258 
NATURE’S CRAFTSMEN 
“ I love the catbird,” Auntie commented. “To 
my mind he is not so much a watchman as an 
actor. A veritable vaudeville clown he is, so full 
of jokes and tricks that a volume could not con¬ 
tain them all. On occasion, too, he excels as an 
opera singer. Like his interesting cousin, the 
mocking-bird, his song bag contains a varied re¬ 
cital of other birds’ notes, with a few bars of his 
own thrown in to complete the measure. Mrs. 
Wright interprets his usual lay as ' Prut! Prut! 
Coquillicot! Really , really, coquillicot! Hey , 
coquillicot! Hey! Victory! y But he is full of 
unexpected surprises; he may run on uninter¬ 
ruptedly for an hour, or close mysteriously after 
the first few notes. The early morning always 
seems to find him in the happiest moods; his cat¬ 
call seems to be most in evidence during the nest¬ 
ing season. Both he and his little wife are nerv¬ 
ous and highly strung, and it does not take much 
to rouse them to a fine scolding order.” 
“ If you are bent on discovering the real bird 
watchmen,” put in Uncle John, “ observe the 
kingbirds. You know them, I think. They wear 
a grayish-slate dress coat and a dapper white 
silk vest. There is a concealed crest of orange- 
red on the crown, a black tail broadly tipped with 
white, black feet and bill. Mrs. Kingbird is 
similar to her mate, with the exception of the 
crown. They are very devoted to one another, 
