THE CITY OF THE BIRDS. 6 1 



voracious, wide-open mouths are upturned to 

 receive the insect morsels. 



Their necks are hardly strong enough yet to 

 support the large, heavy, shot-eyed heads, that, in 

 their strained, ill-balanced positions, wobble about 

 blindly for a moment, and then sink down in the 

 bottom of the nest, an exhausted and palpitating 

 mass. 



The male, that was so brave at first, is now not 

 seen — a mean, worthless fellow, thus to fly away 

 at the least sign of danger! Indeed, I believe 

 this ignoble trait is a characteristic of the vireo 

 husbands — very attentive in the honeymoon, to- 

 be-sure, but taking no part in the house-building, 

 and leaving the trial of incubation and the care 

 and support of the young entirely to the devoted 

 mothers. 



His near relative, the red-eyed vireo, is strongly 

 suspected of this irresponsible manner of getting 

 through the season. His low, contented pre ree, 

 pre re-o, pre r-e-e-e, high up in the branches of the 

 trees, is heard, as though he had not a thought 

 even of his hungry wife, now confined to her 

 eggs, down there in the willow. 



Within the cool shade of the hemlock wood, 

 where among the needle-leaved branches overhead 

 the light breezes play weird tunes, and through 

 the skylights moving shreds and blotches of sun- 

 light are here and there thrown on the moss- 



