362 NOTES ON THE 



own. Once identified, it is never again forgotten. As has 

 already been intimated, they only leave us in late October and 

 early November, individuals occasionally much later, when the 

 severest frosts are materially delayed. The flight of this bird 

 is quite characteristic. Sitting quietly upon a conspicuous 

 post or stake of a fence, or in the top of a small tree, he drops 

 down to within half a yard of the ground, and with a strong, 

 even flight, follows the fence, where there is one, some little 

 distance, as if destined to light on the grass, when he suddenly 

 rises and perches upon another similar place, where he will 

 remain almost motionless until another impulse sends him 

 back to the first position in which we found him. 



The only note I have ever heard him utter was "peemp, 

 peemp," in a rather subdued manner. The food of this species 

 is mostly grasshoppers and beetles, considerable of which is 

 often impaled on thorns, or slivers in the fence. It will often 

 seize mice, if small or quite young, and will take the young or 

 the eggs of other species of birds, if not vigorously defended. 

 They seem to remain in families in their autumnal movements, 

 but return in spring in pairs, so far as I have observed them. 



SPECIFIC CHARACTERS. 



Above, rather light, pure blueish ash. Forehead, sides of 

 crown, scapulars and upper tail coverts, hoary whitish; be- 

 neath, plain whitish; wings and tail black; the former with a 

 white patch at base of primaries and tips of small quills, the 

 latter with the lateral feathers tipped with white, extending 

 broadly at the base. Bill throughout, pitch black; a contin- 

 uous black stripe from the bill through and behind the eye. 



Length, 8.75; wing, 3.95; tail, 4.35. 



Habitat, United States, except the South. 



Family YIREOKID^. 



TIREO OLIVACEUS (L.). (624.) 



RED-EYED VIREO. 



No one interested in bird life, and fond of the quiet groves 

 of lofty forest trees in spring and summer, can fail to appre- 

 ciate this abundant sum cner resident of the woods of Minnesota. 

 His song is almost unceasing from the dawn of day until the 

 groves are drowsy with the last gloamings of twilight. 



For many years I have had a cottage on the shores of Lake 

 Minnetonka, (now famous as a resort, fourteen miles distant 

 from this city) beautifully enveloped in primeval woods of oak. 



