A Book on Birds 



fling their identity at you, more or less 

 melodiously, every time they open their 

 mouths to sing. And if you fail to get 

 acquainted with these very early in your 

 career, it will not be their fault at all. 



Then there are many others to whom 

 poets, and prose writers also, though they 

 have not in fact given names, have attached 

 delightful words and phrases that will 

 cling to them always and will assist you 

 just as much in your questing. 



The Maryland Yellow-throat, for in- 

 stance, first discovered himself to me only 

 when I realized, with sudden pleasure, that 

 he was warbling, "Witchery, witchery, 

 witchery, witchery !'' over and over again. 



Moreover, he indeed was one of those 

 with whom I made assurance doubly sure, 

 and satisfactory, by permitting my own 

 personal fancy and power of invention 

 to participate in the experience — the bird 

 seeming, after a while on this well-remem- 

 bered occasion, to say, "Jessica, Jessica, 

 Jessica, Jessica!'^ to a certain member 

 of our party quite as plainly as the other 



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