THE SONGS OF BIRDS 



this is the case among all classes of birds; the females 

 have unmusical ears and appear to be annoyed 

 rather than charmed by the songs of the males. 

 Behold, even the hens in the yard shake their heads 

 protestingly as if it hurt their ears, as it probably 

 does, when the cockerel arches his neck and utters 

 his strident and self-satisfied challenge to all the 

 world. The females of all species are more averse to 

 noise than the males, and are less self-assertive un- 

 less the well-being of their young is at stake, when 

 they can outdo the males. Female nature is timid 

 and retiring, even in the vegetable kingdom, while 

 the male is more showy and aggressive, at least dur- 

 ing the breeding-season. The singing of birds be- 

 longs to this phase, and, I think, is no more addressed 

 to the female than it is addressed to all the world. 



It is the psean and celebration of the fecundity of 

 Nature. These colors, these ornaments, are the 

 spangles upon her garments; they are an extra 

 touch, an artistic flourish, an evidence of the festive 

 spirit that goes with the primal command to "in- 

 crease and multiply" — the one end which all na- 

 ture has most at heart. The bird sings, the cock 

 crows, the tom turkey gobbles, the prairie chicken 

 booms, the woodpecker drums, the frog croaks, the 

 crane trumpets, the stag bugles, the bull roars, the 

 insects fiddle — all instruments in the great orches- 

 tral celebration of this aboriginal impulse. 



On the same old plum-tree where the song spar- 



95 



