BROWSINGS IN OTHER FIELDS. 235 



perch to perch ! But the rain did not descend 

 rapidly enough for several of them ; and so, in order 

 to drench their plumage more thoroughly, they 

 plunged into the leafy bushes growing in their apart- 

 ment, and crept about over and through the sprinkled 

 foliage until their feathers were well rinsed. 



An interesting bird was the yellow-headed black- 

 bird, which is a resident of some of our Western 

 States, but which does not deign even to visit my 

 neighborhood. His whole head and neck are 

 brilliant yellow, as if he had plunged up to his 

 shoulders in a keg of yellow paint, while the rest of 

 his attire is shiny black. He utters a loud, shrill 

 whistle, quite unlike any sound produced by his 

 kinsmen, the crow blackbird and the red-wing. He 

 seemed to feel quite at home in his cage with several 

 other species of birds. 



Many a time I have thought I heard a tumult of 

 bird song in the fields or woods, but at the Zoo I 

 was greeted with a perfect din from the throats of 

 more than two dozen indigo-birds, all singing simul- 

 taneously. They simply drowned out every other 

 sound in the neighborhood when they chimed in 

 the chorus. Even the goldfinch, doing his level 

 best, could not be heard until there was a lull in 

 the shriller music. In the same enclosure were the 

 bluebirds and robins. My pity went out to one of 

 the robins, which was trying to build a nest, but 

 could not find a proper site nor the right kind of 

 material. She would pick up a bunch of fibres and 

 strings from the ground, fling them on the window- 



