Its nest, which is made of dry grass and copiously lined with a mass of feathers, is variously placed. Sometimes the knot-holes of oaks and other deciduous trees are selected. They have also been known to use the deserted homes of the cliff swallow. Mr. Allen states that they “nest in abandoned woodpeckers’ holes, but at the Garden of the Gods and on the divide between Denver and Colorado City, we found them building in holes in the rocks.” This Swallow is quite common in Western Colorado, where they have been observed on the mountain sides at an altitude of eight to over ten thousand feet. In “The Birds of Colorado” Mr. W. W. Cooke says: “A few breed on the plains, but more commonly from six to ten thousand five hundred feet” above the level of the sea. He also adds that they begin laying late in June or early in July and desert the higher regions in August and the lower early in September. The notes of this exquisite bird are described by an observer who says that they “consist of a rather faint warbling twitter, uttered as they sit on some low twig, their favorite perch; when flying about they seem to be rather silent.” The Violet-green Swallows, like their sister species, usually nest and migrate in colonies. Isn’t it wonderful, when you think, How the wild bird sings his song, Weaving melodies, link by link, The whole sweet summer long? Commonplace is a bird alway, Everywhere seen and heard,— But all the engines of earth, I say, Working on till Judgment Day, Never could make a bird. —J. S. Cutler. A PRETTY HOUSE-FINCH. My first meeting with the blithesome house-finch of the west occurred in the city of Denver, Colo. It could not properly be called a formal introduction, but was none the less welcome on that account. I had scarcely stepped out upon the busy street before I was accosted with a kind of half twitter and half song that was new to my eastern ears. “Surely that is not the racket of the English sparrow, it is too musical,” I remarked to the friend walking by my side. Peering among the trees and houses, caring little for the people who stopped to stare at me, I presently focused my field-glass upon a small, finch-like bird, whose body was striped with gray and brown, and whose crown, face, breast and rump were beautifully tinged or washed with crimson. What could this chipper little city chap be, with his trim form and pretty manners, in such marked contrast with those of the alien English sparrow? Afterward he was identified as the house-finch, which rejoices in the high-sounding Latin name of Carpodacus mexicanus frontalis. He is rather an exclusive little bird, his range being only from the eastern border of the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific coast, chiefly south of the fortieth degree of north latitude in the interior regions.