168 WILD NATURE IN STRATHEARN. 



" All silent the song of the Thrush, 



Bewilder'd she cowers in the dale; 



The Blackbird sits long on the bush, 



The fall of the leaf they bewail." 



All birds sing from love and joy, and to charm 

 their mates, having no beauty of plumage to 

 fascinate the eye ; for it may be observed that 

 all our songsters are clothed in sombre colours, 

 while 'those of a showy plumage have little song. 

 Birds sing best during the breeding season 

 the season of love. At other times we may 

 have a bright, happy song from excess of spirits 

 and general good health, the same as animates 

 the plough-boy who whistles as he drives into 

 the stackyard the golden grain. 



As the season advances, as the nights lengthen, 

 the Swallows and Martins begin to gather into 

 flocks on the house-tops, and on telegraph 

 wires that run along the railway bank, previous 

 to their departure for Africa's shore. 



The quiet, subdued autumn colours gently 

 merging into crimson, scarlet, purple, yellow, 

 and all the shades of fawn now take a 



