236 EARLY MORNING STUDIES 



A quiet retreat in New Hampshire, in 

 sight of Chocorua, made famous by our la- 

 mented Frank Bolles, offered me a peculiar 

 and more musical morning attraction, 

 nothing less than the song of the barn- 

 swallow. Not the low, sweet utterance we 

 are familiar with from our bird of the hay- 

 loft, but strangely loud and clear, and poured 

 out with all the freedom and abandon of a 

 bobolink. It was such an exhibition of this 

 bird's musical ability as I have seldom heard. 

 The reason seemed to be that in that neigh- 

 borhood he had to sustain almost the entire 

 burden of song, the only other bird common 

 about the place being the cedar-waxwing, 

 who rarely speaks above a whisper. This 

 being the case, the barn-swallow rose to the 

 occasion and assumed his role with spirit, 

 not only showing himself social and lively 

 about the house, but blossoming out as a 

 really brilliant singer, capable of furnishing 

 a morning song to enchant the most critical 

 audience. Perching himself on the peak of 

 the roof over a dormer window, and standing 

 up very straight on his tiny black legs, 

 contrary to the family custom of sitting, 



