June 

gloomy woods. A plaintive effect is very rare 
among the song-birds, which are so generally 
keyed to merriment. The goldfinch has an 
evident touch of it, recurring now and then in 
a song that is otherwise joyous and like rippling 
laughter. One of the charms of the fox spar- 
row, too, is a subtle quality of mournfulness 
tingeing a melody that is cheerful, if not joyous. 
But the pewee’s note is like a faint, despairing 
cry, not so desperate as to agonize the listener, 
and yet appealing strongly to his sympathies. 
It appears to be the most disconsolate of all 
the family, the victim of chronic melancholia. 
What a contrast to the hilarious disposition of 
the ruby-crowned kinglet and the chickadee, 
that bubble over with songful laughter ! 
If the appeal of the sorrowing pewee can 
haunt one in the daytime, infusing a shadow 
into the sunlight, how much more potent its 
effect when heard in the congenial twilight. 
One day at sundown I wandered through some 
woods that were filled with the songs of birds. 
It almost seemed that Nature was devout, and 
this, her vesper-service; and as the strain of 
the cheery song sparrow, the noble and mel- 
low carol of the robin, and the strangely rich 
and liquid tones of the wood thrush, one by 
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