The Black-headed Grosbeaks 



Taken in Oregon 



Photo by Finley ^ Bohlman 



KEEPING A DINNER ENGAGEMENT 



springtime is with us still. How he gladdened those fresh hours! And 

 how he sang on, cheerful, melodious, content, until June had silenced 

 other singers of the lower levels. The Black-headed Grosbeak is a bird 

 beloved of Californians. Gentle, modest, unassuming, he moves about 

 with quiet dignity which proclaims his worth; and when he does consent 

 to be interviewed, the reporter is sure to wax enthusiastic over his some- 

 what bizarre beauty. For my part, I never hear those first mellow flut- 

 ings of springtime without being seized with a wild desire to see the singer, 

 and to quench the thirst of long abstinence by a satisfying vision of black 

 and white and ochraceous tawny. As a sporting proposition, too, I 

 always insist upon getting under the bird, so as to catch the flash of yellow 

 which his wings disclose in flight. Strange, is it not? that the most bril- 

 liant color in his mottled costume, yellow of spectrum purity, should lie 

 concealed under the singer's armpits! The female, too, boasts (or, 

 rather, she never boasts) yellow auxiliaries. Otherwise, her costume is the 

 palest possible replica of her lord's. Her blacks have become blackish, or 

 that nondescript color known to naturalists as "fuscous." Ochraceous 

 tawny has become cinnamon-buff, or pinkish buff. She parts her hair, 

 somewhat anxiously, in the middle; and her sides are plentifully streaked 

 with blackish, to break up the pattern and to deceive the eye. Only her 



42T 



