142 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



instant, when he saw me, his red cap vanished, and the party dispersed. 

 It is a curious thing how seldom the Ruby-crowned Kinglet will show 

 his red patch; usually the olive feathers cover it. Then I heard one of 

 the most marvelous of bird songs, and not until I had discovered the 

 singer, a plain Ruby-crown, did I believe him capable of such a sur- 

 passingly sweet, and yet loud, song. With the Ruby-crowns were a 

 number of Tufted Titmice. I heard their usual notes, "day-day-day- 

 day," much like the chickadees, but louder and somewhat nasal. Oc- 

 casionally one would recall his whistled "pets-pets," which indeed, to 

 one who knows and loves the chickadee, is more suiting to the Tufted 

 Tit than his bad imitation. Another call from the woods attracted my 

 attention, a slight lisping note. Doubtful of its owner, I hunted him 

 up and soon came upon a party of Cedarbirds. As I looked at the big 

 brown fellows, with their crests and dots of red, they seemed to me ex- 

 ceedingly handsome and dignified. While walking on, I heard a 

 hoarse "caw-caw," and looking up saw a Crow circling about. He 

 seemed interested, and I tried to communicate with him by an answer- 

 ing "caw," then I sat down on a stump, and answered him again. His 

 curiosity go the better of him for once, for he circled lower and lower, 

 and finally lit on a branch of the tall tree underneath which I sat. The 

 conversation was kept up, but he made no further advances. Soon 

 another crow happened along, and with a parting "caw" the one in the 

 tree joined him. Away they went, with their beautiful glossy black 

 wings showing against the azure sky. I could not help wondering how 

 such a body was fed throughout the long, cold winter when the ground 

 was frozen, or when a few inches of snow covered the earth. 



"Tap-tap-tap," and then a sharp "peek" — I looked up and saw a 

 Hairy Woodpecker, He did not seem disturbed by my presence; on 

 the contrary, he went on tapping the branches most unconcernedly. I 

 watched him for awhile, when I was rather startled by the whirr-r of a 

 Flicker that suddenly flew from a clear spot inside a fence, showing to 

 advantage his golden wings and white rump. Walking to the place 

 whence he had flown, I found a rather disturbed ant-hill — Sir Flicker 

 had been making a quiet breakfast on a swarm of black ants. 



In a wooded dale with a small stream flowing down the slope over 

 the rocks, I saw a pair of Cardinals — the male, with his brilliant red 

 body, wings and crest, and the female, with her olive-brown body with 

 sparsely distributed red. They were in a low bush when I discovered 

 them, but in a moment, with a sharp "tsip" they had made a circuit and 

 reached the high branches of a tree near by. Then I heard the song — 

 a beautiful loud, rich whistle, suggestive of the bluebird's but louder 

 and clearer. 



