"That song, though one of the most slen- 

 der and wiry m all our forests, is as dis- 

 tinguishable as the hum of the cicada 

 or the shrilling of the katydid. Tree- 

 tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-tree, rapidly 

 uttered, the monotonous notes of equal 

 length, beginning very softly, gradually 

 increasing to the middle of the strain 



and then as gradually diminishing, thus 

 forming a fine musical swell — may con- 

 vey a fair idea of the song. There is a 

 peculiar soft and tinkling sweetness m 

 this melody, suggestive of the quiet mys- 

 teries of the forest and sedative as an 

 anodvne to the nerves." 



TRAGEDY OF THE AIR. 



Sweet voices midst the blossoms; 



Amidst the meadow-blooms; 

 Midst mallow-buds and sedges; 



Midst flower-hearts by their looms; 

 Through vistas of the forests, 



Round minaret and dome, 

 The mists of mountain torrents; 



Through rainbows of the foam; 

 Above the rush of waters; 

 Above the swirl of seas; 

 Through labyrinths of maremma— 



Ah yes, and more than these — 

 Yet flashes out a remnant 



Of bird-wings on the air, 

 Or floats the song-birds' rhythms 



Midst slaughter and despair. 

 Is there no human pity? 



In all the world so wide 

 Can nothing stay the slaughter, 



Can nothing stem the tide 

 Before, from Nature's pageant, 



All bird-life joy is crushed; 

 Before the wings lie broken 

 Before the songs are hushed? 



George Klingle. 



163 



