in one; with such a
bare-footed, bare-legged appearance, too, as if he must always be ready
to wade; and such a Saint Vitus's dance! His must be a curious history.
In particular, I should like to know the origin of his teetering habit,
which seems to put him among the beach birds. Can it be that such
frequenters of shallow water are rendered less conspicuous by this
wave-like, up-and-down motion, and have actually adopted it as a means
of defense, just as they and many more have taken on a color harmonizing
with that of their ordinary surroundings?[27]

The black-throated blue warblers were common, and like most of their
tribe were waiting upon offspring just out of the nest. I watched one as
he offered his charge a rather large insect. The awkward fledgeling let
it fall three times; and still the parent picked it up again, only
chirping mildly, as if to say, "Come, come, my beauty, don't be quite so
bungling." But even in the midst of their family cares, they still found
leisure for music; and as they and the black-throated greens were often
singing together, I had excellent opportunities to compare the songs of
the two species. The voices, while both very peculiar, are at the same
time so nearly alike that it was impossible for me on hearing the first
note of either strain to tell whose it was. With the voice the
similarity ends, however; for the organ does not make the singer, and
while the blue seldom attempts more than a harsh, monotonous _kree,
kree, kree_, the green possesses the true lyrical gift, so that few of
our birds have a more engaging song than his simple _Trees, trees,
murmuring trees_, or if you choose to understand it so, _Sleep, sleep,
pretty one, sleep_.[28]

I saw little of the blue yellow-backed warbler, but whenever I took the
mountain path I was certain to hear his whimsical upward-running song,
broken off at the end with a smart snap. He seemed to have chosen the
neighborhood of the fernery for his peculiar haunt, a piece of good
taste quite in accord with his general character. Nothing could well be
more beautiful than this bird's plumage; and his nest, which is
"globular, with an entrance on one side," is described as a wonder of
elegance; while in grace of movement not even the titmouse can surpass
him. Strange that such an exquisite should have so fantastic a song.

I have spoken of the rainy weather. There were times when the piazza was
as far out-of-doors as it was expedient to venture.