252 IN "THE SNUGGERY" 



make itself obvious. Then I discovered, to 

 my delight, that I had happened upon what 

 seemed to be the private nursery of the tribes 

 of the air. From morning till night the air 

 was full of the low, tender notes of bird par- 

 ents, and the various calls and cries of clam- 

 orous younglings. Many of them I did not 

 recognize until a sudden lapse into an ordi- 

 nary note revealed the author. Not always, 

 alas ! could I discover who uttered the sounds 

 that puzzled me, for at the slightest movement 

 every one quickly slipped behind his green 

 curtain and was silent. I recognized the 

 yearning whispers of the flicker baby, the 

 sharp, insistent note of the song-sparrow, 

 the emphatic demand of the young robin, even 

 the comical " ma-a-a " of the infant crow on 

 the outskirts. Most interesting of all were 

 the notes of the olive-sided fly-catcher. His 

 ordinary " tu ! tu ! tu ! " prolonged into a 

 quavering, gurgling sort of tremolo in very 

 low tone, something like the " purring " of a 

 screech-owl. It was an indescribable, but 

 delicious little sound. Sometimes it was given 

 independently of the " tu ! tu ! " but was 

 always accompanied by this well-known call. 



