THE OOLOGIST. 



65. 



Inoessancy of the Yellow Warbler's Song. 



The Yellow Warbler [Dcndroica (es- 

 tiva) arrives iu these parts on the first 

 day of May, or perhaps a day or two 

 earlier or later, The tii'st notice we 

 have of his arrival, is his sprightly little 

 soug which immediately attracts our 

 attention, and from this time on, 

 whether from the Avillows by the brook, 

 from the depths of the forest, from the 

 thickets adjacent, from the bushes by 

 the roadside, or from the trees of the 

 dooryard, this song is one of the com- 

 monest sounds of nature throughout 

 the summer months. 



No bird we have is such an untiring, 

 persistent, all-the-Avhile singer, as the 

 Yellow Warbler. 



Most birds confine their song princi- 

 pally to the morning and evening hours, 

 and if they do not do this entirely, they 

 surely quiet down at midday, when 

 scai'cely a sound is to be heard, but not 

 so the Yellow Warbler, — morning, noon 

 and night, he keeps it up, and the in- 

 cessancy of his singing has become to 

 be a matter of remark. Mayna.'d in 

 his "Birds of Eastern North America" 

 speaks particularly of the persistency 

 of the Yellow Warbler's song, especially 

 during the breeding period. 



But unceasing as is eesliva's song, we 

 wouldn't think much about it until we 

 began to notice it more closely. The^' 

 say that "Facts are stubborn things 

 and figures don't lie." Now I have 

 comi)ilcd some figures in regard to I), 

 aesliva's singing that may prove inter- 

 esting. [I presume that I should have 

 compiled this article in more scientific 

 shape and sent it to the "Auk'' under 

 some such title as this: "Computation of 

 the Relative Incessancy of the Song of 

 Bendroica a'stiva."] But those iigures. 

 Last summer a pair of tiicsc^ birds look 

 up their abode in my garden, and then; 

 reared their young. Diu'ing all tiiis 

 time, the male was constantly gh-aning 

 food among the shrubbery about llie 



house and garden, and his song was 

 continually in my ears. All day long, 

 or nearly so, it woidd keep up its pleas- 

 ing tune at the rate of six vocal per- 

 formances everj^ minute. With the use 

 of my watch, I found that every ten 

 seconds, on an average, he would give 

 utterance to his song, and that just be- 

 fore the close of every minute, his sixth 

 song would come, and i-o six utterances 

 a minute is his usual rate. Now let us 

 figure on this. Six songs a minute, 

 are 360 an hour. Let us say that he 

 begins to sing at 6 a. m. and sings until 

 7 p.m. This is certainly generous, for 

 of a summer morning, he begins to 

 sing as early as 4:30. But granting him 

 from 6 a. m. to 7 p. m., we will next 

 allow him one hour's silence for break- 

 fast and the same time for dinner and 

 supper, and we will also give him a 

 generous allowance of an hour's resting 

 spell in the middle of the afternoon 

 (But it is a fact that he sings at all his, 

 meals, and doesn't take any rest at all.) 

 But with these generous allowances, 

 what is the result? Why, during the, 

 lapse of one short day he has sung us3,- 

 240 little songs. They are all the same to, 

 be sure, but none the less pleasing for all 

 that. 3,240. A wonder he didn't wear 

 his throat out before night, or at least, 

 sing himself hoarse. 



And what does this represent? 3,240 

 little outbursts of happiness. 3,240 ex- 

 pressions of self-content and satisfac- 

 tion with everything around him, and 

 3,240 bits of cheer and encouragement 

 to all who listen. 



O, what a lesson for us of llie genus 

 //o?//o to learn. If we would only look 

 on the bright side of things, and do a 

 little more singing, and the world 

 would be 3,240 times brighter and hap- 

 l)ier. 



But Lam drifting. Do yen care to 

 figure a'SliTd's singing by the week, 

 with the same charitable allowaneesV 

 Then you have 22.()i^0 of his ditties, and 

 at the same :iv('ragc rate, he would 



