26 WAKE-ROBIN 



reverberating notes rising from a dozen dififerent 

 throats. 



It is one of the simplest strains to be heard, — as 

 simple as the curve in form, delighting from the 

 pure element of harmony and beauty it contains, 

 and not from any novel or fantastic modulation of 

 it, — thus contrasting strongly with such rollicking, 

 hilarious songsters as the bobolink, in whom we are 

 chiefly pleased with the tintinnabulation, the verbal 

 and labial excellence, and the evident conceit and 

 delight of the performer. 



I hardly know whether I am more pleased or 

 annoyed with the catbird. Perhaps she is a little 

 too common, and her part in the general chorus a 

 little too conspicuous. If you are listening for the 

 note of another bird, she is sure to be prompted to 

 the most loud and protracted singing, drowning all 

 other sounds; if you sit quietly down to observe a 

 favorite or study a new-comer, her curiosity knows 

 no bounds, and you are scanned and ridiculed from 

 every point of observation. Yet I would not miss 

 her; I would only subordinate her a little, make 

 her less conspicuous. 



She is the parodist of the woods, and there is 

 ever a mischievous, bantering, half-ironical under- 

 tone in her lay, as if she were conscious of mimick- 

 ing and disconcerting some envied songster. Ambi- 

 tious of song, practicing and rehearsing in private, 

 she yet seems the least sincere and genuine of the 

 sylvan minstrels, as if she had taken up music only 

 to be in the fashion, or not to be outdone by the 



