FRIENDS IN FEATHERS 



I was sorry to have missed that. I think a Quail call, the 

 Boh White whistle, beautiful. It is mellow, musical, inflected 

 to a nicety, and it is always so cheerful and happy. I like Quail 

 love-making, too; those soft, tender faint wisps of sound, those 

 cheeps and peeps and gently-murmured things. In fact, the 

 only note a Quail makes which I do not like is his alarm-cry, and 

 I dislike to hear that from any bird. 



I am sorry our legislators do not put Quail among song birds. 

 Their plumage is much handsomer than some of our choicest 

 singers; they are graceful and elegant on foot, while their music 

 every one knows and loves. Only a note shorter and only a 

 degree less melodious than the Lark, which is of finer flavour as 

 food ; yet the soul sickens at the thought of such sacrilege in the 

 case of the Lark why not the Quail also?* 



I love these two birds which I always think of together. 

 They use the breast of earth in common in the business of living. 

 The notes of their songs are syllabicated the clearest and enun- 

 ciated the purest of any of our singers. But the Lark is the bird 

 of Heaven, the Quail is of the very earth. Soaring on wing 

 the Lark seems to catch the breath of divine inspiration in his 

 note that enthralls and uplifts the spirit. Keeping close to the 

 dark earth, the Quail draws from it strength and courage, which 

 so tincture his tones as to renew hope and cheer in our tired 

 hearts and set them singing with him. 



"Bob, Bob White! Bob, Bob White!" How beautifully it 

 pipes up from meadow-grass and clover! How it softens and 

 quivers with the passion of mating! How it swells and rings 

 when flung as a challenge to a rival from stumps and fences! 

 How it comes sweeping in certain, steady tones on the breast of 

 the river ! What would summer be to lovers of field and stream 

 without it? How little children everywhere love and try to 



*The Ohio Legislature of 1917 has just placed Quail among song birds. 



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