320 BIRDS OF MASSACHUSETTS. 



mer resident in this State. He is retired in his habits, but not 

 distrustful, and as he often comes into enclosures, he is well 

 known by his rich and elegant plumage, and the sweet variety 

 of his song. His common note is a chip, chirr , repeated at 

 short intervals, in such a tone that it is very difficult for the 

 hearer to determine whence the sound proceeds. At other 

 times he has a song, which bears some resemblance to that of 

 the red-eye, excepting that it is more continuous and unbroken. 

 Were it not that the eye is charmed by the beauty of his scar- 

 let and glossy black, as it glows against the foliage in the sun, 

 his musical powers would be more highly estimated. There 

 is nothing to be set off against these recommendations. He 

 cannot be accused of any kind of depredation. His food con- 

 sists of insects, and of these, he is particularly fond of the 

 wasp, one of our greatest fruit destroyers. Sometimes he 

 feeds on berries and seeds, but they are not taken from the 

 garden. 



These birds arrive toward the last of May, and immediately 

 begin to build, generally on the large bow of an oak, but some- 

 times on an orchard tree. The nest is loosely put together. 

 The eggs are three or four, bluish, spotted with purple and 

 brown. They are very affectionate toward their young. If 

 any one approaches the nest, the female is in great distress. 

 As soon as they require food, the male supplies it, and so anx- 

 ious is he for their welfare, that he has been known to follow 

 one of them for half a mile, and as he could not release it, to 

 feed it through the wires of its cage, and roost in the same tree 

 by night. At the beginning of August, the male assumes the 

 green and yellow dress of the female, and in company with 

 their young, they set off for their winter quarters. 



The INDIGO BIRD, Tringilla cyanea, is a spirited and beauti- 

 ful summer resident, well known in every garden, where, from 

 the tops of trees, from roofs, arid chimneys and lightning rods, 

 we hear his sweet lisping song, which at first is exceedingly 

 pleasant, but at length wearies the ear by its perpetual repeti- 

 tion throughout the summer day. The rich blue which gives 



