FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF MIAMI 87 



All in all, notwithstanding the woods are alive 

 with wings, there is surprisingly little music. 

 The season of song is not yet come. Phoebes, for 

 some reason, form a bright exception to the rule, 

 and now and then a cardinal grosbeak whistles 

 with a sweetness that beggars words. Twice, I 

 think, I have heard a distant mockingbird sing- 

 ing, and yesterday, in front of the hotel, I stopped 

 to watch a pair that seemed to be in what I 

 should call a decidedly lyrical mood, though they 

 were silent as dead men. They stood on the 

 pavement a foot or so apart, and took turns in a 

 very original and pretty kind of dance. One and 

 then the other suddenly hopped straight upward 

 for an inch or two, both feet at once. Between 

 whiles they stood motionless, or sometimes one 

 (always the same) moved a little away from its 

 partner. Plainly they were much in earnest, and 

 without question the ceremony, simple, and al- 

 most laughable, as it looked, had some deep and 

 perfectly understood significance. Bitualism is 

 not confined to churches. Everywhere the heart 

 speaks by attitude and gesticulation. 



A noble concert it will be when all these thou- 

 sands of song birds recover their voices. May I 

 be here to enjoy it. For the present I am con- 

 tented to wait. It is sufficient just now to be in 

 so strange a land in so lovely a season, with 



