THE MOCKING BIRD. 71 



per, of the Nightingale, but equally as ap- 

 propriate to the subject of our remarks. On 

 a warm bright night in June, a wanderer in 

 our streets might hear the shrill scream of 

 the eagle bursting on his ear, the delicate 

 warble of the spring-tide blue bird, the moan- 

 like note of the turtle dove, followed by the 

 cackling of the domestic hen, and the quar- 

 relling of a dozen cats, seeming to vie with 

 each other as to the quantity of noise. Now 

 the mellow whistle of the cardinal, or red 

 bird, another favorite, the scolding of the 

 wren, the cry of the katy-did, the grunt of 

 some maternal swine, anxiously perambu- 

 lating the neighboring alley, in search of 

 some of her juvenile porkers, some rusty 

 tavern sign, with the shrill pipe of the canary ; 

 the school boy's whistle, and the cry of some 

 forlorn puppy, wailing to the midnight air, 

 succeed each other with such rapidity, that 

 the listener pauses, wondering that such va- 

 riety can proceed from so small an object. 

 Now the shrill clarion of the cock is heard, 

 while the servants, in hearing, awaken, at 

 the too early approach of dawn ; then the 

 watchman's rattle creaks upon the ear, 

 scaring the burglar from his prey, or the 

 loafer into flight ; a bar or two of some fa- 

 vorite air, with the cries of various other 

 birds, once heard, never forgotten ; a cloud 

 passes over the moon, and our songster is as 

 silent as the grave. 



For the cage, young birds taken from the 

 nest, are best adapted, since they are accus- 



