THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS 7 



Robin-redbreast, with whom he associates both at 

 this season and in the autumn, is the gold-winged 

 woodpecker, alias "high-hole," alias "flicker," 

 alias "yarup." He is an old favorite of my boy- 

 hood, and his note to me means very much. He 

 announces his arrival by a long, loud call, repeated 

 from the dry branch of some tree, or a stake in 

 the fence, a thoroughly melodious April sound. 

 I think how Solomon finished that beautiful de- 

 scription of spring, "And the voice of the turtle is 

 heard in the land," and see that a description of 

 spring in this farming country, to be equally char- 

 acteristic, should culminate in like manner, "And 

 the call of the high-hole comes up from the wood." 

 It is a loud, strong, sonorous call, and does riot 

 seem to imply an answer, but rather to subserve 

 some purpose of love or music. It is "Yarup's* 

 proclamation of peace and goodwill to all. On 

 looking at the matter closely, I perceive that most 

 birds, not denominated songsters, have, in the 

 spring, some note or sound or call that hints of a 

 song, and answers imperfectly the end of beauty 

 and art. As a "livelier iris changes on the bur- 

 nished dove," and the fancy of the young man 

 turns lightly to thoughts of his pretty cousin, so 

 the same renewing spirit touches the "silent sing- 

 ers," and they are no longer dumb; faintly they 

 lisp the first syllables of the marvelous tale. Wit- 

 ness the clear, sweet whistle of the gray-crested 

 titmouse, the soft, nasal piping of the nuthatch, - 

 the amorous, vivacious warble of the bluebird, 



