was remarkably well concealed by one of the peculiar clusters of twigs and leaves which characterize this tree.  The nest contained young when I discovered it, and, though the parent birds were much annoyed by my loitering about beneath the tree, they paid little attention to the stream of vehicles that was constantly passing.  It was a wonder to me when the birds could have built it, for they are much shyer when building than at any other times.  No doubt they worked mostly in the morning, having the early hours all to themselves.

Another pair of blue grosbeaks built in a graveyard within the city limits.  The nest was placed in a low bush, and the male continued to sing at intervals till the young were ready to fly.  The song of this bird is a rapid, intricate warble, like that of the indigo-bird, though stronger and louder.  Indeed, these two birds so much resemble each other in color, form, manner, voice, and general habits that, were it not for the difference in size,—­the grosbeak being nearly as large again as the indigo-bird,—­it would be a hard matter to tell them apart.  The females of both species are clad in the same reddish-brown suits.  So are the young the first season.

Of course in the deep, primitive woods, also are nests; but how rarely we find them!  The simple art of the bird consists in choosing common, neutral-tinted material, as moss, dry leaves, twigs, and various odds and ends, and placing the structure on a convenient branch, where it blends in color with its surroundings; but how consummate is this art, and how skillfully is the nest concealed!  We occasionally light upon it, but who, unaided by the movements of the bird, could find it out?  During the present season I went to the woods nearly every day for a fortnight without making any discoveries of this kind, till one day, paying them a farewell visit, I chanced to come upon several nests.  A black and white creeping warbler suddenly became much alarmed as I was approaching a crumbing old stump in a dense part of the forest.  He alighted upon it, chirped sharply, ran up and down its sides, and finally left it with much reluctance.  The nest, which contained three young birds nearly fledged, was placed upon the ground, at the foot of the stump, and in such a positions that the color of the young harmonized perfectly with the bits of bark, sticks, etc., lying about.  My eye rested upon them for the second time before I made them out.  They hugged the nest very closely, but as I put down my hand they all scampered off with loud cries for help, which caused the parent birds to place themselves almost within my reach.  The nest was merely a little dry grass arranged in a thick bed of dry leaves.