264 
Dwight, The Philadelphia Vireo. 
fAuk 
Ljuly 
within earshot, rush to the scene, take a hand in the chorus and 
having expressed their opinions discreetly retire. Very often a 
Philadelphia Vireo, seldom two, will join in the rumpus for a little 
while but they soon slip away satisfied, leaving the White-throats 
as boisterous as ever in their denunciations. 
It is impossible not to be struck with the close resemblance 
between the Philadelphias and the Recl-eyes in appearance, actions, 
and habits, as well as in song. Both frequent the same localities 
in the wilderness, but the Philadelphias rather shun civilization 
and rarely appear, like the Red-eyes, in the village trees. Both 
prefer to sing in the upper branches, but I have seldom found the 
Philadelphias in the rambling groves of birches which are the 
especial delight of the Red-eyes, and they are more partial to the 
low, bushy, second growth or copses of alders sprinkled with 
stray trees. Both hop from bough to bough in search of food, 
singing as they go, and in actions the one is almost the coun- 
terpart of the other, save that the smaller bodied Philadelphias 
are quicker in their movements as contrasted with the lazy leisure 
of the Red-eyes. Another point of difference is in the amount of 
curiosity displayed, the Philadelphias exhibiting comparatively 
little while the Red-eyes, fairly brimming over with it, never fail 
to seek the reason for unusual sights or sounds. The Philadel- 
phia’s song is much slower than that of the Red-eye, while his 
scolding notes are much more rapid and less evenly delivered. 
There would seem to be a streak of ill-temper in the mental com- 
position of this little Vireo, which manifests itself in brief out- 
breaks of scolding. These notes are even interjected into the 
song, and also greet you unexpectedly in the woods, as if you had 
disturbed nest or young, but many of these rude birds turn out to be 
males and can never be found a second time in the same locality. 
The fact is, unless they are in full song, it is no easy matter to 
find them in the same neighborhood two days in succession, for 
the bushes are very thick and afford safe cover. In fine weather 
their pleasing music may be heard from daybreak till midday, and 
again in the afternoon, but when it is dull and rainy or hot they 
often remain perfectly silent. While the female is incubating, her 
mate will spend hours in song, choosing an elevated perch or 
roving about, high and low, singing as he goes. Later in the 
