RESTING TIME OF THE BIRDS 



completely to a dull olive-green, like that 

 of his inconspicuous mate, and though he 

 still retains the black of his wings and 

 tail you would not know him. 



So the bobolink who swung so con- 

 spicuously on the meadow grass in June 

 in his black and white suit comes through 

 the moulting season brown as a sparrow. 

 The vivid blue of the indigo bunting 

 falls, from him in patches and is replaced 

 by grayish brown in a large measure. 



No wonder that, utterly tired out and 

 their brilliant plumage scattered and 

 changed to dull and rusty colors, the 

 birds are silent for a time, waiting for 

 strength to recuperate. Some of them 

 seem to retain enough courage and vital- 

 ity to sing mornings through the moult- 

 ing season, notably the robins. I suspect, 

 though, that these faithful few for the 

 robin singers of the morning of the first 

 189 



