WARBLING VIREO. l8l 



This sweetest and most constant warbler of the forest, ex- 

 tending his northern migrations to the confines of Canada and 

 along the coast of the Pacific to the Oregon, arrives from trop- 

 ical America in Pennsylvania about the middle of April, and 

 reaches this part of New England early in May. His livery, 

 like that of the Nightingale, is plain and unadorned ; but the 

 sweet melody of his voice, — surpassing, as far as Nature usually 

 surpasses art, the tenderest airs of the flute, — poured out often 

 from the rising dawn of day to the approach of evening, and 

 vigorous even during the sultry heat of noon, when most other 

 birds are still, gives additional interest to this little vocalist. 

 While chanting forth his easy, flowing, tender airs, apparently 

 without effort, so contrasted with the interrupted emphatical 

 song of the Red- Eye, he is gliding along the thick and leafy 

 branches of our majestic elms and tallest trees busied in quest 

 of his restless insect prey. . With us, as in Pennsylvania, the 

 species is almost wholly confined to our villages, and even 

 cities. It is rarely ever observed in the woods ; but from the 

 tall trees which decorate the streets and lanes, the almost in- 

 visible musician, secured from the enemies of the forest, is 

 heard to cheer the house and cottage with his untiring song. 

 As late as the 2d of October I still distinguished his tuneful voice 

 from amidst the yellow fading leaves of the linden, near which 

 he had passed away the summer. The approaching dissolu- 

 tion of those delightful connections which had been cemented 

 by aifection and the cheerless stillness of autumn, still called 

 up a feeble and plaintive revery. Some days after this late 

 period, warmed by the mild rays of the morning sun, I heard, 

 as it were, faintly warbled, a parting whisper ; and ' about the 

 middle of this month our vocal woods and fields were once 

 more left in dreary silence. 



When offended or irritated, our bird utters an angry ^tshay 

 Ushay, like the Catbird and the other Vireos, and sometimes 

 makes a loud snapping with his bill. The nest of the Warbling 

 Vireo is generally pendulous, and ambitiously and securely sus- 

 pended at great elevations. In our elms I have seen one of 

 these airy cradles at the very summit of one of the most gigan- 



