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OLD PLYMOUTH TRAILS 



distinct as that of a new continent. A flight of 

 pine warblers was on and the oaks and pitch pines 

 were alive with them. The j uncos had gone 

 north to nest in flocks of thousands, in a wonder 

 of full song, all eagerly pressing on towards the 

 hills but they left their songs behind them, as 

 it were, to be sung by the other birds. In the 

 pastures and cultivated fields the chipping spar- 

 rows, newly arrived from the South, took up 

 the trill with an accent of their own, and all the 

 pine warblers sang it, each with an individuality 

 that slightly but clearly marked him from his fel- 

 low. I think all birds show this slight but defi- 

 nite individuality in manner and voice and are 

 probably known to their neighbors of the same 

 clan, as we are, each by his voice. And even so 

 simple and definite a thing as the pine warbler's 

 song may be varied by the individual singer from 

 time to time. I heard one fine bird singing in 

 the stereotyped form. As he sang a flicker 

 flicked in the distance. Whereupon the pine 

 warbler sang again, the same trill but with a tit- 

 tering twang about it that just jocosely imitated 

 the flicker. I saw no other warbler or other 

 bird near enough to be the beneficiary of this 



