NESTLINGS OF FOREST AND MARSH 
of crimson. At once I decided to keep 
track of him, if possible, and see him woo 
and win his mate. 
This proved to be an easy task, for he 
was no rover. When the more accomplished 
musicians, such as the catbird, thrasher, and 
thrush, arrived from the south, the black- 
birds retired to the marsh near the hotel, 
and with them went “ El Capitan,” as we 
had christened the white epaulets, and there 
we soon found him. 
His wooing was conducted with the same 
gay nonchalance that characterized all his ac- 
tions. With wings quivering and tail spread, 
he paraded before his little brown sweet- 
heart. She sat swinging on the wild rice, 
apparently entertained but not enamoured. 
He hovered gracefully over her, sat on a 
rush in front of her, and sang ‘‘ Konkaree” 
that sounded startlingly like Marry me ! ” 
But she would not. Was it because the 
white shoulders were not to her taste ? or did 
she fear the ridicule of the rest if she chose 
a mate with such outre coloring? While 
44 
