from its note. This is, however, very variable, and hardly any two birds give it the same rendering. One has a prefatory "chick," in addition; another tacks the extra "chick" on at the end of his version; while others cut it short, or jumble it all up together at random. One particular variety is "ginger-beer-quick," a call very much adapted to the climate of Bermuda. In short, there is no end to the variations; and a stranger might well imagine, as I did myself at first, that there was more than one species present. It was some little time before I settled the matter to my own satisfaction by careful observation of every "chick" I heard singing, as I expected to meet with V. gilvus or V. Belli among the numerous musicians. The colour of the iris increased my difficulty, as I found it to be brownish, brownish gray, or gray—rarely white, as stated by authors. I presume it is only fully adult birds that show the real white iris; young birds have it decidedly brownish, and 1 have seen a female sitting on eggs with an undeniable brownish gray "cast" in her bright little eye. It would be a waste of lime and valuable space to describe the pretty pensile nest of this species, so familiar to all ornithologists. I have found it usually from three feet to twelve feet above the ground, in cedars, mangroves, Bermuda "holly," pomegranate, and lemon trees, but most commonly in cedars. I never met with more than three eggs or young in one nest; authors assign four or five to the genus. The eggs average ·71 in. by ·52 in., white, with a few dark brown or black dots; some are entirely white. The young at first have the yellow of the wing bars and forehead very pale and dingy. This is a sad little torment to the collector. It comes hissing and scolding within a foot of one's head, puffing itself out with malignant fury. I have touched one with my gun in the thick bushes before it would budge an inch. And when one is on the qui vive for rarities among the big cedars, the little wretches will come from all parts to irritate and deceive one, playing all sorts of antics on the topmost branches, apparently imitating the movements of a Dendroëca or other Sylvicola, in order to induce one to waste a charge on them. Several times they succeeded with me; and on one occasion, the bird having lodged at the top of a very ugly-looking tree, I tore my hands and clothes to pieces in my anxiety to secure the supposed prize. But in spite of this I have a great regard for the cheerful, restless little fellows, whose presence does so much to relieve the monotony
