YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT. 259 
ARNE SA 7 mts on RR ee 
western Missouri especially conimon. The basket-vines!, black haws, blackberry 
bushes, white-thorns, etc., on the woodland border are the favorite haunts of 
this exquisite and peculiar songster. It is a bird uniting beauty, song, and some 
very strange peculiarities. It is truly a comical creature, a pronounced odd fellow 
among the feathered inhabitants of bush and brier. In certain localities the Chat is an 
abundant bird and well known to every admirer of nature’s realms. It is prized for its 
beauty, the variability and peculiarity of its notes, and its extremely odd manners and 
habits. 
Instead of jotting down my own observations of this bird, I prefer to quote from 
several excellent authorities. Dr. J. M. Wheaton gives the following interesting account :* 
“Very common summer resident; abundant in the southern, not very common in 
the northern portions of the State. Arrives in middle Ohio about May 1, and remains 
until the last of August. 
“When migrating no bird is more shy and retiring than the Chat. They skulk 
along silently in thickets along the banks of streams, or on the edges of upland woods. 
But no sooner has pairing been effected, than their whole nature seems changed, and 
the silent bird becomes the noisiest of the woods. His shyness gives way to an audacity 
which is surprising. If he discovers the approach of a human being, even at a consider- 
able distance, he prepares to resent the intrusion; and giving three short, loud whistles, 
very low in tone, as a warning, he advances toward him, all the while careful that he 
should be heard and not seen. Then follows a medley of sputtering, cackling, whisper- 
ing, and scolding notes, frequently interspersed with loud whistles, and continued as the 
bird runs, hops, or flies in the deepest thicket, with a pertinacity which knows no 
fatigue. He tells you that your gun won't shoot, that it is a flint-lock, that your 
ram-rod is broken, that you shot it at a buzzard, that you haven’t got a gun; that 
you are a bald-headed cripple; that there is a horrid suicide in the bushes, and a big 
snake and a nasty skunk; that your baby is crying, your house is afire and the bridge 
broken down; that you have missed the road to the reform farm, and that the poor 
house is over the creek, and he calls the dogs; says that you have gone to seed; go 
west and grow up with the country; that you are taking up too much of his valuable 
time, that you must excuse him for a moment. During all this time he remains invisible; 
or at most, his black eye and mask, or golden breast, appear for a moment as he peers 
at you from the tangled branches of the brambles, or flashes from branch to branch, 
dancing an accompaniment to his fantastic notes. At the last, he suddenly appears on 
the top of a bush not ten feet from you, makes a profound bow, and with a derisive 
whisk of his long tail, exposes his immaculate white crissum and dives again into the 
deepest thicket. You take a long breath and wipe your face, and he returns to the 
assault from the rear. Should you move on, he follows, and if you approach, he retires, 
and, keeping at a respectful distarice, he laughs defiance, shouts mockery and tantalizing 
sarcasm. He is a fearful scold, and it is no wonder the inside of his mouth is black. 
But this is when he knows he has the advantage. Sometimes he may be surprised as 
he sings in the upper branches of a tree. He then sits motionless, continuing his song 
4 
1 Symphoricarpus glomeratus. 
* Geological Survey of Ohio. Vol. IV, Part I. Zoology, p. 277—278, 
