TANGLES OF BIRD-SONG. 103 



dewdrops, and gilding earth and sky with glory. 

 In the words of Bryant, it was a day — 



" In flowery June, 

 When brooks send up a cheerful tune, 

 And groves a joyful sound." 



No sooner had the sun risen than the birds be- 

 gan their matin concert. Some of my readers 

 my be disposed to doubt the fidelity of my descrip- 

 tion ; but I assure them that I am rather under- 

 stating than overstating the facts. With pencil in 

 hand, I lent my ear to the woodland orchestra, 

 trying to get a clear impression of each lyrist's 

 peculiar strain, and roughly jotting it down in my 

 notebook. To a bird lover it was Paradise. 



Let me call the bead-roll of that winged choir. 

 In the top of a tall elm the brown thrush led the 

 chorus with his varied, well-accentuated mimicry ; 

 below, in the bushes, a cat-bird vied with the 

 superior vocalist in the tree-top, falling very little 

 behind ; a song sparrow trilled his soft love-notes 

 in the willows, while another minstrel of the same 

 species disported himself on a tall bush, and sang 

 a psean worthy of his royal vocal powers ; two 

 male indigo birds chased each other pell-mell, in 

 and out, hither and yon, among the thick branches 



