THE SINGERS 63 



is more sympathetic to their notes. Or, if not, it 

 may be that the birds themselves are stronger then. 



The frail little willow wren, however, does not 

 vary so much as the cirl buntings and thrushes 

 at least, the ear does not detect much difference 

 between willow wrens. We cannot be too near the 

 willow wren in song. To have this song at its best 

 we should stand within three or four yards of the 

 sylph, and not only hear but see the singer. The 

 ruffling of the throat feathers and the way in which 

 the sylph clearly puts all its little might into the 

 thing make a dainty sight. 



The willow wren's appearance when singing assures 

 us if we can come close enough that there is 

 nothing faint or half-hearted about the performer. 

 Meek, gentle, and pathetic seem right terms to apply 

 to the willow wren. Yet I believe it is, like the 

 high burnished chaffinch of May, a bit of burning 

 life. 



By mid-August various birds begin to break the 

 silence they have kept for a month. But there is 

 one delightful exception to the bird silence at the 

 end of July and the opening of August, the willow 

 wren's. For about a month after mid-summer it is 

 quiet as a nightingale. The one sound the willow 

 wren makes in the woods and shrubberies is the 

 poignant " wheet " when the nest or flown young 

 are approached ; it is a sound that bespeaks uneasi- 

 ness, alarm ; yet, uttering it, the bird is flitting from 



