During this period, with the exception of five
interruptions of less than forty-five seconds each, he sang with the
greatest regularity once every twelve seconds. Thus, allowing for the
brief intervals of silence, he sang about 875 times, or some 5,250 notes.
I found him singing, and when I departed he showed no signs of ceasing."
It is such painstaking observations that add something new and fresh to
our knowledge of birds.

The Kentucky warbler is fond of walking about on the ground in the woods,
seeking for his favorite insects. As you slowly follow, you will now and
then catch a glimpse of him through the apertures of the leaves; then he
will again disappear beneath his canvas of green. Thus he pursues his
quest hour after hour, and you may hear the rustle of his tiny feet upon
the carpet of dead leaves. Is it only a notion of mine, or am I correct,
in thinking that his promenades on the ground are mostly taken early in
the spring before there is danger from snakes?

I like the pretty Kentuckians, but must grant you that in some respects
they are quite exasperating, never inclined to be as confiding as some
other birds. And then most birds will sooner or later betray the
presence of their nests, but the Kentucky warblers seldom do so, knowing
too well how to keep their procreant secrets. They have evidently
learned the use of strategy, as you will see: One day a pair began to
chirp vigorously as I approached their demesne in a lonely hollow, and I
felt a thrill of joy at the prospect of finding a nest. One of them even
flitted about with a worm in its bill--a sure sign of nestlings in the
neighborhood. For nearly four hours I watched the chirping couple, and
peered, as I thought, into every nook and cranny of the place, but all in
vain; neither nest nor bantlings could I find. Yet in some way that
seemed almost mysterious enough to be uncanny, the mother bird got rid of
the tidbit which she held in her bill. She probably decided to eat it
herself rather than betray the whereabouts of her younglings. I have
seen more than one parent bird do that.

A few days later, in the same hollow, a Kentucky warbler was singing
contentedly, showing no signs of uneasiness. The female was not to be
seen or heard. I stalked about a long time, hoping to flush her from her
nest, but all my efforts were as futile that day as they had been on my
previous visit. In another hollow, on the same day, I watched a Kentucky
w