A Bouquet of Song Birds 
some resemblance in their 4277s. A pair of these 
vireos lingered suspiciously about a certain 
clump of shrubbery ; and, as they showed pre- 
monitory signs of getting their summer-house 
ready, there was a prospect of renewing the 
acquaintance later. 
Deeper in the woods the red-eyed vireo was 
warbling endlessly, and his clear, rich tone 
seemed to have lost all trace of its usual petu- 
lance; strongly reminding one of the ‘‘ white- 
eyed.’’ The Maryland yellow-throat first be- 
trayed himself by his unmistakable waltzing 
wee-chee-chee ; a sprightly triplet phrase which 
is always a pleasant sound. He is commonly 
deep in the thickets, and is not at all eager to 
show his handsome face and figure. But the 
knowledge of a bird’s song is almost a compen- 
sation for the lack of his visible presence ; and 
his familiar message comes like the voice of a 
friend in the dark. 
The woods were full of the fluttering red- 
Starts, in their conspicuous attire of glossy 
black and flaming red; and the ear can pick 
him out almost as quickly as the eye, for hard- 
ly any other singer has a voice so sharp and 
spicy. Their house-keeping had already begun, 
or at least their house-building ; for I detected 
tI 
