movements. When there are wild black- 

 3 



