Last summer I spent several days in the West of England studying the species, and whilst I was lying hidden with my camera within three feet of a nest, had many opportunities of hearing the exquisite song of the male to perfection. Whilst the hen was sitting on the nest he frequently took up his station on a bramble spray just above and partly behind her, and regaled us both with the most wonderful programme of feathered music I have ever heard. As a mimic, the Marsh Warbler is unsurpassable. [Illustration: MARSH WARBLER ON THE NEST.] Several times the specimen I listened to began his concert with the alarm cry of a Song Thrush, so loud and accurately rendered that I was completely deceived into thinking that I was listening to the notes of a disturbed member of that species. After a little pause he would reproduce the warbling notes of a Swallow, then the _tut, tut, tut_ of a Blackbird, followed by the full, rich notes of the Nightingale. He could also reproduce the call note of a Common Partridge, and the sweet little song of a Linnet with equal fidelity. He always appeared to take great care not to mix his music, for, after finishing one piece, there was a noticeable pause before the commencement of another. In the case of another pair of birds, that had been robbed, I noticed that the male sang much upon the wing as he flew back and forth from tree to tree across an osier-grown clay pit. This species was first discovered in Somersetshire, and has been found breeding in Gloucestershire, Oxfordshire, and Cambridge. It is a great pity that it should be so much persecuted by egg collectors, some of whom seem bent upon ruining its chances of ever becoming a regular British breeding species. To listen to the bird’s exquisite song for ten minutes is a far greater pleasure than to gaze for a month at its empty egg shells in a cabinet. [Illustration: marsh landscape] =THE REED BUNTING.= [Illustration: reed with swallowtail butterfly] The male Reed Bunting, or Reed Sparrow as it is frequently called, can hardly be mistaken for any other British bird on account of his conspicuous velvety black head and white collar running from the base of the bill down the sides of the neck some distance, and thence right round to the back of the head. His back is brownish-black, the feathers being broadly margined with reddish-brown and tawny grey; breast and under parts white, tinged and streaked with brown towards the sides. He is rather longer than the Common Sparrow, and shows a distinct white streak down either side of his tail when flying away from the observer. His mate is smaller and has a brown instead of a black head.