The words of Mr. Keyser most aptly describe the habits of the Hooded Warbler. He says, speaking of an hour spent in observing the bird’s behavior, “He was not in the least shy or nervous, but seemed rather to court my presence. Almost every moment was spent in capturing insects on the wing or in sitting on a perch watching for them to flash into view. Like a genuine flycatcher, as soon as a buzzing insect hove in sight, he would dart out after it, and never once failed to secure his prize. Sometimes he would plunge swiftly downward after a gnat or miller, and once, having caught a miller that was large and inclined to be refractory, he flew to the ground, beat it awhile on the clods, and then swallowed it with a consequential air which seemed to say, ‘That is my way of disposing of such cases!’ Several times he mounted almost straight up from his perch, and twice he almost turned a somersault in pursuit of an insect. Once he clung like a titmouse to the hole of a sapling.” To some its notes, which are quite musical, lively, sweet and happy, seem to resemble twee, twee, twitchie. Mr. Chapman says the song “is subject to much variation, but as a rule consists of eight or nine notes. To my ear the bird seems to say, ‘You must come to the woods, or you won’t see me.’” The nest of the Hooded Warbler is usually built in low shrubs, sometimes but a few inches from the ground and seldom higher than two feet. It is constructed of fine rootlets, and fibers of bark compactly interwoven with leaves, fine grass and hair. It is lined with grass, hair and feathers. The eggs, which are usually five in number, are white, or nearly white, in color, with red or brownish spots near the larger end. They are nearly three-fourths of an inch in length, and a little over one-half of an inch in their greatest diameter. Three years or more are required for the development of the fully adult plumage. The throat of the female, though black, is not as pure a black as that of the male, and it is not so extensive or as well defined. MRS. JANE’S EXPERIMENT. One is surprised at the wonderful vitality to be found in an egg. The following incident, almost incredible as it seems, is an absolute fact. Mrs. Jane, very fond of raising select breeds of chickens, put a setting of fine Brahma eggs under what she considered an absolutely trustworthy Biddy,—but, alas! Biddy proved unstable, like many another biped, and went off in a few days, leaving her nest and rather costly contents to the mercy of the elements. Mrs. Jane, in three or four days, discovered the abandoned domicile, and, determined not to be outdone by any such maneuver on the part of Biddy, proposed to show her that Brahma chickens could be developed without the assistance of any old hen.