“This bird builds no nest, but lays its pair of dull white eggs, so marked that they blend with the earth like lichens and mosses, on the bare ground, or at best among a few leaves. But rash as this seems, the protective colour that nature has given to the parents, eggs, and young serves to keep them as safe as many another bird in a well-woven tree nest. “Then, too, aside from its picturesque qualities, the Whip-poor-will, as Mr. Forbush says of it, ‘is an animated insect trap. Its enormous mouth is surrounded by long bristles which form a wide fringe about a yawning cavity, and the bird flies rather low among the trees and over the undergrowth, snapping up nocturnal insects in flight. It is, perhaps, the greatest enemy of night-moths, but is quite as destructive to May beetles and other leaf-eating beetles.’ THE WOOD THRUSH AND THE WHIP-POOR-WILL When the faintest flush of morning Overtints the distant hill, _If you waken, if you listen_, You may hear the Whip-poor-will. Like an echo from the darkness, Strangely wild across the glen, Sound the notes of his finale, And the woods are still again. Soon upon the dreamy silence There will come a gentle trill, Like the whisper of an organ, Or the murmur of a rill, And then a burst of music, Swelling forth upon the air, Till the melody of morning Seems to come from everywhere. A Thrush, as if awakened by The parting voice of night, Gives forth a joyous welcome to The coming of the light. In early evening twilight Again the Wood Thrush sings, Like a voice of inspiration With the melody of strings; A song of joy ecstatic, And a vesper hymn of praise, For the glory of the summer And the promise of the days. * * * * * * And when his song is ended, And all the world grows still, As if but just awakened, Calls again the Whip-poor-will. —Garrett Newkirk, in _Bird-Lore_. “_The Nighthawk_, when perching, bears a general resemblance to the Whip-poor-will. The white band on its throat is wider, the tail is _not_ round, and it has white band near the end. There is a white bar across the quills of the wings that in flight looks like a round white spot or a hole. “These four white patches, throat, wings, and tail tell you his name plainly, so when he is on the wing the Nighthawk should never be mistaken for a Whip-poor-will. Then, too, their habits are unlike. The Nighthawk does not belong to the night, neither is he a Hawk, which is a Bird of Prey with talons and a hooked beak. Early morning and late afternoon are his favourite times for hunting the sky for insects, for he also is one of our most valuable sky sweepers.