130 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 



who lived across the road by the bank of Mill 

 River had flown over to talk with the visitors ; 

 while above the rest full and rich came the song 

 of the handsome rose-breasted grosbeak. My 

 cover was a happy thought. Right into the tree 

 over my head came the birds, so busy flitting 

 about the leaves they had little time to look under 

 the branches. And most beautiful of all though 

 a rainbow of warblers came before I left was 

 this dainty, golden-throated vireo. 



Less restless than the warblers, he inspected the 

 boughs more thoroughly, giving toe at intervals 

 glimpses of his olive back, white wing bars, and 

 bright yellow chin and throat as well as his pretty 

 yellow breast that turns to white below. Whe-he- 

 he, he sang out as he worked, and I suspect his 

 sharp eyes detected me when he turned his head 

 on one side and peered through the leaves. 



How delighted I was to discover, a few weeks 

 later, that he or one of his brothers had gone to 

 housekeeping on the campus ! The nest was the 

 first vireo basket I had ever seen, and I well re- 

 member the enthusiasm it excited in the other 

 college girls. We would go out after breakfast, 

 wade through the damp grass to the maple from 

 which it hung, and stand looking up at it, admir- 

 ing the bits of white trimming fastened on at reg- 

 ular intervals along the sides, and exclaiming at 

 the beauty of the architect watching us from among 

 the leaves, until, at last, the tolling of the chapel 

 bell would send us hurrying back up the hill. 



