Hints to Audubon Workers. 



271 



dubon's life while with us. But I was too 

 young at the time, and as all of the older 

 members of my family have passed away, I 

 cannot collect such items as I might have 

 done some years since. The two [three] 

 crayons I beg you will accept." 



In describing the portrait of Audubon, I 

 said further in The Auk that "several months 

 after receiving this letter, Mrs. Walker came 

 to Fort Wingate to visit her daughter, and 

 to my great pleasure brought with her the 

 oil painting of Audubon she speaks of in 

 the letter just quoted. I hold this valued 

 little art treasure in my left hand as I pen 

 these words. It is a quaint and winning 



picture, painted on rather thin canvas, and 

 tacked to a rough, wooden frame, some 26 

 cms. by 31 cms., and evidently home-made. 

 But the hair, the eyes, the mouth, the nose 

 are Audubon's ! Not only that, but given 

 us by Audubon's hand, and that grand old 

 naturalist's face grows upon us as we look 

 into it. He wears an old-fashioned dark- 

 green coat, and a still more old-fashioned 

 neck-cloth and collar. The background is 

 filled in by rather a rosy-tinted sky, shading 

 off into a blue above." 



So much for this rare old portrait, and 

 so much for these precious and original 

 boy-drawings of Audubon. 



R. W. Shufeldt. 



HINTS TO AUDUBON WORKERS.* 



FIFTY COMMON BIRDS AND HOW TO KNOW THEM, 



RED-EYED VIREO. 



AMONG the songs that come through 

 the open window in summer, there 

 is one that I hear when the midday heat 

 has silenced all the others. It comes from 

 the upper branches of the trees about the 

 house, and is a preoccupied warble of three 

 loud, guttural notes, given with monotonous 

 variety. In rhythm it is something like 

 he-ha-ivha or ha-ha-wha, or, again, he-ha- 

 whip in rising inflection, and he-ha-ivhee in 

 falling cadence. If I go out and focus my 

 glass on the dull-colored bird moving along 

 over the branches inspecting the leaves 

 in a business-like way, it turns out an ex- 

 quisite little creature, tinted more deli- 

 cately than the waxwing, and having much 

 the same glossy look and elegant air. It 

 is a slender bird, about half as large as a 

 robin. Its back is olive, and its breast 

 white, of such tints that when the sunlight 

 is on the leaves it is well disguised, for its 

 back looks like the upper side of the leaf, 



* Copyright, 1887, by Florence A. Merriam. 



and its breast like the under side with the 

 sun on it. If the bird is considerate enough 

 to fly down into the lower branches; as it 

 turns its head to one side, I can make out 

 its ash-colored cap and the lines that bor- 

 der it — first a black one, then a white, and 

 below that, another black line, running 

 through the eye. If its search among the 

 lower branches has been successful, it runs 

 along a limb sidewise, holding its worm out 

 at bill's length, shaking it over the limb as 

 if afraid of dropping it before it is ready 

 to eat. 



But although one becomes attached to 

 the cheery bird that sings at its work from 

 morning till night, in park and common, as 

 well as about the country house, the best 

 way to know it is to follow one of the family 

 into the edge of the woods where it builds 

 its nest. Such an exquisite little work- 

 man as you discover it to be! It wonders 

 how the ovenbird can like to nest on the 

 damp ground, and how the redstart can 

 wedge its house into a crotch — how can 



