CARDINAL, 153 
singers have dropped from the chorus that his voice be- 
comes conspicuous. 
Not far away his mate is doubtless sitting on her blu- 
ish white eggs in a nest low down in the crotch of a bush. 
He in his deep indigo costume may be easily identified, 
but she is a dull brownish bird, about the size of a Ca- 
nary, sparrowlike in appearance, though with unstreaked 
plumage, and a difficult bird to name, even when you 
have a specimen in your hand, while in the bush, if silent, 
she is a puzzle. But she is far too good a mother not to 
protest if you venture too near her home, and her sharp 
pit or peet usually calls her mate, whom you will recog- 
nize at once. 
The Cardinal is about the size of a Towhee, with 
plumage which, except for a black throat, is almost 
wholly rosy red. Seeing a mounted 
- avg am Cardinal, one might imagine that he 
was a conspicuous bird in life and easy 
to observe; but the truth is that, in spite of his bright 
colors, the Cardinal is a surprisingly difficult bird to see. 
You may often hear his sharp, insignificant ¢sip without 
catching a glimpse of the caller, so well can he conceal 
himself. His olive-brown mate is, of course, even more 
difficult to find, and when you do see her you would 
hardly suspect the relationship were it not for her actions 
and the striking crest worn by both sexes. 
The Cardinal’s song is a rich, sympathetic whistle. 
His mate also sings at times, and I carry in my memory 
a musical courting I once observed, in which a pair of 
these beautiful birds were the actors. The song begins 
with whee-you, whee-you, long-drawn notes, which are 
followed by a more rapid hurry, hurry, hurry; quick, 
quick, quick, and other notes difficult of description. 
The Cardinal is a bird of the Southern rather than of 
the Northern States, and is rarely seen north of New 
