Vol 'wi9 XVI ] Mousley, The Singing Tree. 345 



denly make off, and I knew by this that he had probably observed 

 the female and was after her; but as often as not I was in the 

 opposite direction, and was unable to follow them quickly enough 

 to obtain their exact whereabouts, and often the male was not seen 

 again for some considerable time. During such intervals I search 

 all the likely looking spots and incidentally often come across the 

 nests of other birds (as will be seen hereafter) the males of which 

 had been noticed in the same places from time to time during my 

 long enforced periods of watching. 



The Blackburnian is certainly a great singer, or at least I should 

 say persistent one, for the song cannot by any stretch of the 

 imagination be said to be great. During my long acquaintance 

 with this one he sang off and on for most of the time, and I have 

 noticed the same thing to occur with others that I have watched 

 for shorter periods. The nest contained a full set of four eggs on 

 June 18. 



And now for the afternoon of June 24, a record one in many ways, 

 for besides being the first occasion on which I had ever seen a 

 Bay-breasted Warbler (Dendroica castanea) here in the summer, 

 I had also the pleasure of finding its nest and eggs, and thus being 

 able to add it to my breeding list, to say nothing of the nests of a 

 Black-throated Green Warbler (Dendroica virens), and Magnolia 

 Warbler (Dendroica magnolia) that also fell to my lot, as well as 

 one of an Olive-backed Thrush (Hylocichla ustulata swainsoni), 

 thus constituting a record for my system for a period of about four 

 hours. 



Now to begin with I was on my way to the Cape May Warbler 

 ground, to reach which I had to pass within some two hundred 

 yards or less of the site of the nest of the Blackburnian Warbler 

 already described, when my attention was drawn to a song that 

 puzzled me. It seemed similar to that of a Blackburnian except 

 that it was sometimes given in two keys, and seemed to be generally 

 louder. On looking in the direction from which it came I espied 

 much to my astonishment in the topmost (dead) branches of a birch 

 tree a fine male Bay-breasted Warbler (Dendroica castanea). To 

 say that the Cape May was forgotten is putting it somewhat 

 mildly, as I never even gave him a thought again that afternoon, 

 so elated was I at finding a singing male of this rarity, and thus 



