THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS 7 



Robin-redbreast, with whom he associates both at 

 this season and in the autumn, is the gold-winged 

 woodpecker, alias "high-hole," alias "flicker," 

 alias "yarup." He is an old favorite of my boy- 

 hood, and his note to me means very much. He 

 announces his arrival by a long, loud call, repeated 

 from the dry branch of some tree, or a stake in 

 the fence, — a thoroughly melodious April sound. 

 I think how Solomon finished that beautiful de- 

 scription of spring, "And the voice of the turtle is 

 heard in the land," and see that a description of 

 spring in this farming country, to be equally char- 

 acteristic, should culminate in like manner, — " And 

 the call of the high-hole comes up from the wood." 

 It is a loud, strong, sonorous call, and does not 

 seem to imply an answer, but rather to subserve 

 some purpose of love or music. It is "Yarup's'' 

 proclamation of peace and goodwill to all. On 

 looking at the matter closely, I perceive that most 

 birds, not denominated songsters, have, in the 

 spring, some note or sound or call that hints of a 

 song, and answers imperfectly the end of beauty 

 and art. As a "livelier iris changes on the bur- 

 nished dove," and the fancy of the young man 

 turns lightly to thoughts of his pretty cousin, so 

 the same jenewing spirit touches the "silent sing- 

 ers," and they are no longer dumb; faintly they 

 lisp the first syllables of the marvelous tale. Wit- 

 ness the clear, sweet whistle of the gray-crested 

 titmouse, — the soft, nasal piping of the nuthatch, — 

 the amorous, vivacious warble of the bluebird, — 



