JUNE IN FRANC ON I A. 11 



ing together, talking by the way, when all 

 at once we halted, as by a common impulse, 

 at the sound of a vireo song; a red-eye's 

 song, as it seemed, with the faintest touch of 

 something unfamiliar about it. The singer 

 was in a small butternut-tree close upon the 

 sidewalk, and at once afforded us perfectly 

 satisfactory observations, perching on a low 

 limb within fifteen feet of our eyes, and 

 singing again and again, while we scruti- 

 nized every feather through our glasses. As 

 one of my companions said, it was like hav- 

 ing the bird in your hand. There was no 

 room for a question as to its identity. At 

 last we had before us the rare and long- 

 desired Philadelphia greenlet. As its song 

 is little known, I here transcribe my notes 

 about it, made at two different times, be- 

 tween which there appears to have been some 

 discussion among us as to just how it should 

 be characterized : 



" The song is very pretty, and is curiously 

 compounded of the red-eye's and the soli- 

 tai^r's, both as to phrase and quality. The 

 measures are all brief; with fewer syllables, 

 that is to say, than the red-eye commonly 

 uses. Some of them are exactly like the 



