AN ECCENTRIC BIRD. 89 



down. At every beat of the wings he threw 

 them up over his back till they seemed to meet, 

 jerked his expressive tail downward, and uttered 

 a harsh " chack," almost pausing as he did so. 

 "Not only a chat, but a character," was my 

 verdict, as I turned back from my stroll. 



For several years I had been trying to know 

 the most eccentric bird in North America, 

 the yellow-breasted chat. Two or three times I 

 had been able to study him a little, but never 

 with satisfaction, and I was charmed to discover 

 one of his kind so near the pleasant old family 

 mansion in which I had established myself for 

 the summer. This house, which had been grand 

 in its day, but, like the whole place, was now 

 tottering with age, was an ideal spot for a bird- 

 lover, being delightfully neglected and gone to 

 seed. Berry patches run wild offered fascinat- 

 ing sites for nests; moss-covered apple-trees 

 supplied dead branches for perching; great elms 

 and chestnuts, pines and poplars, scattered over 

 the grounds, untrimmed and untrained, pre- 

 sented something to suit all tastes ; and above 

 all, there existed no nice care-taker to disturb 

 the paradise into which Mother Nature had 

 turned it for her darlings. 



It was a month later than this before I dis- 

 covered where the chat and his mate, the image 

 of himself, had taken up their abode for the 



