170 OVEN-BIRD. 
ing birds, but the species now to be spoken of pass most 
of their time in the undergrowth or on the ground. The 
Oven-hird, Oven-bird chooses the latter locality. 
Seirus aurocapillus. He has been well compared by Mr. 
Plate LXII. ‘Burroughs to a little Partridge, and if 
you have enough perseverance to find the author of the 
sharp cheep with>which this somewhat suspicious bird 
will greet you, you will see a modestly attired little 
walker daintily picking his way over the leaves and fallen 
branches, with crest slightly erect, and head nodding at 
each step. 
Probably, however, your first acquaintance with the 
Oven-bird will be made through the medium of his song. 
There are few bits of woodland where in May and June 
you can not hear numbers of these birds singing. It is a 
loud, ringing, crescendo chant, to which Mr. Burroughs’s 
description of “teacher, teacher, TEAcHER, TEACHER, 
TEACHER” is so applicable that no one would think of 
describing it in any other way. The bird seems to exert 
himself to the utmost, and no one hearing this far from 
musical performance would imagine that he could im- 
prove upon it. But if some evening during the height 
of the mating season you will visit the Oven-bird’s 
haunts, you may hear a song whose wildness is startling. 
It is the flight-song of the Oven-bird, transforming the 
humble chanter into an inspired musician. Soaring high 
above the trees, he gives utterance to a rapid, ecstatic 
warbling so unlike his ordinary song that it is difficult to 
believe one bird is the author of them both. 
As an architect the Oven-bird is also distinguished. 
His unique nest is built on the ground of coarse grasses, 
weed stalks, leaves, and rootlets, and is roofed over, the 
entrance being at one side. It thus resembles an old- 
fashioned Dutch oven, and its shape is the origin of its 
builder’s name. The Oven-bird arrives from the South 
