228 A BIRD-LQVER’S APRIL. 
lisping zee, zee ; and even on that occasion (in 
June and in New Hampshire) the song bore no 
resemblance to his present effort. I have writ- 
ten it down as it sounded at the moment, Sue, 
suky, suky, five notes, the first longer than the 
others, and all of them brusque, loud, and mu- 
sical, though with something of a warbler 
quality.1 
It surprised me to find how the migratory 
movement lagged for the first half of the month. 
A pair of white-breasted swallows flew over my 
head while I was attending to the winter wren 
on the 11th, and on the 14th appeared the first 
pine -creeping warblers,— welcome for their 
own sakes, and doubly so as the forerunners of 
a numerous and splendid company ; but aside 
from these two, I saw no evidence that a single 
1 Still further to corroborate my ‘‘pet theory,’’ I may say here 
in a foot-note, what I have said elsewhere with more detail, that 
before the end of the following month the hermit thrushes, the 
olive-backed thrushes, and the gray-cheeked thrushes all sang for 
me in my Melrose woods. 
Let me explain, also, that when I call the brown creeper a silent 
migrant I am not unaware that others beside myself, and more 
than myself, have heard him sing while traveling. Mr. William 
Brewster, as quoted by Dr. Brewer in the History of North Amer- 
ican Birds, has been exceptionally fortunate in this regard. But 
my expression is correct as far as the rule is concerned; and the 
latest word upon the subject which has come under my eye is this - 
from Mr. E. P. Bicknell’s ‘‘ Study of the Singing of our Birds,’’ in 
The Auk for April, 1884: ‘‘ Some feeble notes, suggestive of those 
of Regulus satrapa, are this bird’s usual utterance during its visit. 
Its song I have never heard.”’ 
