152 IN BIRD LAND. 
XIV. 
RIPE WITH BIRDS. 
A JAUNT TO A NEW FIELD. 
FOUR days’ outing along the Ohio River one 
7A spring brought me some “ finds” that may be 
of interest to bird lovers. Everywhere there were 
the twinkle of wings, the twitter of voices, and the 
charm of song; indeed, so plentiful were the 
feathered folk that the title of this article is far 
less poetical than realistic and descriptive. It was 
the latter part of May, the time in that latitude 
when the birds were in full song, at least those 
which were not too busy with their family cares. 
Sixty-four species were seen during a stay of four 
days in the neighborhood. 
Mine host was a farmer whose premises afforded a 
habitat for numerous birds, there being many trees 
and bushes in the yard and a large orchard near 
by. In one of the silver maples a pair of war- 
bling vireos had built a tiny pendent cradle, as is 
their wont, set in a bower of shining twigs and 
green leaves. ‘There it swayed in the zephyrs, rock- 
ing the birdlings to sleep and filling their dreams 
with rhythm; and the lullabies that the happy 
