mbere tbe f^ocMng^biv^ Sin^s 



most delicate and all but ludicrous jig- 

 steps in a narrow circle, singing mean- 

 time a medley that sparkled with notes 

 and phrases stolen bodily from the songs 

 of other birds. 



It was here that, after several seasons 

 of patient watching and disappointment, I 

 witnessed once again in its fullest perfec- 

 tion the performance of the dropping-song, 

 and satisfied myself as to the origin of the 

 ecstasy out of which that strange lyric prod- 

 uct is generated. The exhibition opened in 

 this case with a long, singularly pure trill 

 from a bird standing upright with tightly 

 closed wings on a small bushy magnoHa- 

 tree. The moment that the voice reached 

 my ear I felt sure that the dropping-song 

 was coming. Something in the strange, 

 appealing richness of the tone foretold a 

 masterpiece of bird-music. I crept to a 

 spot where I had unobstructed view of the 

 performer, and almost held my breath as 

 I looked and hstened. In spite of the 

 reporter's mood in which for two or three 

 years I had longed for the occasion, I 

 could hardly bring myself to the task of 

 88 



