Water Fowl 
have the accompaniment of the babbling brook, 
or the cascade’s noisy plunge; the charm is 
even heightened by the contrasting liquid 
undertones. The song that floats across the 
stream or lake acquires a richer, melting qual- 
ity ; while the fair musician, embowered among 
the trees of the secluded glen, will catch, as 
surely as the listener, new inspiration from the 
translucent pool beneath, in whose still depths 
the fringing trees appear to live again. There 
would be sad lack of harmony, however, were 
the effusion of the wren, 
‘* That crowds and hurries and precipitates, 
With fast, thick warble, his delicious notes,” 
to issue from the sandpiper on the stormy At- 
lantic coast; or if the stately heron were to 
mingle a sweet melody with the wild and end- 
less anthem of the sea; or if the gulls, now 
coursing vigorously to and fro in quest of food, 
and again, in more restful flight, slowly wheel- 
ing in ever receding circles until lost to view, 
should break their sober silence with a song. 
Beneath the despotism of the sea, the water 
fowl can only wildly cry, or be entirely dumb. 
Indeed, old ocean tolerates no rival of any 
sort in his antique sovereignty. Eyen the 
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