74 BIRDS AND POETS 
pall, darkened my day. So loud and persistent was 
the singer that his note teased and worried my ex- 
cited ear. 
“ Hearken to yon pine warbler, 
Singing aloft in the tree ! 
Hearest thou, O traveler ! 
What he singeth to me? ' 
* Not unless God made sharp thine ear 
With sorrow such as mine, 
Out of that delicate lay couldst thou 
Its heavy tale divine.”’ 
It is the opinion of some naturalists that birds 
never die what is called a natural death, but come 
to their end by some murderous or accidental means ; 
yet I have found sparrows and vireos in the fields 
and woods dead or dying, that bore no marks of 
violence; and I remember that once in my child- 
hood a red-bird fell down in the yard exhausted, 
and was brought in by the girl; its bright scarlet 
image is indelibly stamped upon my recollection. 
It is not known that birds have any distempers like 
the domestic fowls, but I saw a social sparrow one 
day quite disabled by some curious malady that 
suggested a disease that sometimes attacks pouitry ; 
one eye was nearly put out by a scrofulous-looking 
sore, and on the last joint of one wing there was a 
large tumorous or fungous growth that crippled the 
bird completely. On another occasion I picked up 
one that appeared well, but could not keep its centre 
of gravity when in flight, and so fell to the ground. 
One reason why dead birds and animals are so 
rarely found is, that on the approach of death their 
