BIRDS AND BIRDS 131 



and manners of our common sparrow are gentle and 

 retiring. The English sparrow is a street gamin, 

 our bird a timid rustic. 



The English robin redbreast is tallied in this 

 country by the bluebird, which was called by the 

 early settlers of New England the blue robin. The 

 song of the British bird is bright and aminated, that 

 of our bird soft and plaintive. 



The nightingale stands at the head in Barrington's 

 table, and is but little short of perfect in all the 

 qualities. We have no one bird that combines 

 such strength or vivacity with such melody. The 

 mockingbird doubtless surpasses it in variety and 

 profusion of notes; but falls short, I imagine, in 

 sweetness and effectiveness. The nightingale will 

 sometimes warble twenty seconds without pausing 

 to breathe, and when the condition of the air is 

 favorable its song fills a space a mile in diameter. 

 There are, perhaps, songs in our woods as mellow 

 and brilliant, as is that of the closely allied species, 

 the water- thrush ; but our bird's song has but a mere 

 fraction of the nightingale's volume and power. 



Strength and volume of voice, then, seem to be 

 characteristic of the English birds, and mildness and 

 delicacy of ours. How much the thousands of years 

 of contact with man, and familiarity with artificial 

 sounds, over there, have affected the bird voices, is 

 a question. Certain it is that their birds are much 

 more domestic than ours, and certain it is that all 

 purely wild sounds are plaintive and elusive. Even 

 of the bark of the fox, the cry of the panther, the 



