RED-EYED VIREO. Zo 
If its search among the lower branches is suc- 
cessful it runs along the length of a limb, holding 
its worm out at bill’s length, shaking it over the 
limb as if afraid of dropping it before it is in con- 
dition to swallow. 
But although one becomes attached to the cheery 
bird that sings at its work from morning till night, 
in park and common, as well as about the country 
house, the best way to know it is to follow one of 
the family into the edge of the woods where it 
builds its nest. 
Such an exquisite little workman as you discover 
it to be! It wonders how the meadow-lark and 
bobolink can like to nest on the damp ground, and 
how the woodpeckers can live in a tree trunk, — 
how can they ever keep their babies quiet without 
acradle! The coarse mud-plastered house of the 
robin fills it with lofty surprise. For its part it 
usually chooses a lithe sapling that responds to all 
the caprices of the wind, and from the fork of one 
of its twigs hangs a dainty birch-bark basket. 
For lining it picks up leaf-bud cases, curving 
stems of the maple seeds, — wings the children 
eall them, —and now and then a spray of hem- 
lock. With the artist’s instinct it puts the strips 
of brown bark next the lining, and keeps the shin- 
ing silvery bits for the outside. Sometimes it 
puts in pieces of white, crisp, last year’s leaves, 
and often steals the side of a small wasp’s nest to 
weave in with the rest, while bits of white cob- 
