WARBLERS 549 



The eggs are usually four in number, but sometimes five are 

 laid, and with us they are usually laid about the last week in 

 May. They are creamy white, speckled and spotted with 

 hazel and lilac, and cinnamon-rufous, usually most heavily at 

 the larger end, often forming a wreath about the larger end, 

 and in size average about 0.78 x 0.56. After the young leave 

 the nest they feed about the shores of the ponds and in wet 

 swampy places and in the latter part of August and early in 

 September they begin their southern movement. While they 

 are a bird with an attractive song, and in May they feed more 

 or less about the foliage of trees for insect food, they are a bird 

 not commonly seen by the new beginner, yet when one dis- 

 covers the bird or has it pointed out, and once hears its bright 

 and extremely pleasing song, it is an easy bird to distinguish 

 about the shores of ponds or along the banks of rivers, as the 

 frequent flit of its tail is a rather sure characteristic to distin- 

 guish it by. I have had no opportunity to examine the con- 

 tents of its stomach, yet it feeds on some insect life found 

 about the foliage of the trees near the water and feeds leisurely 

 along the wet places in swamps along the shore, on water 

 insects and some vegetable matter found in such places. It 

 may be seen walking along at the water's edge, leisurely feed- 

 ing, hopping up on a stick or stone, flitting its tail in a jerky 

 manner, then resuming its search for food." 



I would briefly supplement Mr. Swain's remarks by saying 

 that where I have met with the species in the breeding season 

 it has been invariably about the rather low wooded shores of 

 various ponds and lakes in the Canadian faunal region of the 

 State. 



The song not distantly resembles that of the American 

 Red-start, but there is in addition a so-called "passion song" 

 which I have never heard but will quote from Mr. Jones' 

 account, (Warbler Songs, pp. 43-44.) He writes: — "The 

 ordinary song is, to my ear, a series of double syllabled, clear, 

 ringing whistles, followed by a soliloquizing twitter. It is a 



