vol. vir 
Notes on the Bohemian Waxwing 
BY REV. S. II. GOODWIN 
I T is the lamented Frank Bolles, I think, who has somewhere called attention to 
the resemblances that may be traced between birds and men. Among our 
feathered kin-folk he finds the farmer, the artizan, the mariner, the fisherman, 
the preacher, the auctioneer, the dancing-master, the confidence-man, the pick- 
pocket, the scoundrel, and others whose habits or modes of life afford a suggestive, 
if somewhat fanciful means of classification. Cedar birds on account of the mili- 
tary precision with which their companies and battalions execute certain maneu- 
vers, find their counterpart in the gay soldiery of the parade ground. Doubtless 
the writer referred to would include in the dashing cohorts of this division, the 
cedar bird’s more distinguished and interesting cousin, the Bohemian waxwing 
( Ampelis garrulus). If, however, we are to take into account some of the chief 
characteristics of this bird it will not be difficult more fittingly to place him in a 
list of “representative birds.” His trim, neat, well-dressed figure, his pleasing, 
dignified bearing, his gentle peace-loving disposition, his gracious, courtly manners 
and other admirable traits of character leave no room for doubt concerning the 
class he represents. He stands for the well-bred, cultured, considerate man — the 
man of large nature, noble instincts, and high ideals — he is the “gentleman in 
feathers.” 
In appearance, the Bohemian waxwing is decidedly prepossessing. He is 
always faultlessly attired, the prevailing colors of his suit being quiet shades of 
brown and gray, relieved by a few deft touches of brighter hues. Especially dainty 
are the small, wax-like dots which form a narrow sash of scarlet across each wing, 
this being succeeded by a bar of white, and that by one of yellow. The tail, 
above, shades from a delicate steel blue, through black, and is terminated by a 
broader band of yellow. The crest, accentuated by the black bridle at its base, 
which passes through the eye and meets on the upper portion of the head, gives 
a distinguished air to this bird. The voice of our “gentleman in feathers” is in 
perfect accord with his appearance and character. There is nothing harsh or bois- 
terous in his notes; he does not shout to attract the attention of the neighborhood, 
but, like all gentle folk, expresses his feelings and opinions in quiet, well-modu- 
lated tones. To me there is something peculiarly pleasing and sweet in this wax- 
wing’s notes, due, largely, to what may be termed their elusive quality. When 
the bird is quite near its call sometimes sounds 
“Far off and faint, and melting into air. 
Yet not to be mistaken.” 
As the first part of their name indicates, the movements of these birds are not 
easy to forecast. A flock will appear in a given locality during a certain season, 
remain till the food supply is exhausted, or some instinct of their vagrant nature 
bids them move on, when they will disappear — possibly not to return for several 
years — without any formal leave-taking, and with no member of the company left 
behind to explain the abruptness of their departure, or to inform waiting friends 
of their whereabouts. So far as I am aware, this is the only trait which is not in 
perlect accord with the “character” I have given them, and for this the waxwings 
are not responsible; their movements are determined by a law — “a migration mem- 
ory,” according to Maurice Thompson — to which these birds have been subject 
through countless generations. 
The Bohemian waxwings come into this part of Utah (Provo, Utah Co.) early 
in December and remain till the last of March, and first week of April. When they 
first arrive, they usually remain in the tops of the tallest poplars that line our city 
