258 SOME COMMON LAND-BIRDS. 



as far north as ^Massachusetts, so that few of us may hear his 

 clear, thrilling notes. Some say that he sings, " Hear me, 

 holy Theresa," as if supplicating a saint ; but on Prince 

 Edward Island they declare that he sings, " Good Lord, 

 pity me, pity me, pity me ! " which is a true litany put to most 

 fitting music. 



Few birds are easier to tell by their music and harder to tell 

 without it than the vireos. By all means put their song into 

 words. Remember the yellow-throated vireo's song already 

 given and Mr. Chapman's rendering of the white-eyed vireo's 

 abrupt little, " Who are you, eh ? " and that one by which 

 Wilson Flagg described once and forever the red-eyed vireo's 

 incessant homily, "You see it — you know it — do you hear 

 me ? — do you believe it?" as he trips al)0ut the tree trunks, 

 picking up insects between the phrases. 



And here is one of the bobolink's worth remembering. If 

 run through rather quickly and with increasing rapidity and a 

 rising inflection, it mimics admirably the spring song of this 

 jolly, careless, light-hearted, and boisterously happy fellow, 

 who doesn't try to sing, but just opens his mouth and lets the 

 music bubble out. "Tom Noodle, Tom Noodle, you owe me, 

 you owe me ten shillings and sixpence ! " — "I paid you, I paid 

 you ! '' — " You didn't, you didn't ! " — " You lie, you lie ; you 

 cheat ! " And then the black-and-white dandy who has been 

 singing l)oth parts of the duo, just tumbles down into the 

 grass to rest himself. 



" June's bridesman, poet of the year, 

 Gladness on wings, the bobolink, is here ; 

 Plalf hid in tip-top apple-blooms he swings, 

 Or climbs against the breeze with quivering wings, 

 Or, giving way to 't in a mock despair, 

 Runs down, a brook of laughter, through the air." 



