A BIRDS’ GALA-DAY. 145 
fay-like bird visits my woodland than the blue-gray 
gnat-catcher. Even the ruby-throated humming- 
bird, though still smaller, seems rather roly-poly 
in comparison ; and no warbler, not even the grace- 
ful redstart, can flit about so airily. One of the 
gnat-catchers in the tree-top presently darted out 
after a miller, which tried to escape by letting itself 
fall toward the ground. A vigorous drama followed. 
The bird plunged nimbly after, whirling round and 
round in a spiral course until it had secured its 
wriggling prize. 
The gnat-catcher lisps a little song, —a gossamer 
melody, it might be called. His slender voice 
has quite a “resonant tang.” On that day I did 
not take notes on his music, but the next day I 
had a good opportunity to do so; and I give the 
result, especially as no minute description of this 
_bird’s song has been recorded, so far as I know. 
I had often heard it before, but had neglected to 
listen to it intently enough to analyze its peculiar 
quality. Bending my ear upon it, I distinctly 
and unmistakably detected, besides the bird’s own 
notes, the notes of three other birds, — those of the 
cat-bird’s alarm-call, of the phoebe’s song, and of the 
goldfinch’s song and call. The imitation in each 
case was perfect, save that the gnat-catcher’s tones 
were slenderer than those of the birds whose music 
he had (if I may so speak) plagiarized. Is this 
tiny minstrel a mocker? Perhaps my description 
may be a surprise to many students of bird min- 
strelsy, but I can only say that, having listened to 
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