THIS bird comedian is an actor, a mimic, and a ventriloquist; he has been called "a rollicking polygot," "an eccentric acrobat," "a happy-go-lucky clown, turning aerial somersaults," "a Punchinello among birds," and from my own experience I can add that he is a practical joker and "an artful dodger." His voice is absolutely unique in its range. Besides his power as a ventriloquist, to throw it in any direction, and so entice away from his nest any intruder upon his domain, he possesses the most unequaled capacity for making queer noises. On a certain summer day I was driving to Monticello, the Virginia home of President Jefferson, along a beautiful road, bordered by tall trees and a thick, leafy undergrowth where a thousand nests might be safely hidden. All along a road the Chats called chit, chit, or barked, whined, clucked, whistled, sang, chuckled and called overhead, or out of the bushes beside us, always invisible, or just giving a flutter to the leaves to show their presence. One of the party declared one called Kitty, Kitty! distinctly, and he also mimmicked a puppy most successfully. Later on, in July, I was stopping near a favorite haunt of the Chats; a country place on the edge of the woods, where thickly growing shrubs and bushes filled the deep hollows between the hills and near the streams. Here they had their broods, and not only all day, but late in the evening by moonlight they could be heard, making the whole place ring with their medley of sounds, while not a feather of them could be seen.

Yet I finally succeeded in catching various glimpses of them, and in equally characteristic, though different moods. First, I saw them darting rapidly to and fro on foraging journeys, their bills filled with food, for they are most admirable husbands and fathers, and faithful to the nests that they hide with such care. They are beautiful birds, rich olive-green above and a bright yellow below, with two or three pure white lines or stripes about the eye and throat and a "beauty spot" of black near the beak. I watched one balancing on a slender twig near the water in the bright sunshine and his colors, green and gold, fairly glittered. His nest is usually near the ground in the crotch of a low branch and is a rather large one, woven of bark in strips, coarse grass and leaves, and lined with finer grass for the three or four white eggs, adorned with small reddish-brown spots. One pair had their home near a blackberry thicket, and they might be seen gobbling berries and peeping at you with bright black eyes all the while.

The Chat excels in extraordinary and absurd pose; wings fluttering, tail down, legs dangling like a Stork, he executes all kinds of tumbles in the air. It is said that a Chat courtship is a sight never to be forgotten by the lucky spectator. Such somersaults, such songs, such queer jerks and starts. Our bird is one of the Wood Warbler family, a quiet and little known group of birds. His elusiveness and skill in hiding, and his swift movements, are his only traits in common with them.

Ella F. Mosby.

In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go out and see her riches and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.—Milton.