THE NIGHTINGALE 



This is the master artist , the very king 

 of singing birds. It is small in size, greyish 

 white and reddish brown in garb, it makes no 

 outward show and ought never to be seen 

 but from the distance. It needs the soft 

 twilight of the moon, the mystery of the leafy 

 forest or the darkness of night; but beneath that 

 more than humble garb is hidden a poet's nature, 

 a most passionate soul, served by a most marvelous 

 instrument. 



Already in the sixteenth century did old Belon be- 

 come almost lyrical in speaking of the nightingale : 

 « \\Micn the trees of the forest arc covered with green, the 



