ROSE-BREASTED GROSBEAKS. 199 



had, as yet, no foliage. From its long, naked branches, 

 only the slender seed-vessels " beans," we call them 

 dangled in the breeze, and ever and anon striking a 

 neighboring branch, they rattled like a gourd. They had 

 remained closed during the winter, and now, if ever, was 

 the time for them to open and let loose the prisoned 

 seeds. Their time, however, did not appear to have come ; 

 but to-day a grosbeak "did the business" for the one 

 tree near my garden fence. Never was a bird more me- 

 thodical in anything it undertook, and generally birds 

 " take matters into consideration " before beginning any 

 work. Clinging to a convenient twig, the nearest to the 

 one that supported the pendent pod, the grosbeak nipped 

 open the seed-vessel near the stem, making but a short in- 

 cision, and then drew forth a single seed. This it trim- 

 med, and let the light, feathery particles come floating 

 down to me. The kernel the bird reserved to itself. 

 Then the next seed, and the next were taken out, in the 

 same quiet, methodical way, until the free end of the pod 

 was reached. The last seed was detached by separating 

 the two halves of the pod, and these then swung apart, 

 and, slightly curling upward, trembled in the breeze, as 

 they drooped from the dainty stem. Then the grosbeak 

 passed to another pod or "bean," nor did he quit work 

 until every one was rifled of its contents, split apart, and 

 left swinging in the wind. If there were a hundred 

 " beans" at the outset, there were now two hundred halves 

 of bean-pods dangling in the air ; giving the leafless, spi- 

 der-leg branches a more ragged appearance than before. 

 During all this time, not a note from the busy bird, not 

 a chirp nor twitter. This was cunning, perhaps, as it 

 might have been afraid of attracting others who would 

 claim a share of the feast. 



It was not until the settled warm weather of June 



