MINOR SONGSTERS. 165 



might be said of the prairie warbler ; but his 

 etude is a little longer and less hurried, besides 

 being in a higher key. I do not call to mind 

 any bird who sings a downward scale. Having 

 before spoken of the tendency of warblers to 

 learn two or even three set tunes, I was the 

 more interested when, last summer, I added 

 another to my list of the species which aspire 

 to this kind of liberal education. It was on the 

 side of Mount Clinton that I heard two Black- 

 burnians, both in full sight and within a few 

 rods of each other, who were singing two en- 

 tirely distinct songs. One of these — it is the 

 common one, I think — ended quaintly with 

 three or four short notes, like zip^ zip^ zip; 

 while the other was not unlike a fraction of the 

 winter wren's melody. Those who are familiar 

 with the latter bird will perhaps recognize the 

 phrase referred to if I call it the willie, willie, 

 winkle^ — with a triple accent on the first syl- 

 lable of the last word. Most of the songs of 

 this family are rather slight, but the extremest 

 case known to me is that of the black -poll 

 (^Dendroeca striata)^ whose zee^ zee^ zee is al- 

 most ridiculously faint. You may hear it con- 

 tinually in the higher spruce forests of the 

 White Mountains ; but you will look a good 

 many times before you discover its author, and 

 not improbably will begin by taking it for the 



