WARBLING VIREO. 293 
of House Wrens, a Summer Warbler, and now and then a Goldfinch. Though searching 
diligently I could not discover any other, until an enthusiastic lover of nature, a former 
school mate and now my assistant writer, Miss Hedwig Schlichting, called my attention 
to the WaRBLING VirEo, which chanted its sweet soliloquy in one of the maples near her 
home.. This was during the last days of May. The loud, incessant mellow warblings 
were poured forth, while the bird was searching among the dense foliage for insects. A 
few days later, when the majority had arrived from the South, the song resounded from 
all sides through the fresh, luxurious green in the streets of the finer parts of the city. 
Here its favorite trees are always the sugar maples and the tall, arching elms. Since 
my boyhood I have observed this familiar songster in the forest and ornamental trees 
of Wisconsin. Later I found it equally common in Illinois and Missouri. In New England 
and in all the Northern and Middle States it seems to be common everywhere, where 
large shade-trees are to be found. During the breeding season we may find this Vireo 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, and from the mountainous regions of the 
Southern States, north to the fur countries. I have never observed it in the Gulf region 
in summer, although the magnificent evergreen magnolias and the wide spreading live 
oaks would afford excellent haunts for this bird. Only on a few occasions I have seen it 
during the spring migration in south-eastern Texas. 
The tall trees in villages, towns, and even large cities, are the favorite haunts of 
the Warbling Vireo. In portions of the country, not cultivated, it is more or less com- 
mon along the wooded margins of creeks and streams and on the edges of the woods. 
No other ornithologist has presented us with such a true and beautiful sketch of the 
Warbling Vireo’s life and haunts as Dr. Elliott Coues. He writes as follows: 
“Warbling Greenlets, whether of the Eastern or of the Western type, inhabit all 
the woodland of temperate North America. But in choosing their summer homes they 
usually show good taste enough to seek the luxuries of city life, displaying at the same 
time the force of character required to escape its dangers. Neither disposed to undue 
familiarity, nor given to over-confidence, these urbane birds move in a quiet circle of their 
own, in slight contact with less polished members of society, quite apart from the 
vulgarity of the street and market place, and always with the easy self-possession that 
marks the well-bred. We seldom see them, indeed, they are oftener a voice than a 
visible presence—just a ripple of melody threading its way through the mazes of verdure, 
now almost absorbed in the sighing of foliage, now flowing released on its grateful 
mission. Their’s is a tender, gentle strain, with just a touch of sadness, borne on the 
same breath that wafts us the perfume of April’s early blossoms; and these are all the 
sweeter for the instillation of such song.. From the poplar that glances both silver and 
green as its tremulous verdure is stirred—from the grand old halls of the stately, 
splendid flowered liriodendron—from the canopied shade-weaving elm, and the redolent 
depths of magnolia—issues all summer long the same exquisite refrain, while the singers 
glide through their hermitage unseen. Who would know these spirituelle musicians 
better must be quick to catch a glimpse of a very small sober-colored bird whose tints 
are those of its leafy home, and whose course in the heart of the trees is as devious as 
the play of the sunbeam itself. 
“The Warbling Vireo is no less agile a bird than his cousin the Red-eye, and 
