VI. THE TAILOR-BIRD. 



"Singer and Tailor am /." Kipling. 



HEREIN, and in the pretty stanza that follows, our poet 

 sadly flatters the Tailor-bird, for any one who waits to 

 hear " durzee " sing will have much the same experience 

 as Mark Twain's young pilgrim in Palestine, who was 

 discovered waiting patiently for a vocal effort on the part 

 of a mud-turtle, on the strength of the text " the voice of 

 the turtle is heard in the land." Singer our small cock- 

 tailed friend is not, though his note is something astonish- 

 ing for loudness, and gives reason, as has been justly re- 

 marked, for thankfulness that the elephant does not 

 possess a voice in like proportion. Orthotomus sutorius, 

 however, doubtless feels that as the only member of the 

 melodious family of warblers commonly seen about here, it 

 is due to his position to make his presence felt. So, when 

 the spirit moves him, he shouts ' ' to-whee, to-whee, to- 

 whee," with such vigour that he gets black on the side of 

 the neck, having a cunningly concealed patch of that 

 colour there which only shows when he is calling. Mrs. 

 Durzee, no doubt, admires both hue and cry, for, unlike 

 most of our warblers at home, Durzee goes in for conspicu- 

 ous superiority to his mate, at any rate in the breeding 

 season, for then he alone sports a tail about twice the usual 

 length, and "elegantly tapered off. Except for this, the 



