[Illustration: _Photo by W. Leon Dawson._ THE DRAPERIES OF PARADISE. RAINIER AS SEEN BY THE SISKIN.] When fired by passion the Siskin is capable, also, of extended song. This daytime serenade is vivacious, but not loud except in occasional passages,—a sort of chattering, ecstatic warble of diverse elements. The bird has, besides its own peculiar notes, many finch-like phrases and interpolations, reminding one now of the Goldfinch, and now of the California Purple Finch. The most striking phrase produced in this connection is a triple shriek of the Evening Grosbeak, subdued of course, but very effective. Tho perhaps not numerically equal to the Western Golden-crowned Kinglet, nor to the Western Winter Wren, there is not another bird in Washington which enjoys a more nearly uniform distribution than the Pine Siskin. Its breeding range coincides with the distribution of evergreen timber; its feeding forays include all alder trees; and roving bands are likely to turn up anywhere in eastern Washington, if there is shrubbery larger or greener than sage-brush at hand. Much of Siskin’s food is obtained upon the ground. City lawns are favorite places of resort; these birds, together with California Purple Finches, appearing to derive more benefit from grass plots, whether as granaries or insectaria, than does any other species. They share also with Crossbills a strong interest in the products of fir trees, whether in cone or leaf. Their peculiar province, however, is the alder catkin, and the tiny white seeds obtained from this source are the staple supply of winter. Mr. Brown, of Glacier, has examined specimens in which the crops were distended by these seeds exclusively. While the observer is ogling, it may be an over-modest Townsend Sparrow, a flock of Pine Siskins will charge incontinently into the alders above his very head. With many _zews_ and _zeems_ they fall to work upon the stubborn catkins, poking, twisting, prying, standing on their heads if need be, to dig out the dainty dole. Now and then, without any apparent reason, one detachment will suddenly desert its claim and settle upon another, precisely similar, a few feet away; while its place will be taken, as likely as not, by a new band, charging the tree like a volley of spent shot.