158 SPRING AT THE CAPITAL. 



about There is evidently some music in the soui 

 of this bird at this season, though he makes a sad 

 failure in getting it out. His voice always sounds as 

 if he were laboring under a severe attack of influ- 

 enza, though a large flock of them heard at a dis- 

 tance on a bright afternoon of early spring, produce 

 an effect not unpleasing. The air is filled with 

 crackling, splintering, spurting, semi-musical sounds, 

 which are like pepper and salt to the ear. 



All parks and public grounds about the city are 

 full of blackbirds. They are especially plentiful in 

 the trees about the White House, breeding there and 

 waging war on all other birds. The occupants of 

 one of the offices in the west wing of the Treasury 

 one day had their attention attracted by some object 

 striking violently against one of the window-panes. 

 Looking up, they beheld a crow-blackbird pausing in 

 mid-air, a few feet from the window. On the broad 

 stone window-sill lay the quivering form of a purple 

 finch. The little tragedy was easily read. The 

 blackbird had pursued the finch with such murderous 

 violence, that the latter, in its desperate efforts to es- 

 cape, had sought refuge in the Treasury. The force 

 of the concussion against the heavy plate-glass of the 

 mndow had killed the poor thing instantly. The 

 pursuer, no doubt astonished at the sudden and novel 

 termination of the career of its victim, hovered a 

 moment, as if to be sure of what had happened, and ' 

 made off. 



(It is not unusual for birds, when thus threatened 



