=Notes from a Connecticut Pine Swamp.=—The pine swamp of which I write is situated in the township of Ledyard, Connecticut, two miles east of Gales Ferry and the Thames River, and about eight miles north of Fisher’s Island sound. It runs north and south for about half a mile, and is three hundred feet above sea level. In it grow tall white pines, though many which formerly grew along the edges of the swamp have been cut down. It is a wild place, containing the usual “Bottomless Pit,” the old time farmers, with their longest poles, being unable to find a bottom. Once upon a time, also, a wildcat inhabited it—so sayeth tradition! The native Rhododendron (_R. maximum_) grows here in profusion attaining a height of twenty-five, or more, feet, and is a wonderful sight when in blossom in July. There is also much laurel and many hardwood trees on the edge of the swamp. On July 5, 1918, walking here among the Rhododendrons, listening to the songs of the Hooded Warbler, I made a discovery. The Hooded Warbler is quite common in this locality and sings freely. I heard the two songs on this day—one of which seems to say “you’re it, you’re it, you’re it, you’re it yourself” sung rapidly and varying in the number of “you’re its.” The other song seems to say “Nobody can touch me-ë.” a rising inflection on the end. They made me think of children playing tag. Suddenly a strange distant song drew my attention and I hastened along listening intently—then as I stood on a rock surrounded by Rhododendrons out flew a beautiful Black-throated Blue Warbler, which alighted on a tree and sang. It flew about from tree to tree quite near and sang over and over again, and was answered by the same song from a more distant bird. The song was much finer than the books lead one to suppose. About six zees—the first three seeming to have a sort of double resonance and the last longer drawn out and higher. Of course the birds were nesting here, but although I visited the spot every few days and heard and saw the bud near the same locality, I could never locate the nest, in the wild tangle of growth. The last time that I heard the song was on August 1. In Dr. Bishop’s ‘List of Connecticut Birds’ the Black-throated Blue is given as nesting at Eastford in 1874 and 1881, in Kent in 1905 and in Litchfield in 1905. Near this same place some Broad-winged Hawks were nesting and every time I visited the spot one of them would perch in a tall tree and whistle—a shrill penetrating whistle, although at times they could do it quite softly. They seemed to be unafraid and it was amusing to see one of them watching my dog as he ran among the bushes; it would stretch its neck and twist its head from side to side in a very funny way. For two years now the Solitary Vireo has nested in this vicinity and delighted us with its song all summer.