_Voice._--The call note of the Colima warbler is a very sharp, almost explosive _psit_. Its common song is a continuous trill, like that of the chipping sparrow, but shorter (lasting 3 to 4 seconds), more musical, and ending with two separate notes slightly lower in scale. A second, rarer, and more varied song is so clear that it can be heard for three or four hundred feet through the woods although it does not seem loud when heard from nearby. It is perhaps this song that Brandt (1940) describes as resembling the song of the eastern redstart. E. C. Jacot (MS.) reports that the males usually start singing when "a person approaches the territory of a pair, and continues to sing until the intruder has passed." In the Chisos Mountains, Tex., the males were persistent singers. Once several sang even after a dense fog had silenced most other species. They sang usually from bushes and small trees between periods of feeding and moving about but sometimes remained for a while on a higher perch (up to 20 feet), singing at frequent intervals. DISTRIBUTION _Range._--Chisos Mountains, Tex., and mountains of northeastern Mexico; probably winters in Colima, Michoacán, and Sinaloa. The Colima warbler has been recorded from: Texas (Chisos Mountains); Coahuila (Sierra Guadalupe and Diamante Pass); Tamaulipas (Miquihuana); Michoacán (Patamba and Sierra Ozumatlan); Sinaloa (5 miles north of Santa Lucia); Colima (Sierra Nevada). _Egg dates._--Texas: 2 records, May 15 and 20. VERMIVORA LUCIAE (Cooper) LUCY'S WARBLER PLATES 18, 19 HABITS Dr. J. G. Cooper discovered this tiny and inconspicuous warbler at Fort Mojave, on the Arizona side of the Colorado River, in the spring of 1861, and named it in honor of Miss Lucy Baird, daughter of Prof. Spencer F. Baird. It might well have been named the mesquite warbler, as its distribution coincides very closely with that of this tree, which seems to furnish its favorite home, most of its nesting sites, and much of its foraging area. Harry S. Swarth (1905) wrote of conditions then existing: South of Tucson, Arizona, along the banks of the Santa Cruz River, lies a region offering the greatest inducements to the ornithologist. The river, running underground for most of its course, rises to the surface at this point, and the bottom lands on either side are covered, miles in extent, with a thick growth of giant mesquite trees, literally giants, for a person accustomed to the scrubby bush that grows everywhere in the desert regions of the southwest, can hardly believe that these fine trees, many of them sixty feet high and over, really belong to the same species. This magnificent grove is included in the Papago Indian Reservation, which is the only reason for the trees surviving as long as they have, since elsewhere every mesquite large enough to be used as firewood has been ruthlessly cut down, to grow up again as a scraggly bush.