AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 143 



Near this spot I came upon a White-breasted Nuthatch, who with a 

 persistent "yank, yank," mounted a slender trunk, deeply interested in 

 examining the bark. Suddenly he stopped, looked at me in a calm, 

 inquiring way and apparently satisfied, unconcernedly recommenced his 

 climbing, up, up, then he stopped for a longer time than usual, no 

 doubt to extract some larvae or insects eggs. I need only mention 

 a few of the other birds I saw that day; there were juncos, winter 

 wrens, brown creepers, chipping, vesper, tree, and song sparrows. 

 Towhees I found in large numbers, and their familiar calls filled the 

 woods, In a damp, wooded valley with a mossy stream flowing 

 through it, I saw a Louisiana Water Thrush, and heard his wild wood- 

 land song, that seemed so perfectly to harmonize with the surroundings. 



Later in the month, when the weather is more settled and insects 

 begin to abound, more insectivorous birds are to be seen. The Red- 

 eyed Vireos arrive in time to defend the tender leaves and buds. The 

 Swallows — Barn, Bank, and White-bellied come in great numbers and 

 put a check on the flying insects and a few warblers put in their ap- 

 pearance, notably the Black-throated Blue, Pine, Black and White, and 

 the Redstart norman o. foerster 



SNOW BIRD'S SONG. 



It was a beautiful day in February, and while the ground was covered 

 with snow and ice to the depth of several inches, yet the weather was 

 mild and all the bird residents were active and enjoying the bright sun- 

 shine. While passing through a wood, I came upon a small flock of 

 Juncos. On near approach most of them flew away; one fat little fel- 

 low, however, remained perched in a low bush where he received the 

 full beneflt of the warm sun. Presently a series of sweet warbling 

 notes fell upon my ear and I looked all around to see from whence they 

 came, but I could discover no bird near. On watching my little Junco 

 more closely I found that he was responsible for the music. I plainly 

 saw his little bosom rise and fall as he gave vent to some of the lovli- 

 est bird notes I have had the pleasure of hearing. The notes were 

 low and subdued, yet there was a sweetness and charm about them that 

 would captivate any bird lover. I can only compare the song with the 

 first low notes of the Goldfinch or our domestic Canary. The Song 

 Sparrows were also singing joyously in the meadows, and a Downy 

 Woodpecker was hammering away in the top of a dead tree in the woods; 

 it seemed as though these little feathered people were conscious that 

 Spring was again approaching and that they would soon be joined by 

 their southern comrades. Berton mercer. 



