IMPRESSIONS OF SOME ENGLISH BIRDS 115 



perfect keeping with the scene. The eye and the 

 ear both reported the same beauty and harmony. 

 Then the clear, rich fife of the grosbeak from the 

 tops of the tallest trees, the simple flute-like note 

 of the veery, and the sweetly ringing, wildly lyrical 

 outburst of the winter wren, sometimes from the roof 

 of our butternut-colored tent — all joining with it 

 — formed one of the most noteworthy bits of a bird 

 symphony it has ever been my good luck to hear. 

 Often at sundown, too, while we sat idly in our 

 boat, watching the trout break the glassy surface 

 here and there, the same soothing melody would be 

 poured out all around us, and kept up till darkness 

 filled the woods. The last note would be that of 

 the wood thrush, calling out "quit," ''''quit." 

 Across there in a particular point, I used at night 

 to hear another thrush, the olive-backed, the song 

 a slight variation of the veery 's. I did hear in 

 England in the twilight the robin, blackbird, and 

 song-thrush unite their voices, producing a loud, 

 pleasing chorus; add the nightingale and you have 

 great volume and power, but still the pure melody 

 of my songsters by the lake is probably not reached. 



