104 WASTE-LAND WANDERINGS. 



Not a redstart was seen except on the willows, and the 

 titmice and creepers singled out the scattered button- 

 woods. This was not for the moment only, but held 

 good for the while I tarried in the shade of these 

 growths. As they were all evidently busy insect-hunt- 

 ing, each found food, I suppose, peculiarly attractive to 

 itself, in the trees they frequented. 



I was somewhat surprised at the -variety and volume 

 of bird-music to be heard. The red-eyed vireo's throat 

 and wings were well-matched, and to decide wherein 

 was the greater activity would have been a difficult 

 matter. If the bird flew unusually fast, its notes were 

 always proportionately louder and more rapidly uttered. 

 The song is not melodious; yet when heard afar off, 

 with the bird hidden among the upper branches of the 

 trees, it is a pleasant sound, to say the least, and one sure 

 to lead us deeper and deeper into the woods ; for the 

 desire to see the birds that we chance to hear is well- 

 nigh irresistible. 



To-day there were hosts of summer warblers, active 

 as the trembling leaves, in their search for insects, but 

 save an occasional faint chirp, all were silent. On the 

 other hand, the Maryland yellow-throats and crested tits 

 were singing constantly. It is strange that so much dif- 

 ference should obtain, in this respect, among our song 

 birds. Now that nesting is over, many find next to 

 nothing to sing about. Can it be that their existence is 

 less joyful for the ten months of freedom than during 

 the two of their married life? Possibly we may get 

 from them a clew as to which birds are mated for life, 

 and which for a season. Is the fact that some birds sing 



