206 NATURE-STUDY REVIEW [14:5— May, 1918 



my yet unnamed birds from under the brush again. Though 

 beautiful it was no such flame of color as the cardinal, and what 

 had seemed a bright red before now by contrast faded into almost 

 a brown. It was about the size of the cardinal and similar in 

 shape. As it hurried back under cover it almost ran into a covey 

 of quail which I could barely see through the dense underbrush. 

 A call from a woodpecker made me look up but instead of the 

 woodpecker that had given the warning I saw a large hawk 

 circling overhead. All was quiet until he disappeared in the 

 distance and then almost immediately the birds began to hop in 

 sight and the entertainment began again. 



For an hour I watched the actors as they made "their exits 

 and their entrances," never missing their cue and never leaving 

 an empty stage. Overhead the orchestra seemed to put a finish- 

 ing touch to the scene. When was such music ever heard before ! 

 No other than the mocking bird could be "playing" so many tunes. 

 I wanted to get a glimpse of this bird of song, not that I thought 

 this was any camouflage music. No one could have doubted 

 that it was the real thing. However, he stayed well out of sight 

 in the tops of the trees. But the red bird's crest had fallen and 

 he was now singing in jealous rivalry of the unseen songster. 

 A butcher bird at my other side was performing in the air, giving 

 vent to the funniest antics, hovering over the same spot, then 

 darting one way and then the other. Down to the ground he 

 swooped and up again. His wings were going rapidly but he 

 remained in the same spot as though standing in the air — then 

 down again, a slight struggle on the ground and away he flew 

 with a good sized lizard. I thought, "What a meal!" and then 

 realizing it must be dinner time, I left the land of birds and went 

 home wondering if there was ever a more wonderful place than a 

 Florida jungle. That night I named the new comer, — Towhee. 



What cheer! 



What cheer! 

 That is the cardinal grosbeak's way, 

 With his sooty face and his coat so red; 

 Too shrill, too red, too loud and gay 

 (Top-knotted like a Jay), 

 Too crude for the critical eye and ear! 

 In a wild plum-thicket of Tennessee 

 He flung a challenge out to me. 



— Maurice Thompson in "To an English Nightingale." 



