532 DAN BEARD'S ANIMAL BOOK 



velvety black mask on his face the Maryland yel- 

 low-throat sang, 



"Tu we, cheete, we cheete, 

 We chete, we chete, 

 We chete, we chete too !" 



But bless his little heart he cheats no one and 

 his mask in place of acting as a disguise, is the 

 principal mark by which the bird-looker identi- 

 fies the little denizen of the thicket of wild honey- 

 suckles, grapevines, sweet ferns, and elderberry 

 bushes. 



"Tut, whe oh! what? tut! 



Whee oh, whee oh!" 



cried a voice in loud, distinct tones, and when I 

 advanced nearer, a small bird scolded me in a gut- 

 tural voice and I recognized the white-eyed vireo. 



A beautiful indigo bunting perched on an old 

 fence-post, but had nothing to say for himself, and 

 I was much disappointed, for they often sing for 

 me when I have no pencil or note book. 



There was a yellow streak as a small bird flew 

 by me and the next moment I heard him say, 

 "Wizhe-zr-zr-zr-r-r-r," but I did not know the 

 note and failed to see the bird, again ; however, it 

 was no doubt a blue-winged warbler. Such experi- 

 ences as the last do not discourage the lover of 

 birds. He knows that there are still new ac- 

 quaintances to make and abides his time. From a 

 brush heap a brown and black bird informed me 

 that his name was Cheewink, and for fear that I 

 would forget it he repeated the name several times, 



