308 ANNUAL EEPORT SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION, 191o. 



appointingly Aveak and squealy song. Members of the trlstk group, 

 however, are to me the finest singers of the whole genus, trilling, 

 piping, and warbling with the greatest abandon and purity of tone. 

 They are shy singers, and rarely to be heard except after long 

 silence in one spot. P. jaTnaicensis, heard with a divine accompani- 

 ment of solitaires, lost nothing of its beauty by the comparison. 

 The related genus 3Ielanotls, the "blue mockers," are accomplished 

 and brilliant singers, with much of the well-knoAvn quality of all 

 mockingbirds. But they rank very high, as do the members of the 

 interesting Antillean group, Mimoclchla. I shall never forget a 

 concert I once heard on New Province, in the Bahamas. We were 

 out in the " coppet," or woods, collecting, in the afternoon. About 

 4 o'clock a drenching thunderstorm broke, and for an hour w^e were 

 subjected to as thorough a wetting as could be desired, and most of 

 our efforts went toward keeping our specimens from getting soaked. 

 After a time, however, it stopped almost as suddenly as it had 

 begun, and through the breaking sky the level rays of a declining 

 sun reddened the straight columns of the pines and glistened from 

 the w'et and shining foliage of the broad-leaved trees. Suddenly, 

 and so robin-like that I was for a moment quite moved, there com- 

 menced a chorus of delicious and brilliant singing that I have no 

 similar recollection of. It was from the "blue thrasher," Mimo- 

 clchla plumbea^ and for a few breathless moments we were carried 

 into an enchanted realm that it is still a joy to remember. The 

 music was no less scintillating than its clean and glistening setting. 

 It is perhaps too bad, and a sign of limitation that we should hesi- 

 tate to admit, that the songs that please us most are apt to be those 

 that perfect or glorify songs we already know at home. It may 

 even not be true, but I think, nevertheless, that no bird songs have 

 ever given me a more Avelcome turn of heart than some of these 

 tropical thrushes, which carry farther the lovely qualities of intona- 

 tion so richly present in our hermit thrush's song. The group 

 known as Catharus^ true thrushes, haunt the moist, ferny mountain 

 forests, and from, the quiet fragrance of these silent places come 

 the exquisite silvery bell tones of their songs. They sing from the 

 ground or very near it, and never have I heard them lift their voices 

 high. But their tone is more pure, their delivery more perfect, and 

 their chaste cadences more prismatic and rich than those of any other 

 thrush I know, and I should find it hard to pick the slightest rift 

 within the lute. It is upon these tender, ineffably sweet flutings that 

 I base my concept of a perfect bird song. 



