62 THE MARVELOUS SONG. 



ing to rise above him. In this he was not al- 

 ways successful, not being particularly expert 

 on the wing, though I have two or three times 

 seen the smaller bird actually rest on the back 

 of the foe for three or four seconds at a time. 



The song of the free mocking-bird ! With it 

 ringing in my ear at this moment, after having 

 feasted upon it and gloried in it day and night 

 for many weeks, how can I criticise it ! How 

 can I do otherwise than fall into rhapsody, as 

 does almost every one who knows it and de- 

 lights in it, as I do ! It is something for which 

 one might pine and long, as the Switzer for the 

 Ranz-des-Vaches, and the more one hears it the 

 more he loves it. I think there will never 

 come a May in my life when I shall not long 

 to fold my tent and take up my abode in the 

 home of the mocking-bird, and yet I cannot 

 say what many do. For variety, glibness, and 

 execution the song is marvelous. It is a bril- 

 liant, bewildering exhibition, and one listens in 

 a sort of ecstasy almost equal to the bird's own, 

 for this, it seems to me, is the secret of the 

 power of his music ; he so enjoys it himself, he 

 throws his whole soul into it, and he is so mag- 

 netic that he charms a listener into belief that 

 nothing can be like it. His manner also lends 

 enchantment ; he is seldom still. If he begins 

 in a cedar-tree, he soon flies to the fence, sing- 



