In God*s Acre 



79 



and there with the sun shining full on his scarlet coat, he sang 

 and whistled in the perfect ecstasy of Hving. He soon had 

 an audience, for from all parts of the burial-ground the people 

 gathered, attracted by the magic of the voice. Had that 

 southern songster dared to give that solo in Lincoln Park I 

 should have trembled for his life, but within the cemetery 

 walls I felt that he was safe. There are people who, when 

 looking at the bright plumage of a bird or listening to its 

 sweet song, can think of only one of two things, killing it or 

 caging it. I heard expressed that afternoon, while the gros- 

 beak was singing, a dozen wishes: "I'd like to have that fel- 

 low in a cage." It is my sincere belief that the first bird 

 that Adam saw was pecking at a cherry, and that the first 

 bird that Eve saw was some scarlet tanager flashing across a 

 sunlit meadow. Adam said, "The bird is a thief"; Eve 

 said, "The bird is a beauty." From that day to this the 

 hand of man and the head of woman have been against the 

 bird. 



The female cardinal is as musical as her mate, though she 

 has but a small share of his beauty. When the male cardi- 

 nal had tired his throat with his singing that afternoon the 

 female took up the strain and sang alone for fully five min- 

 utes. Then she joined the male and together they flew 

 beyond the cemetery walls where I was afraid their beauty 

 of plumage and voice would invite destruction. I heard from 

 a friend, however, that the cardinals were again in Graceland a 

 few days later. 



In late April, 1900, the evening grosbeaks put in an appear- 

 ance in Graceland cemetery. They were found by two mem- 

 bers of the Audubon Society who were out on a search for 

 spring birds. The evening grosbeak is in its coloring one of 



