AN OCTOBER DIARY. 353 



this statement on notes of their presence jotted down 

 during the past twenty years. 



October 23. — At sunrise there came a shower of 

 liquid bird -notes trickling through the pines — songs 

 that resembled the lower tones of tlie musical water- 

 jars of the ancient Peruvians. They were uttered by 

 a flock of fifty or more cowpen - birds, singing in con- 

 cert. The birds sat in short rows on the branches of 

 the pines, and did not move the while, except to 

 slightly raise their wings and spread their tails, as the 

 soft sounds came bubbling up to their beaks and trickled 

 over. They are curious birds. Cuckoo-like, they build 

 no nests, but drop their eggs, here and there, in the 

 nests of much smaller birds. Thus much all the world 

 knows, or ought to know ; but how little besides has 

 been recorded of them ! In Central New Jersey they' 

 are not migratory. They come and go, erratically, like 

 the robin. A week or perhaps a month may pass with- 

 out one being seen, and then, some bright morning, they 

 may be tlie first birds to attract our attention as we 

 venture out of doors. 



It is commonly stated that these birds are gregarious 

 tlie year through ; but this is, at least, open to discus- 

 sion ; and depends very much upon the number of birds 

 needed to make a " flock," From March to September 

 they are most frequently seen in pairs or trios, and quite 

 often singly. They associate with the robins, and are 

 constant companions of meadow-larks, whose flight, even, 

 they sometimes purposely imitate. When the female 

 is ready to lay her eggs, she skulks through the bushes 



