I50 IN BIRD LAND. 
in my opinion, such vocal coincidences, whether 
accidental or designed, are of rare occurrence. 
Since the foregoing observations were made and 
first published, I have often sought to prove them 
untrue, but have failed. No thrasher has ever, in 
my hearing, unmistakably plagiarized a single strain 
from his fellow-musicians. Fearing my ear for music 
might be defective, rendering me incapable of distin- 
guishing correctly the various songs of birds, I put 
myself to the test in this way: On one of the streets 
of my native town there is a brilliant mocking-bird, 
whose cage is often hung out on a veranda. Again 
and again I have stopped to listen to his ringing 
medley, and have never failed to hear him distinctly 
mimic the songs and calls of other birds, such as 
the robin, blue jay, cardinal grossbeak, and red- 
headed woodpecker. Why should I be able in- 
stantly to detect the notes of other birds in the 
mocker’s song and never once be able to detect 
them in the song of the thrasher? 
But it is fully time to return to my ramble. The 
gifted songster in the tree-top would sometimes pipe 
a strain of such exquisite sweetness that it seemed 
to surprise himself; he would pause a moment, as if 
to reflect upon it and fix it in mind for future use ; 
and erelong he would repeat it, reminding his ad- 
miring auditor of Browning’s lines on the Wise 
Thrush, — 
“He sings each song twice over, 
Lest you should think he never could recapture 
The first fine careless rapture.” 
