Il6 WOOD NOTES AND NEST HUNTING. 



remorse of gazing into the deserted home from 

 which the songs, confined in their little round 

 prisons, were never to be set free. 



The streams and swamps offer more attractive 

 entertainment, at this season, than the dry uplands. 

 Every bird in the vicinity comes here to slake its 

 thirst and bathe. Here is a merry skating carnival 

 of gerris, and a larger party of whirligig water- 

 beetles dodging about in every direction, but never 

 appearing to collide, as they pounce upon the 

 drowning flies, or the twisting, jerking larvae of 

 the gnat. Down through the thick alders and 

 overhanging sprays of samhucus the red-eyed vireo 

 flits from water to twig and from twig to water, 

 striking it with her wings, and sipping it as she 

 flutters over the stream. I am inclined to believe 

 that this may be the manner in which all birds be- 

 longing to this group perform their ablutions and 

 quench their thirst. They are not groundlings, 

 and shun the earth as the swallows do the foliage. 



Following the line of flight with the glass, up 

 to an overhanging branch of the willow, the object 

 lens rests accidently on the nearly-finished nest 

 with the builder just arrived. I hardly dare to 

 breathe, as I see her red eye dilate with alarm, and 

 the quick turning of the head in every direction. 



