22 PROCEEDINGS OP THE 



hepatica or earliest arbutus. This is one of the very few places 

 on the northern edge of the city where the Worm-eating Warbler 

 may be found, but it now appears to breed here regularly. Its 

 history hereabout is identical with that of the Kentucky 

 Warbler, though it has not yet become so abundant. I never 

 knew the bird in this immediate region until recent years, 

 although in my boyhood it was common enough in the valleys 

 lying just south of Philadelphia. Thus it appears that within 

 the last thirty years our valley has lost the Rough-winged and 

 White-bellied Swallows as breeding birds and gained the Ken- 

 tucky and Worm-eating Warblers. 



I do not know why the Rose-breasted Grosbeak should show 

 such special preference for this bit of woodland through which 

 we have been passing, but during the spring migrations I seem 

 to meet with it here much more frequently than elsewhere. 

 There is a certain group of fine oaks just on the edge of the 

 wood. When their leaves are the size of squirrels' ears and dainty 

 catkins hang trembling on every twig, then is the time one is 

 most apt to catch the gleam of the stately Rosebreasts moving 

 among the upper branches against the warm spring sky, though 

 it may be a mere coincidence with no significance whatever that 

 I should see this lovely bird so much oftener in this particular 

 grove than elsewhere. This wood is a favorite haunt of the 

 Ovenbird. I have several times found his kennel-like nest 

 along the hillsides, and all day long in summer his lilting note 

 rings high and clear among the leafy aisles. The Wood Thrush 

 also is here heard at his best. In the early spring it is a favorite 

 breeding ground of the Crow. A few years ago I found here a 

 Cooper's Hawk nest and an old resident has told me that when 

 he was a young man, a small colony of Night Herons nested in 

 this wood. 



Circling around a half-stagnant little pond, from which a Green 

 Heron springs with dangling, yellow legs and ungainly flight, we 

 turn back on our course and ere long come again into the valley 

 of the Tacony. There is still a mile of splendid bird-walk 

 ahead of us. There is meadow and marsh, thicket and wood- 

 land, steep stream banks, pebbly shores and jutting rocks. 

 There are ripples and rapids and quiet pools, and the varied 

 bird-life that goes with these changing conditions. 



