8 WAKE-iiOBIN 



the long, rich note of the meadowlark, — the whis* 

 tie of the quail, — the drumming of the partridge, 



— the animation and loquacity of the swallows, 

 and the like. Even the hen has a homely, con- 

 tented carol; and I credit the oy\^1s with a desire 

 to fill the night with music. All birds are incipi- 

 ent or would-be songsters in the spring. I find 

 corroborative evidence of this even in the crowing 

 of the cock. The flowering of the maple is not so 

 obvious as that of the magnolia; nevertheless, there 

 is actual inflorescence. 



Few writers award any song to that familiar little 

 sparrow, the Socialis ; yet who that has observed 

 him sitting by the wayside, and repeating, with 

 devout attitude, that fine sliding chant, does not 

 recognize the neglect? Wlio has heard the snow- 

 bird sing? Yet he has a lisping warble very savory 

 to the ear. I have heard him indulge in it even in 

 February. 



Even the cow bunting feels the musical tendency, 

 and aspires to its expression, with the rest. Perched 

 upon the topmost branch beside his mate or mates, 



— for he is quite a polygamist, and usually has two, 

 or three demure little ladies in faded black beside 

 him, — generally in the early part of the day, he 

 seems literally to vomit up his notes. Apparently* 

 with much labor and effort, they gurgle and blub- 

 ber up out of him, falling on the ear with a pecul- 

 iar subtile ring, as of turning water from a glass 

 bottle, and not without a certain pleasing cadence. 



Neither is the common woodpecker entirely in- 



