“This bird is here about the garden and lane from May to September, and last June we found its long, bulky nest, partly covered like an Indian cradle, in the bushes between the garden and orchard, but it usually is so clever at going into the bushes and then darting along close to the ground to its nest, that we had known of this nest for several days before we discovered that it belonged to Black Mask, for his wife, who kept the nearest to the nest, wears no mask, and we thought her some other kind of Warbler. THE MARYLAND YELLOWTHROAT While May bedecks the naked trees With tassels and embroideries, And many blue-eyed violets beam Along the edges of the stream, I hear a voice that seems to say, Now near at hand, now far away, “Witchery-witchery-witchery!” * * * * * * An incantation so serene, So innocent, befits the scene; There’s magic in that small bird’s note. See! there he flits—the Yellowthroat; A living sunbeam, tipped with wings, A spark of light that shines and sings, “Witchery-witchery-witchery!” —Henry van Dyke, in _The Builders and Other Poems_. “A whistle comes out of the bushes that line the wood lane perhaps when you are gathering the pink Wild Azalea. If you have a dog with you, he will get up and sniff about. The whistle is repeated, and you yourself think it is one of your companions who has rounded the turn calling you. No; then it is merely a Catbird mocking half a dozen other songsters and then jeering at them. “By mere chance, glancing at a tree close above, you see a bird of good size with brilliant yellow throat, breast, and wing-linings, and a strong curved beak that appears almost hooked. Perching there is a Yellow-breasted Chat. He it is who is doing the mocking and jeering, but throws his voice in such a way that it seems to come from the opposite bushes. It is this power that gives him the name of ‘Ventriloquist.’ Being observed, he slips quickly out of sight, and then you notice the olive-green colour on his back. He has a song of his own as well as the power of imitating others and in the nesting season floats out upon the air, with spread wings and legs trailing behind, in a wild ecstasy of singing, looking to us humans very foolish, but is doubtless very fascinating to his mate on her nest hidden amid briers and bushes and thoroughly protected by vines. _Singers in Costume_