Green, Greenish Gray, Olive, and Yellowish Olive Birds 
A trifle larger than the golden-crowned kinglet, with a ver- 
milion crest instead of a yellow and flame one, and with a decided 
preference for a warmer winter climate, and the ruby-crown’s chief 
distinguishing characteristics are told. These rather confusing 
relatives would be less puzzling if it were the habit of either to 
keep quiet long enough to focus the opera-glasses on their 
crowns, which it only rarely is while some particularly promising 
haunt of insects that lurk beneath the rough bark of the ever- 
greens has to be thoroughly explored. At all other times both 
kinglets keep up an incessant fluttering and twinkling among 
the twigs and leaves at the ends of the branches, jerking their 
tiny bodies from twig to twig in the shrubbery, hanging head 
downward, like a nuthatch, and most industriously feeding every 
second upon the tiny insects and larve hidden beneath the bark 
and leaves. They seem to be the feathered expression of perpet- 
ual motion. And how dainty and charming these tiny sprites 
are! They are not at all shy; you may approach them quite 
close if you will, for the birds are simply too intent on their busi- 
ness to be concerned with yours. 
If a sharp lookout be kept for these ruby-crowned migrants, 
that too often slip away to the south before we know they have 
come, we notice that they appear about a fortnight ahead of the 
golden-crested species, since the mild, soft air of our Indian sum- 
mer is exactly to their liking. At this season there is nothing in 
the bird’s ‘‘thin, metallic call-note, like a vibrating wire,” to 
indicate that he is one of our finest songsters. But listen for him 
during the spring migration, when a love-song is already ripen- 
ing in his tiny throat. What a volume of rich, lyrical melody 
pours from the Norway spruce, where the little musician is simply 
practising to perfect the richer, fuller song that he sings to his 
nesting mate in the far north! The volume is really tremendous, 
coming from so tiny a throat. Those who have heard it in 
northern Canada describe it as a flute-like and mellow warble 
full of intricate phrases past the imitating. Dr. Coues says of it: 
‘« The kinglet’s exquisite vocalization defies description.” 
Curiously enough, the nest of this bird, that is not at all rare, 
has been discovered only six times. It would appear to be over- 
large for the tiny bird, until we remember that kinglets are wont 
to have a numerous progeny in their pensile, globular home. It 
is made of light, flimsy material—moss, strips of bark, and plant- 
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