, where I am sure to find a nest or two of the slate-colored
snowbird. It is under the brink of a low mossy bank, so near the
highway that it could be reached from a passing vehicle with a whip.
Every horse or wagon or foot passenger disturbs the sitting bird.
She awaits the near approach of the sound of feet or wheels, and
then darts quickly across the road, barely clearing the ground, and
disappears amid the bushes on the opposite side.

In the trees that line one of the main streets and fashionable
drives leading out of Washington city and less than half a mile from
the boundary, I have counted the nests of five different species at
one time, and that without any very close scrutiny of the foliage,
while, in many acres of woodland half a mile off, I searched in vain
for a single nest. Among the five, the nest that interested me most
was that of the blue grosbeak. Here this bird, which, according to
Audubon's observations in Louisiana, is shy and recluse, affecting
remote marshes and the borders of large ponds of stagnant water, had
placed its nest in the lowest twig of the lowest branch of a large
sycamore, immediately over a great thoroughfare, and so near the
ground that a person standing in a cart or sitting on a horse could
have reached it with his hand. The nest was composed mainly of
fragments of newspaper and stalks of grass, and, though so low, was
remarkably well concealed by one of the peculiar clusters of twigs
and leaves which characterize this tree. The nest contained young
when I discovered it, and, though the parent birds were much annoyed
by my loitering about beneath the tree, they paid little attention
to the stream of vehicles that was constantly passing. It was a
wonder to me when the birds could have built it, for they are much
shyer when building than at other times. No doubt they worked mostly
in the morning, having the early hours all to themselves.

Another pair of blue grosbeaks built in a grave-yard within the city
limits. The nest was placed in a low bush, and the male continued to
sing at intervals till the young were ready to fly. The song of this
bird is a rapid, intricate warble, like that of the indigo-bird,
though stronger and louder. Indeed, these two birds so much resemble
each other in color, form, manner, voice, and general habits that,
were it not for the difference in size,--the grosbeak being nearly
as large again as the indigo-bird,--it would be a hard matter to
tell them a