KINGLETS AND GNATCATCHERS. 393

what faltering notes, and ends with a short rapid, rather explosive waible. The opening notes are given in a rising key, but the song . falls rapidly at the end. The whole may be expressed as follows: tzee, tzee, tzee, tzee, t1', t1', ter, t1'- t1'— t1'- t1'.”

Muffled in its thick coat of feathers, the diminutive Goldcrest braves our severest winters, living evidence that, given an abundance of food, temperature is a secondary factor in a. bird’s existence.

749. Regulus calendula.(L1'nn.). RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. (See Fig. 58*, a.) Ad. .5 .—Crown with a partly concealed crest of bright red; rest of upper parts grayish olive—green, brighter on the rump; wings and tail fus— cous, edged with olive-green, two whitish wing-bars; tail slightly forked, the middle feathers shortest; under parts soiled whitish, more or less tinged with bufl‘y. Ad. 9 and 1m.—Sin1ilar, but without the red crown-patch. L., 4'41; W., 2'24; T., 1'73; B., '29.

Ifemarks.—Females and young are warblcrlikc in general appearance, but note the short first primary, barely one inch in length.

Range—North America; breeds from the northern border of the United States northward; winters from South Carolina southward into Mexico.

Washington, abundant T. V., Apl. 5 to May 10; Sept. 25 to Nov. 1: occa- sionally winters. Sing Sing, common T. V., Apl. 8 to May 13; Sept. 16 to Nov. 3. Cambridge, rather common T. V., Apl. 10 to May 5; Oct. 10 to Nov. 5. ‘

Nest, usually semipensile, of moss, fine strips of bark, neatly interwoven, lined with feathers, in coniferous trees, twelve to thirty feet from the ground. Eggs, five to nine, dull whitish or pale bufl'y, faintly speckled or spotted with pale brown, chiefly at the larger end, ‘55 x '43 (Davie).

When the leaves begin to turn you will notice numerous very small, olive-green birds flitting about the terminal twigs of the trees and lower growth. in the woods, orchards, or hedgerows. They re- semble Warblers, but are much tamer—you can almost touch them— and have a. habit of nervously flitting their wings every few seconds, perhaps accompanying the action by a wrenlike scolding note. You will not often hear them sing at this season, and there is little in their voice or appearance to tell you that they are among the most famous of feathered songsters.

The May morning when first I heard this Kinglet’s song is among the most memorable of my early ornithological experiences. The bird was in the tree tops in the most impassable bit of woods near my home, The longer and more eagerly I followed the unseen singer the greater the mystery became. It seemed impossible that a bird which I supposed was at least as large as a Bluebird could escape observation in the partly leaved trees. The song was mellow and flulelike, and loud enough to be heard several hundred yards; an intricate warble past imitation or description, and rendered so admirably that I never