IN THE HEMLOCKS. 91 



I found the nest of one in an uplying beech- 

 wood, in a low bush near the roadside, where 

 cows passed and browsed daily. Things went 

 on smoothly till the cow-bunting stole her 

 egg into it, when other mishaps followed, and 

 the nest was soon empty. A characteristic 

 attitude of the male during this season is a 

 slight drooping of the wings, and tail a little 

 elevated, which gives him a very smart, ban- 

 tam-like appearance. His song is fine and 

 hurried, and not much of itself, but has its 

 place in the general chorus. 



A far sweeter strain, falling on the ear 

 with the true sylvan cadence, is that of the 

 black-throated green-backed warbler, whom 

 I meet at various points. He has no superi- 

 ors among the true Sylvia. His song is very 

 plain and simple, but remarkably pure and 

 tender, and might be indicated by straight 



lines thus V ; the first two 



marks representing two sweet, silvery notes, 

 in the same pitch of voice, and quite unac- 

 cented ; the latter marks, the concluding 

 notes, wherein the tone and inflection are 

 changed. The throat and breast of the male 

 are a rich black, like velvet, his face yellow, 

 and his back a yellowish green. 



Beyond the Bark-peeling, where the woods 



