Peer Oe ei Bs Oe NP Bo Ook TyTN 3 
which now contained three eggs, and all was quiet. A little later, when I 
arose from my sitting position, the bird was quickly off and singing for 
dear life from nearby branches. I crept back to my place; soon the song 
ceased and in the same moment the bird was slipping into the nest again. 
Once more, after a short wait, I moved, and this time succeeded in seeing 
the bird leave the nest and immediately begin to sing. 
The next morning at 7:00 I walked across the road toward the nesting 
place. Again all was quiet until I had entered the thicket. Then the singing 
began in rather short declarative sentences—the bird did not ask so many 
questions when I was near his nest. The nest could not be seen more than 
ten feet off, and no bird was on it when I arrived at that distance, but 
after I had been quiet for a time the female came stealthily and slipped 
quickly into the nest, facing northwest, which was toward the junction of 
branchlets forming the fork from which the nest was hung. Her mate, who 
had continued his singing, moved to another bush not far away and sang 
for a few minutes longer. I attempted to creep closer; this caused the 
female to leave quickly but silently. I waited again, this time within five 
feet of the nest, and occasionally saw the female watching me, but she 
could not bring up her courage to the point of entering the nest. Mean- 
while the male sang and watched from different points, sometimes near the 
ground, sometimes in the top of the bush. Once, while in the tree-top he 
drooped his tail and spread it like a fan, at the same time singing—his 
throat vibrating: altogether a very pretty pose. The tail feathers were thus 
shown to be about even. When his mate was near he sang his series of 
up-and-down squeaks. A little later, while he was singing this unusual 
gabble, the female came quietly to the edge of the nest, and with a quick 
hop which turned her almost about face in the air, jumped into it so that 
her body was instantly hidden, leaving only her head and tail visible above 
the rim. She faced northwest as before. The male had a way of preening 
quite industriously during the short interval between songs. He wasted 
none of his spare moments—or was this his trick for holding the attention 
of trespassers upon himself, or merely a habitual nervous reaction? 
Again on the morning of the 10th, at 7:15, I stopped on the road 
about fifty yards away. The vireo was singing at that time but he stopped 
a few minutes later. Before I had reached my observing station under the 
bushes the bird in the nest had left it and the male was singing again. 
His behavior was about as previously described, though there was none of 
his squeaky gabble. As before, he preened his feathers, especially on the 
breast, between passages of song. After some time the female hopped quick- 
ly and quietly into the nest. I moved closer; she “sat tight” for a few 
moments and then suddenly slipped away into a clump of blackberry briers 
nearby, from which, for the first time, she uttered a series of alarm or 
scolding notes. The scolding was repeated from the upper part of the nest 
bush. 
My next visit was a short one, on the evening of the 12th, beginning 
at 6:50. The sitting bird slipped away unseen. Both birds moved about 
through the dense foliage but there was no singing; it was cloudy and 
probably too late in the day for song. As I reached the nest one of them 
