The High Prieata 



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THE reveille has sounded. That single 

 clear, penetrating robin note announces 

 the opening of day in bird-land. Only half-past 

 three of the clock as hours are reckoned with us, 

 but it is time to be stirring if we would attend 

 matins in the grove. The forms of the celebrants 

 are shrouded in the misty gray of early morning, 

 but no shadowy veil can intercept the glorious 

 voices. For one brief instant only the intoner's 

 notes were heard ; now his voice blends with the 

 songs of hundreds of his kind. But even in the 

 swelling of the chorus it is possible to recognize 

 many distinct bands of musicians, and an occasion- 

 al lull or ebb of song secures a hearing for the 

 sweet small voices whose value is not recognized 

 in the universal chorus, though the great harmo- 

 nious whole would be incomplete without them. 

 Those wonderful flute-like notes with their 

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