In a delightful article called “Character in Birds,” Mr. Torrey gives many instances of bird traits that show distinct differences of nature in various species, and which lead one to recall others that have fallen under observation. Mr. Torrey does not mention, for instance, a peculiarity of the redeyed vireo, which is as marked as its persistent and rather tiresome note; that is, its almost intolerable curiosity and fussiness, qualities which it carries to such an extreme that they become absolutely comic. I think I have never seated myself to watch the nest of any bird, that a redeyed vireo has not appeared on the scene and scolded me; and the moment a bird utters a cry of alarm a redeyed vireo is sure to appear with his fretful air of “Oh, dear, what is the matter now?” ready and willing to take a hand in any rows that may be going and quite sure to make more fuss than the really aggrieved party; and oddly enough seeming, in one instance at least, even to resent the noise that the troubled bird was making, for one day when an indigo bird, that I had tormented by watching its nest, had chippered and chattered until he had brought every bird in the neighborhood to see what was the matter, a redeyed vireo, after prancing around for a time, flew at the distracted indigo bird with a very cross squawk, which said as plainly as words, “Do be quiet, can’t you?” The vireo’s action in this case was in marked contrast to that of a thistle bird which came up warbling and gave me a careless glance, and then flew away still singing, but as the noise continued he came back presently and perching on a twig above me, bent his bright head to look at me, saying, “swee-et” in a long-drawn, inquiring way, with a little break in his voice which was singularly endearing, as are all the ways of these charming creatures; after inspecting me again he disappeared, but at a renewed outcry from the indigo birds he came warbling back once more. This time he paid little attention to me, having apparently satisfied his curiosity on that point on his former visit; but seeming to divine that there must be some reason why the indigo bird should make so much fuss, he began to examine the tree which held the nest. Suddenly he discovered the nest, and after a start which expressed surprise and interest, he flew up and hovered over it for an instant and then flitted away, warbling. Redeyed vireos seem to be always restless and irritable, and perfectly sure that you mean to do them or their nests some harm, and it is sometimes quite distracting to go into a certain piece of woods where they are very plentiful; the moment you enter it they begin their distressful “please, please,” uttered half pleadingly and half crossly. One is sure they must be near a vireo’s nest, yet may pass beneath it day after day, and though looking for it fail to find it, if there are no young ones, so skillful are they in concealing their beautiful nests.