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 May, 1917 BIRDS OF THE HUMID COAST 97 sical hoit, whoitc, tra-la-la-la-ree, on opposite sides of the green acre at one time, one of them perched on the tip of a stake beside me quite unafraid, when a Robin spied a prowling cat and made such an outcry that, much to my disap- pointment the concert stopped abruptly. Before family cares became too en- grossing, the lovely Thrush songs might be heard at almost any time of day, sung perhaps within hearing of happy brown mothers brooding their nests in the bordering groves. While the sweet song seemed best suited to the open clearings and fragrant fern fields, at its deepest moments--in the quiet evening hours and at the nest--it went well with the richly shadowed hemlocks, with the sound of the wind through the spruces, and the cool strong air from over the sea. One of the trails through the fern fields led to a fence where Goldilocks went mornings for a pail of milk that hung from a rail, went protected by her two dogs, for across the fence down a dark trail through the forest a black bear had gone not long before--had gone ambling by the Pileated's stub on through the dark woods to a small vood garden where pink Canterbury bells nearly twice a bear's height bordered the trail, and then up across a monster fallen log that blocked the way and was easier to surmount with four feet than two--fearsome trail--no wonder the little milk maid's heart beat hard and she kept her protectors close at hand ! Just beyond the fence where the milk pail hung above the bracken, stood one of the white mottled alders with its multiplicity of slender branches .and cocoon-like cushions of greenish brown moss then being shipped out in bales to California florists. The light green leafy alder top was one of the favorite hunting grounds of a Western Flycatcher, but only occasional glimpses could be caught of twitching shoulders or other fragmentary parts of avian anatomy as he flitted about in the thick sunny tree top. Once I did get a really good view of his olivaceous back as he sat on a branch singing a weak disjointed song that after all was rather pleasing and was apparently eminently satisfac- tory to himself. See-wick-ee-wick-ee, see-wick-ee-wick, it ran, varied by e-pa- seb, pa-sub, a jerk of the tail following the terminal seb or sub. After singing his song over and over till partly perhaps from its association with the sunny tree top, it began to sound very sweet in my ears, he fell back on his faniliar call of see-wick, willingly answering my poor imitations of his notes for a time, and then flying on into the alders and conifers by the brook, where he was lost sight of in the dense thicket. Another small Flycatcher, presumably trailli, was seen several times on a small dead tree in the middle of a neighboring clearing with the sun shining full on his white breast, contentedly cfiling pre-ep'-pah-deer, pre-ep'-ah-deer, his notes punctuated by jerks of the tail. In the top of a young hemlock near our fence line, a Seattle Wren often sang a bright clear musical song, or rather a variety of songs, for his flexible voice made variety easy. The general form and rhythm sometimes suggested the pill-a-will of the black Towhee, but the wrennish burr and quality were characteristic. Sometimes it was bur'r'r will-ahwill, or bur'r'r willahwillahwill; again pur'r'r-will, will, will, will, will, wll, pur'r'r-will, wdll, will, will, will, will; or tu-wee' wata, wata, wata. Once the Wren gave a single short note and then four notes strikingly loud and clear; and again four repetitions of the same note with the fifth note dropped, be-he-he-he ha-ha-ba-hu.p. From the fence at the foot of our fern field a trail led through the bracken