40 
THE SCIENTIST. 
■ THE SCI 
The Maryland Yellow-Tliront. 
Out of the host of warblers that yearly 
visit us in the spring, en route for their 
summer breeding-grounds, only a very 
few make ibis the limit of their north- 
ern flight, and condecend to breed 
among us. 
Going into the woods in the latter 
part of May, after the iminenes tidal- 
wave of warblers has passed us by, we 
may rest assured that the warbler- 
voices we now may chance to hear, 
are the voices of those warblers which 
will remain with us for the season. 
Prominent among the utteaances of 
these resident warblers, as one enters 
the woods in the last days of May is 
the simple, pleasing ditty of the Yel- 
low Warbler, the more elaberate music 
of the Chesnut-side, the drowsy buzz- 
uzz-uzz of the Golden-winged War- 
bler, and strikingly in contrast to this 
last, the loud lackle-me, tackle-me lack- 
le-me of the Maryland Yellow-throat. 
These two last mentioned Warblers 
are most at home in low aud swampy 
regions, and here their respective songs, 
so strikingly in contrast to each other, 
and so in keeping with the swampy 
surroundings, may be heard thoughout 
the day :-the Golden-wing's so full of 
drowsiness as to indicate that the sing- 
er is just on the verge of falling to 
sleep, and the Yellow-throat’s so loud 
and full of spirit and activity as 
though the singer had but one end to ac- 
complish. and that to keep the Golden- 
wing awake. 
Particularly is the swamp and the 
marsh the home of the Maryland Yel- 
low-throat, you scarcely And him else- 
where. Lot him And a swampy, 
boggy, peat-bed, abounding in stag- 
nant pools and moquiLoes, and ho is in 
his element. 
I was wandering about ju>t such a 
marshy region as this one morning at 
five o'clock in search for nests of any 
kind, wheu I found my first nest of 
Olevthlypis. It was in the lasl week 
of May aud 1 had come out from town 
at 4.30 A. M. on my bicycle, to see 
what the recesses of this swamp aud 
adjacent woods might reveal. 
Water was on every hand and 1 
chose the higher, grassy elevations 
along which to pursue my way. 
1 had just leaped over a fence, and 
landed, both feet in a ditch of water 
up to my hips, filling my rubber boots 
to the overflow point; and chiding my 
luck, I was turning my water-soaked 
footsteps toward the highway, when, 
aba, a tiny, pink-footed creature, slip- 
ped out from a tussock of grass at the 
base of a little bush, a tew yards 
from me. and flitted into the adjacent 
shrubbery. 
Now, contrary to the custom in 
vogue among most '-ollectors writ- 
ing about their adventures I am not 
going to relate how *‘I flew to the 
spot” and ‘-examined every inch of 
ground” “in every direction" and 
‘•finally found the nest” which con- 
tained five of “the most beautiful eggs 
of this species that I had ever seen. ’ 
No, nothing of the kiud. 1 merely 
found the nest;whether it were an 
easy or a difficult task it matters not.- 
and in the nest were five eggs of the 
Maryland Yellow-throat (for such the 
nest proved to be), and although the 
eggs are perfect gems of beauty, I 
have not the slightest doubt that there 
are hundreds of sets of eggs of this 
species in other collections just as 
pretty, and doubtless, some more so, 
than this. 
t now have in my collection, a nest 
eggs, and female bird, a prettv com- 
bination surely, but some way the 
nest arid eggs do not look nearly so 
well as when lucked away in that tus- 
sock of grass nt the foot of that little 
bush, shielded above by overhanging 
grasses, and dampened and cooled be- 
neath by tiie nearness of the water, 
which had fairly soaked the nest. 
And someway the form of the mother, 
bird is not, by far, so pert, nor does 
1 he golden tinting of tier glittering 
throat, glow with half the warmth it 
did when its possessor was flittingner- 
vously about tier boggy home to see 
why come f there. 
And where is he, her partner? Per- 
haps. e'en now, 'mid the bogs and 
quagmires of some, southern clime, he 
is mourning the fate of his sweet 
young bride, his mask of black most 
appropriate- to his mourning morning. 
But never mind, my sorrowing mi- 
grant, be aware of this much, thy 
pretty bride and treasures five have 
not fallen into unsyrapathyzing and 
thoughtless hands. No, never, e’en 
while I took them, I felt the meaning 
of it all. And know, ye this, that by 
the takingof them, the captor has been 
taught much of Dame Nature that he 
did uot know before; and who knows, 
but in learning more of Nature. ho has 
been drawn nearer Nature's God. 
And so, cheered by these thoughts, 
can you not, my golden-throat, find, 
courage to sing with unfaltering lips 
once more, that beautiful ditty of thine 
and may not those northern wilds, now 
desolate with winter’s frost, be enliv- 
ened and inspired again in the spring 
by thine - cncourageing weech a-tee , 
weech-a-tee, weech-a-tee ? 
Njeii. Franklin Posson, Medina, N.Y. 
7 $ 
