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BED-EYED VIIIEO. 79 



fastened by the entire upper rim, and it is so securely fastened and 

 so firmly made that the winter storins make little imi)ressi()n upon 

 it, one nost often serving a pair of hirds for two seasons -tlio same 

 pair of birds, for they return to the nesting site year after year. 

 The materials used are vegetable fibres of any sort — anything 

 woavable that happens in the way of the builders. The exterior is 

 rather roughly finished, but the lining, which is usually of fine grass, 

 is neatly laid. The nost is generally, though not invariably, placed 

 in an tipper or middle branch of a deciduous tree standing near 

 the margin of a grove or in a viUage street. The eggs, three to five 

 in number, are white, with a faint roseate blush and sparingly 

 marked with spots of brown. 



The vireos spend the summer with us, reaching our southern 

 border early in May, and retiring southward as soon as their insect 

 food is driven to close cover by frosty nights. They are slim and 

 delicately formed birds, but little larger and no more robust than 

 the average warbler, so do not appear fitted to stand a low tem- 

 perature, though I once met with one in New Brunswick in mid- 

 winter. I have told elsewhere the story of this meeting, but I will 

 venture to repeat it : — / 



One frosty morning, so frosty that I had to rub ears and nose to 

 keep from freezing, I happened on a robin apparently overcome 

 with the misery of his condition — cold, hungry and alone. I tried 

 to whistle up his courage, but my efforts were in vain ; he was 

 utterly wretched and past all recuperation. He could not bo 

 aroused, and was perched too high on a tree to be caught. 

 While I was calculating on his chances of living down his woe — 

 or living through it — I heard the voice of another bird, the 

 unmistakable whistle of a red -eyed vireo. Robin heard it also, and 

 at once all appearance of wretchedness left him. The vireo was 

 none of his clan, nor even an old pal of his — the robins have no 

 dealings with the vireos on summer days. They were mereiy com- 

 panions in misery, but that sufficed to make them friends. Call 

 after call rang out on the crisp air, and then they flew toward each 

 other and finally settled upon the same branch, side by side as 

 close as two birds can sit. The sun was just appearing from behind 

 an eastern hill, and the birds turned their heads toward him as ho 

 rose, and burst into song. _ , . ^^^, . , , ., ^. ._ ._ ^^ .„_.,. 



