Vol. XX 

 1903 



I Brewster, A^'otcs on the riiiladclphia Vireo. 9 7 I 



sponding period of the following year was also spent in the same 

 locality with the same companions. The field work accomplished 

 during these two seasons was by far the most thorough and suc- 

 cessful of any that I have ever done, before or since, in this 

 region, yet on both occasions I failed to meet with the Philadelphia 

 Vireo after the close of its vernal migration, although I searched 

 for it faithfully and persistently in the places where I had seen it 

 in former years, as well as in other similar localities. Whether it 

 was really absent during these two summers or, for some reason, 

 not in full song up to the date of my departure — in which case I 

 might easily have overlooked it — I am not, of course, able to say, 

 but I can confidently affirm that it reoccupied certain of its ances- 

 tral hamits near the southern end of Lake Umbago^ during the 

 past season, and that at least one pair attempted to breed there, 

 for I found and took their nest and eggs. 



This piece of good fortune fell to my lot quite unexpectedly 

 and by the merest chance — as so often happens in such cases. 

 I had gone to the lake on June 11 with no thought of doing any 

 field work but chiefly for the purpose of superintending the pack- 

 ing and shipment of a portion of my camping outfit for which I 

 had prospective use elsewhere. The 12th and 13th were stormy 

 days, admirably adapted for continued and contented application 

 to drudgery of this kind. On the 14th, however, the weather was 

 perfect, and as my task was practically finished I started for a 

 walk -immediately after breakfast. On reaching the woods I 

 found them so very wet, after the heavy rains of the preceding 

 two days, that I was glad to follow a road that led through an 

 extensive tract of second growth poplars and paper birches, inter- 

 mingled with a few balsams and red spruces. I had gone but a 

 short distance into this cover, when an unfamiliar looking plant 

 growing by the roadside arrested my attention. As I paused to 

 examine it. I became conscious that a Vireo which I took, at first, 

 to be a Red-eye, was singing in an aspen {Popuhis t?'eimcIoides) 

 directly overhead. No doubt I had been hearing him for some 

 time, letting the sound " pass in one ear and out the other," as 

 most of us are accustomed to do when the tiresome ' Preacher ' is 

 holding forth. Nor is it likely that the song of this particular 

 bird would have finally attracted my notice had it not suddenly 



