156 VIRGINIA 



Just a year before I had taken my fill of 

 their music on Walden's Ridge, in Tennes- 

 see. Then it became almost an old story ; 

 now, if the truth must be told, I mistook the 

 voice for a stranger's. It was much better 

 than I remembered it ; fuller, sweeter, less 

 wiry. Perhaps the birds sang better here 

 in Virginia, I tried to think ; but that com- 

 fortable explanation had nothing else in its 

 favor. It was more probable, I was bound 

 to conclude, that the superior quality of the 

 Kentucky warbler's music, which was all the 

 time in my ears on Walden's Ridge, had 

 put me unjustly out of conceit with the per- 

 formance of its less taking neighbor. At 

 all events, I now voted the latter a singer 

 of decided merit, and was ready to unsay 

 pretty much all that I had formerly said 

 against it. I went so far, indeed, as to grow 

 sarcastic at my own expense, for in my field 

 memoranda I find this entry : " The hooded 

 warbler's song is very little like the red- 

 start's, in spite of what Torrey has written." 

 Verily the pencil is mightier than the pen, 

 and a note in the field is worth two in the 

 study. Yet that, after all, is an unfair way 

 of putting the matter, since the Tennessee 



