SEPTEMBER REVELRY 37 



come to the fact that the only song of Spring richer 

 than that of the Rufous Song-Lark is that of the 

 Rufous Whistler. "When the earth is mad with 

 song some blue September morning," no Sky-Lark 

 could jubilate with greater vigor than do these two 

 wandering minstrels, newly arrived from the north, 

 with, perhaps, the Reed-Warbler lending merry 

 support. 



The revelry of the Reed-Warbler, however, is 

 rather of the night than the day. Certainly this 

 modest-looking little bird sings finely on these 

 bright mornings of Spring, but he seems to find his 

 fullest voice on moonlit nights, or at times when 

 the sun is overcast by rain-clouds. Perhaps it is 

 better so. Most folk can be cheerful when the sun 

 of Spring is shining, but there is something distinc- 

 tive about a song-bird for whom clouds are an in- 

 spiration, and who, like the little god Love, accepts 

 the rain-tears as "bright dew-drops for his wings." 

 Here is a friend's sympathetic record of lake-side 

 eloquence on a day in Spring: 



"Che, che, che, peet, peet, Georgie, tu-whee, tur 

 whee, tu-whee, yui, yui, yui, sweet, sweet, tinkle, 

 tinkle, tinkle, wheree, wheree, wheree, cling, cling, 

 cling, wit ter, wit see, now, now, now, witchee, 

 witchee!" 



The translation seems to me to be no less faithful, 

 than, and almost as pretty as, that drawn by Mac- 

 gillivray from the voice of the English Thrush. I 

 would add only that the Reed-Warbler usually lays 

 more stress on the word "Georgie" than is indi- 

 cated; so much so that when the rich voice was 

 heard again on the early days of each September, 



