12 IN BIRD-LAND 



one had done only a few evenings before. Mis- 

 givings as regarded possible error were soon 

 allayed, however, for the singer himself solved 

 all doubts. 



I seem to see the singer now as plainly as then ; 

 we were standing beneath an oak, shaded from the 

 rays of the hot sun, at the entrance to a large 

 wood ; other warblers were singing also, but 

 presently a song commenced just overhead which 

 was at once recognised as the counterpart of 

 that we had heard a few evenings previously. 

 Looking upward there was the performer not 

 more than two yards away, but his song lacked 

 the great effect which night had seemed to 

 add to it. Although we stood in silent admira- 

 tion our entertainer sang on, apparently conscious 

 that listeners were near ; and when we moved on 

 we found that his song was at length drowned in 

 the full chorus of other birds which abounded in 

 the wood. 



A frequently quoted passage and one of the 

 most beautiful descriptions of this bird's song was 

 written by old Izaak Walton: "But the Nightin- 

 gale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such 

 sweet, loud music out of her little instrumental 

 throat, that it might make mankind to think 

 miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, 



