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548 LAND BIRDS 
all this hiding he is not particularly shy, and you feel in- 
clined to set him down as a clever little tease who has 
purposely led you a chase for his own amusement. 
Throughout the long summer days his cheery, energetic 
song floats over the wet meadows and out from the 
blackberry tangles or the tule swamp. Neither the heat 
nor the cares of a family diminish his ardor one whit. 
He even springs into the air in the exuberance of joy, 
performing chatlike gymnastics to his own merry music. 
On the bulky nest, snugly hidden low in the bushes or 
long marsh grass, his plain little mate sits brooding for 
twelve days, unrelieved by the dapper singer. It is 
possible that he may feed her, but I have never been able 
to catch him at it. The female slips noiselessly, without 
protest, away through the underbrush at the first approach 
to her nest, and scolds at you from a safe distance, while 
the male, bold enough when danger threatens, comes 
nearer, calling, ‘‘ quit, quit, quit.” 
You are certain to know when the eggs have hatched 
by the storm of “ quits” that greets your approach, for 
the Yellow-throat is a devoted parent. Tirelessly he 
hunts through the wet sedge for insects, swallowing them 
himself first, and feeding the nestlings with the partly 
digested food until they are able to take it fresh from 
the field. And long after the young are feathered and 
out of the nest, they follow the adult about, refusing to 
help themselves, coaxing to be fed, until you wonder he 
has any strength left to sing. The female takes a full 
share of this labor, but is less often seen because more 
shy. 
