56 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



the brush. Though quite engrossed with the 

 gnats, it was finally forced upon me that there is 

 more than one family in the world. The blue- 

 gray's oak was' a favored one. A pair of hang- 

 birds had built there before the gnats came, and 

 now two more families had come, making four 

 for the big oak. 



When first suspecting a house on the north side 

 of the tree, I moved my chair over there. Pres- 

 ently a vireo with disordered breast feathers flew 

 down on a dead twig close to the ground and 

 leaned over with a tired anxious look, and craning 

 her neck, turned her head on one side, and bent 

 her eyes on the ground scrutinizingly. Then she 

 hopped down, picked up something, threw it away, 

 picked up another piece and flew back to her perch 

 with it, as if to make up her mind if she really 

 wanted that. Then her mate came, raised his 

 crown and looked down at the bit of material with 

 a puzzled air as if wishing he knew what to say ; 

 as if he felt he ought to be able to help her decide. 

 But he seemed helpless and could only follow her 

 around when she was at work, singing to her be- 

 times, and keeping off friends or -enemies who 

 came too near. When the young hatched I no- 

 ticed a still more marked difference between the 

 nervous manners of the gnats, and the repose of 

 vireos. While the gnat flipped about distractedly, 

 the vireo sat calmly beside her nest, an exquisite 

 white basket hanging under the leaves in the 



