A MINSTREL OF THE MARSHES 
the yellow-heads have the color in their 
wings, and this with his marked individuality 
singled him out from the crowd. He sat 
swaying and swinging on the rushes, not a 
Home of yellow-headed blackbird 
whit disconcerted by our approach, watching 
the boat glide nearer and nearer, watching 
also the camera as it was focussed and 
snapped, never ceasing his song or changing 
his attitude. 
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