202 HAPS IN THE FIELD 



was a distinctly purple finch voice, but it 

 differed in arrangement, and was softer than 

 any of the family I had heard. I judged 

 therefore that it was a female and not the 

 young of the previous year, although their 

 plumage is so similar. 



The variety in dress of the same species, 

 as seen in this flock, was remarkable. Not 

 only was the crimson of the various individ- 

 uals of different intensity and depth of color- 

 ing, but it differed in extent. The breast, 

 too, in some was of a muddy white or gray- 

 ish hue, while the finer specimens sported a 

 breast of snowy white. The little party were 

 charmingly social. Sometimes they would 

 fly out from a tall elm, all chattering like a 

 party of school-girls. 



From my seat I could see the dead branch 

 watch-tower the kingbird is so fond of hav- 

 ing over his nest. I soon found his nest in 

 the top of an apple-tree, and saw that in this 

 case he had two dead branch outlooks on the 

 world. The lower one curved up about a 

 foot above the nest, and was the one usually 

 occupied by the mother, while the other 

 reached up fully two feet above the foliage, 



