2o6 



Bird - Lore 



lecting cotton, with which it flew to the 

 orchard. 



I knew it for a Vireo, but was not sure 

 which species it was, and did not stop to 

 look at my book, but was out of the house 

 and in pursuit, just in time to see the bird 

 light in the remotest tree in the orchard. 

 On walking about this tree, I came directly 

 to the nest, scarcely five feet from the 

 ground, practically completed, firmly 

 laced to a forking branch, semi-pensile. 

 It was a very dainty affair of pine needles, 

 dried grass, lichens, cast off spider cocoons, 

 bits of newpaper, shreds of birch bark and 

 an occasional string and bit of cotton. 



I was not si-u-e which Vireo it was, but 

 was surprised to find the nest so low. 

 With the purpose of determining, I went, 

 a day of two later, to look at the egg I 

 thought might be there. It was toward 

 early evening and I walked straight up to 

 the nest with no idea of the bird's being 

 on it. When within a few inches of it, she 

 flew off but did not leave the tree. I 

 hastily examined the two white eggs, 

 speckled chiefly at the larger end, and left. 

 I visited her several times on succeeding 

 days, always finding the bird on the nest, 

 where she remained though I stood close 

 to her. The most noticeable thing to me 

 was the red iris. One day I recalled Brad- 

 ford Torrey's delightful account of a Wood- 

 land Intimate, or the feeding of a solitary 

 Vireo, and it flashed over me that I could 

 perhaps feed this Red-eye, since she was 

 so confiding that she had never left the 

 nest on my account except the first time. 

 I hastily caught a small, succulent green 

 grasshopper and slowly, cautiously, ad- 

 vanced my hand till the grasshopper was 

 within easy reach of the bird. The male 

 kept up a constant scolding in the top of 

 the apple tree containing the nest, while 

 I stood trying to win his wife's confidence. 

 It seemed many a weary minute that she 

 sat motionless or with a slight suspicion of 

 fear in her little red eye, cowering closer 

 to the eggs. Then, just as my hand ached 

 intolerably and I was about to withdraw 

 it, she made a slow movement of the head 

 towards me — and hastily snatched the 

 grasshopper. I was delighted and praised 



her audibly for her discrimination and 

 confidence. She devoured several more 

 grasshoppers very readily, once the ice 

 was broken. The male bird all the time 

 seemed anxious and kept up a continual 

 scolding. I made visits once or twice 

 daily thereafter, and she was perfectly 

 fearless about taking food, eagerly accep- 

 ing small flies and grasshoppers, invariably 

 refusing worms, and showing a preference 

 for grasshoppers. 



She would allow me to stroke her, close 

 my hand about her, almost lift her from 

 the eggs, reach under her, etc. Once or 

 twice she left the nest and flew at her mate 

 when he was making demonstrations of 

 fear and distress, knocked him smartly off 

 his perch, snapping her bill and scolding 

 vigorously, then took her place again on 

 the eggs. It was exactly as if she told him 

 that she would not be interfered with and 

 that he could attend to his own affairs. 



Day after day I visited her during the 

 all too brief sitting, occasionally taking 

 one or more companions, when my pride 

 was hurt by her accepting food just as 

 readily from others. 



Not to be outdone by Torrey, I gave 

 her water to drink from a silver spoon, 

 and she drank readil}^, but seemed alarmed 

 when her beak struck the spoon, half rose, 

 uttering a low, anxious note. When she 

 had had enough, she would turn her head 

 away, utterly ignoring me, but could 

 sometimes be prevailed on to take one 

 more drink or grasshopper, if touched 

 lightly on the beak. 



One day, after several days' absence, I 

 found two uncouth little fledglings — where 

 were the other two? There had been four 

 eggs. I suspected that some Crows might 

 have breakfasted off them, as a pair of 

 robber Crows had devoured the contents 

 of a Robin's nest nearer the house that 

 week. 



The parents were feeding them, and, to 

 my disappointment, the mother paid no 

 attention to me, coming and going as if I 

 were not in sight, and never again, with 

 one exception, while she was brooding the 

 young, did I have the pleasure of feeding 

 her. When the young were about ten 



