THE CEDAR WAXWING. 351 



rinvan trees in _\uur truut yaril some bleak day in December: they may nest in 

 your orchard the following Jul)'; and you may not see them on _\our premises 

 again for years — unless you keep cherry trees. It nuist be confessed (since 

 the shade of the cherry tree is ever sacred to Truth ) that the Cedarbird. or 

 "Cherrvbird," has a single passion, a consuming desire for cherries. I'ut don't 

 kill him for that. Vou like cherries yourself. All the more reason, then. 

 why you should be charitable toward a brother's weakness. Besides, lie is so 

 handsome, — handsomer himself than a luscious cherry even. Feast your eyes 

 upon him, those marvelous melting browns, those shifting saffrons and Quaker 

 drabs, those red sealing-wax tips on the wing-quills (he is canning cherries, 

 you see, and comes provided). Feast your eyes, I say, and carry the vision to 

 the table with you — and a few less cherries. Or, if there are not enough for 

 vou both, (haw a decent breadth of mosquito-netting over the tree, and ab- 

 solve your soul of murderous intent. Remember, too, if you require self- 

 justification, that earlier in the season he diligently devoured noxious worms 

 and insect pests, so that he has a clear right to a share in the fruit of his labors. 



Cherries are bv no means the nnh* kind of fruit eaten by these Ijirds. 

 Like most orchard-haunting species, they are very fond of mulberries, while 

 the red berries of the mountain ash are a staple ration in fall and winter. 

 Truth to tell, these beauties are sad gluttons, and they will gor<;e thenisehes 

 at limes till the very efl'ort of swallowing becomes a delicious ])ain. 



The Cedarbird, being so singularly endowed with the gift of l)eaiit\-, is 

 denied the gift of song. He is, in fact, the most nearly voiceless of any of 

 the American Oscines, his sole note being a high-pitched sibilant squeak. In- 

 deed, so higli-pitched is this extraordinary note that many people, and ihe\- 

 trained bird-men, cannot hear them at all, even when the Waxwings are 

 s(|ucaking all about them. It is an almost uncanny spectacle, that of a company 

 of Waxwings sitting aloft in some leafless tree early in spring, erect, immov- 

 able, like soldiers on parade, but complaining to each other in that faint, ])ene- 

 trating monotone. It is as tho you had come upon a company of the Immor- 

 tals, higli-removed, conversing of matters too recondite for human ki'u. and 

 surveying you the while with Olympian disdain. You steal away from the 

 foot of the tree with a chastened sense of having encountered something not 

 quite understandable. 



The dilatory h;ibits (if these birds are \\ell shdwn in their nesting, which 

 they ])ut off until late June or July, for no apparent reason. In con.structing 

 the nest the birfls use anything soft and pliable whicli happens to catch the 

 eve. Some specimens arc composed entirely of the green hanging mosses. 

 while others are a complicated mixture of twigs, leaves, rootlets, fibers, 

 grasses, rags, string, paper, and what not. The nest may be placed at any 

 moderate height up to fifty feet, and a great variety of trees are u.sed altho 

 orchard trees are fax'orites. The birds are lialf gregarious, e\en in the nest- 



