BROWSINGS IN OTHER FIELDS. 233 
starling’s song. He begins in a low, subdued tone, 
and seems at first to be quite calm ; but gradually he 
grows excited, his body quivers and sways from side 
to side, his neck is craned out, his throat expands and 
contracts convulsively, and, oh! oh! oh !—pardon 
the exclamations —the hurly-burly that gurgles and 
ripples and bubbles and pours from his windpipe! 
At one point a double sound is produced, or two 
sounds nearly at the same moment, — one low and 
guttural, the other on a higher key, — presently a 
half-dozen notes rush forth pell-mell, accompanied 
by a quick snapping of the mandibles; then a suc- 
cession of loud, musical, explosive notes fall on the 
ear; and finally the bird, as if in a spasm of ecstasy, 
opens his mouth wide and utters a clear, rapturous 
trill as a sort of musical peroration. It is simply 
wonderful. At first the bird seems to control the 
song, but erelong the song seems to master the bird 
completely. To my mind, it seemed that the song- 
ster in the intervals of silence had wound up his 
music-box, and then, having got started, was unable 
to stop until the spring had run down. Some of 
the notes of the strain were quite melodious, while 
others were rather grating. 
But what was that silvery song, rising above all 
the other clangor of music ? It was the trill of my 
peerless little friend, the white-throated sparrow, 
which I have met so often in my own woodland 
trysts. Were I to award the prize to any bird in 
the whole Zoo for sweetness of tone, it would cer- 
tainly be given to this matchless minstrel. No other 
