The Black-headed Grosbeak 165 
in dress and song. I loved to watch the male that lived in the clump of maples. 
He used to perch at the very top of a fir sapling near the nest, to stretch his 
wings and preen his tail, as if he knew his clothes were made for show. Early 
in the morning he showed the quality of his singing; later in the day it often 
lacked finish. The tones sounded hard to get out, as if he were practising,— 
just running over the notes of an air that hung dim in his memory. But it 
was pleasing to hear his practice. The atmosphere was too lazy for perfect 
execution. 
FEMALE BLACK-HEADED GROSBEAK AND YOUNG 
Photographed by H. T. Bohlman 
We had a good chance to study and photograph a pair 
of Black-headed Grosbeaks that nested near my home. We 
were soon on such intimate terms with both birds that we could 
watch them at close range. Nature has given the Grosbeak a large and power- 
ful bill, to crack seeds and hard kernels. It seemed to me this would be an 
inconvenience when it came to feeding children. If it was, the parents did 
not show it. The mother would cock her head to one side, so that her baby 
could easily grasp the morsel, and it was all so quickly done that only the 
camera’s eye could catch the way she did it. She slipped her bill clear into 
the youngster’s mouth, and he took the bite as hurriedly as if he were afraid 
the mother would change her mind and give it to the next baby. 
The parents fed their nestlings a diet of both fruit and insects. Once I 
saw the father distribute a whole mouthful of green measuring-worms. The 
Getting 
Acquainted 
