92 STORIES OF BIRD LIFE 



that they must be conscious of the power of their numbers 

 from the bold, defiant manner in which the music will 

 often come from a dozen or more throats within hearing 

 at one time, drowning in its volume the notes of all other 

 denizens of the fields and shrubbery. The bird revels in 

 the glory of his vocal strength, and shouts his ringing 

 challenge to the trees, the flowers, the very sky itself. 



Watch the mocking bird some spring mornitfg as with 

 ruffled feathers and drooping wings he sits on the topmost 

 bough of a neighboring tree and pours out the beautiful 

 story of his love. At times the very intensity of the music 

 within his breast lifts him many feet into the air. With 

 dangling legs and carelessly flopping wings he drops again 

 to his perch, singing the while. Anon he descends to the 

 earth for a moment, a few rapid hops in the grass and he 

 bounds again into the air with scarcely an intermission in 

 his song. Music high and low, loud and soft, hilarious 

 and sad, with never a hesitation, never a false note, is what 

 falls to your ears as you hearken to this wonderful, master- 

 ful fellow, the music-prince of the southern highways and 

 groves. 



However, it is at night that the mocking bird is at his 

 best. If he is the music-prince of the grove by day, he is 

 the song-king of the lawn by night. When all the world is 

 hushed save the faint murmur of distant pines, and the 



