220 VIRGINIA 



heard above the noise of a pretty lively 

 brook. It is heard the better, too, because 

 of its remarkably disconnected, staccato char- 

 acter. Every note is by itself. Though the 

 bird haunts the vicinity of running water, 

 there is no trace of fluidity in its utterance. 

 No bird-song could be less flowing. It 

 neither gurgles nor runs smoothly, note 

 merging into note. • It would be too much 

 to call it declamatory, perhaps, but it goes 

 some way in that direction. At least we 

 may call it emphatic. At different times I 

 wrote it down in different words, none of 

 which could be expected to do more than 

 assist, first the writer's memory, and then 

 the reader's imagination, to recall and divine 

 the rhythm and general form of the melody. 

 For that — I speak for myself — a verbal 

 transcription, imperfect as it must be, in the 

 nature of the case, is likely to prove more 

 intelligible, and therefore more useful, than 

 any attempt to reproduce the music itself 

 by a resort to musical notation. As most 

 frequently heard here, the song consisted of 

 eight notes, like " Come — come — come — 

 come, — you 're a beauty," delivered rather 

 slowly. " Lazily " was the word I some- 



