58 
BLUE BIRD. 
dishes, and many other fruits and seeds which I have found in 
their stomachs at that season, which, being no botanist, I am 
unable to particularize. They are frequently pestered with a 
species of tape worm, some of which I have taken from their 
intestines of an extraordinary size, and, in some cases, in great 
numbers. Most other birds are also plagued with these 
vermin, but the Blue Bird seems more subject to them than any 
I know, except the Woodcock. An account of the different 
species of vermin, many of which, I doubt not, are non- 
descripts, that infest the plumage and intestines of our birds, 
would of itself form an interesting publication ; but, as this 
belongs more properly to the entomologist, I shall only, in 
the course of this work, take notice of some of the most 
remarkable ; and occasionally represent them on the same 
plate with those birds upon which they are usually found. 
The usual spring and summer song of the Blue Bird is a soft, 
agreeable, and oft-repeated warble, uttered with open quivering 
■wings, and is extremely pleasing. In his motions and general 
character, he has great resemblance to the Robin Redbreast of 
Britain ; and, had he the brown olive of that bird, instead of 
his own blue, could scarcely be distinguished from him. Like 
him, he is known to almost every child ; and shews as much 
confidence in man by associating with him in summer, as the 
other by his familiarity in winter. He is also of a mild and 
peaceful disposition, seldom fighting or quarreling with other 
birds. His society is courted by the inhabitants of the country, 
and few farmers neglect to provide for him, in some suitable 
place, a snug little summer-house, ready fitted and rent free. 
For this he more than sufficiently repays them by the cheer- 
fulness of his song, and the multitude of injurious insects 
which he daily destroys. Towards fall, that is, in the month 
of October, his song changes to a single plaintive note, as he 
passes over the yellow many-coloured woods ; and its melan- 
choly air recalls to our minds the approaching decay of the 
face of nature. Even after the trees are stript of their leaves, 
he still lingers over his native fields, as if loth to leave them. 
About the middle or end of November, few or none of them 
