148 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 



over our heads, and uttering a loud chuck ah, hid 

 away in the leaves. It was the scarlet tanager, 

 the bird of glowing coal, whose brilliancy passes 

 wonder. His black wings and tail seemed only 

 to intensify his flaming coat, which literally daz- 

 zled my eyes as I looked at him. Little marvel 

 that he takes pleasure in the green leaves ! and 

 chooses a wife in most " natural selection " 

 who is also his complemental color ! 



But how could Madam Tanager ever live with 

 such a fiery husband if her eyes did not find re- 

 lief in her own greens ? Even then it would seem 

 that she had to become accustomed to him by de- 

 grees, for in his youth her gay cavalier is relieved 

 by green, yellow, and black. Perhaps even his 

 own eyes get tired, for like the bobolink and gold- 

 finch in the fall he gets out his old clothes and 

 flies away south in as plain a garb as his lady's. 



Strolling through Paradise on another day I 

 heard a song that I did not know, and leaving the 

 river edge with its green grass and forget-me-nots, 

 and clambering up the steep hillside where the 

 magic witch-hazel blooms and shoots its seeds afar, 

 I made my way cautiously to the tree from which 

 the voice came. There, high over my head, was 

 another scarlet tanager. He was evidently a 

 young gentleman, for there was still a yellowish 

 streak across his breast, but he sang his woodsy 

 song with all the gusto of an old bass. It is 

 loud and harsh, but in a rhythm that, as it has 



