SPRING AT THE CAPITAL. 187 



heard there all the forenoon. The song of 

 some birds is like scarlet, strong, intense, 

 emphatic. This is the character of the or- 

 chard starlings; also of the tanagers and 

 the various grossbeaks. On the other hand, 

 the songs of other birds, as of certain of 

 the thrushes, suggest the serene blue of the 

 upper sky. 



In February, one may hear, in the Smith- 

 sonian grounds, the song of the fox-sparrow. 

 It is a strong, richly modulated whistle, 

 the finest sparrow note I have ever heard. 



A curious and charming sound may be 

 heard here in May. You are walking forth 

 in the soft morning air, when suddenly there 

 comes a burst of bobolink melody from some 

 mysterious source. A score of throats pour 

 out one brief, hilarious, tuneful jubilee, and 

 are suddenly silent. There is a strange re- 

 moteness and fascination about it. Pres- 

 ently you discover its source skyward, and a 

 quick eye will detect the gay band pushing 

 northward. They seem to scent the fragrant 

 meadows afar off, and shout forth snatches 

 of their songs in anticipation. 



The bobolink does not breed in the Dis- 

 trict, but usually pauses in his journey, and 

 feeds during the day in the grass-lands north 



