82 SYLVAN SECBETS. 



speaking of this, Buff on says: "When it 

 gives full freedom to its voice in bursts 

 wherein the sounds are at first full and bril- 

 liant, then softening down by degrees, and 

 finally dying out and losing themselves alto- 

 gether in a silence as charming as the rarest 

 melody, then it is that one sees it hover 

 gently above its perch, slowly slackening the 

 motion of its wings, and resting quiet at last, 

 as if suspended in mid-air." But I have seen 

 it go far beyond even this extraordinary per- 

 formance, and slowly fall to the ground, 

 panting, and apparently exhausted from the 

 effect of its ecstatic climax of exertion. Dur- 

 ing many visits to the coast of the Gulf of 

 Mexico in the spring, I have availed myself 

 of ample opportunity to study this Shakes- 

 peare of the birds, and I have concluded, 

 from what I think sufficient proof, that the 

 mocking-bird sings, consciously at times, 

 for the purpose of gaining the favor of man. 

 One thing is easily noted: Its song, sung close 

 to human habitations — in the vines and or- 

 chards and gardens of man's planting — is not 

 the same song it sings in the wild depths of 

 the Southern woods. I was so struck with 

 this that I put it to the test in every way I 

 could, and I got so familiar with the differ- 

 ence that, while wandering in the lonely 

 forests, I could know when I was nearing a 

 settler's clearing or a negro's cabin by the 

 peculiar notes of the mocking-birds. All 

 along the charming gulf -coast from Mobile to 

 Bay St. Louis, or, in the other direction, to St. 

 Mark's and Tallahassee, there is not a cot, no 

 matter how lonely or lowly, provided it has 

 a fig-tree, that there is not a pair of mocking- 

 birds to do it honor. The Scuppernong 

 vineyards, too, are the concert-halls of this 



