On the Cattle Ranges. 67 



It was on the plantation of Major Campbell Brown, 

 near Nashville, in the beautiful, fertile mid-Tennessee 

 country. The mocking-birds were prime favorites on the 

 place ; and were given full scope for the development, not 

 only of their bold friendliness towards mankind, but also 

 of that marked individuality and originality of character 

 in which they so far surpass every other bird as to become 

 the most interesting of all feathered folk. One of the 

 mockers, which lived in the hedge bordering the garden, 

 was constantly engaged in an amusing feud with an honest 

 old setter dog, the point of attack being the tip of the 

 dog's tail. For some reason the bird seemed to regard 

 any hoisting of the setter's tail as a challenge and insult. 

 It would flutter near the dog as he walked; the old setter 

 would become interested in something and raise his tail. 

 The bird would promptly fly at it and peck the tip ; where- 

 upon down went the tail until in a couple of minutes the 

 old fellow would forget himself, and the scene would be 

 repeated. The dog usually bore the assaults with comic 

 resignation ; and the mocker easily avoided any momentary 

 outburst of clumsy resentment. 



On the evening in question the moon was full. My 

 host kindly assigned me a room of which the windows 

 opened on a great magnolia tree, where, I was told, a 

 mocking-bird sang every night and all night long. I went 

 to my room about ten. The moonlight was shining in 

 through the open window, and the mocking-bird was 

 already in the magnolia. The great tree was bathed in a 

 flood of shining silver ; I could see each twig, and mark 

 every action of the singer, who was pouring forth such a 

 rapture of ringing melody as I have never listened to 



