Northern Observations of Inland Birds 233 



the wagtail's song — it is sung in such a minor key that 

 one may pass in the stillness of evening within twelve 

 feet of the singer and never hear it. That, perhaps, is 

 the best part of the song, he sings it to himself and to 

 her, and he and she, no doubt, understand it. No one 

 else can, which does not matter much, because no one in 

 particular hears. It is like the famous novelist's first 

 story — its distinguishing merits lie in its shortness, and 

 in the fact that the world never knows it. Perhaps we 

 need not say more about the wagtail's song. It is a 

 poetry of its own, no doubt, but a poetry beyond our dull 

 appreciation. And perhaps we may love him a little more 

 for the harmony he so wisely chooses to whisper. 



In some localities the pied wagtail is called the dish- 

 washer, though it is difficult to see just how the supposed 

 simile applies. Doubtless the habit of bobbing at the 

 water's edge has something to do with it. 



It is pleasant to watch one of these birds running about 

 the hly pads, and alighting with the utmost confidence 

 on floating matter so slight that one wonders how it 

 bears his weight. He seems to know exactly just how 

 far he can go, and like the bear and the monkey moving 

 from branch to branch, he never ventures an insecure 

 foothold. 



Of our three wagtails, the pied, the grey, and the 

 yellow, the appellation water wagtail should rightly 

 belong to the grey, rather than to the member of the 

 family with which we have just dealt. For the pied 

 wagtail belongs to the water only when it is drawn there 

 by food requirements, whereas the grey wagtail is a water 

 bird at all times. Mountain streams, beloved of the 

 dipper, are its true habitat, and for this reason it may 

 be regarded as the angler's bird. It is not so well known 

 as the pied, but among those who know it, it is regarded 

 with even greater affection, For, while possessing all 



