THE BLACKBITID. 27 



slight moisUirc wliicli passing sliowers communi- 

 cate to the atmosphere. Tlie song is little varied, 

 but 80 mellow, so flute-like arc its tones, that few 

 who are used to the country, have failed to listen 

 with delight. It is one of the earliest songs of 

 s])ring, too, and beginning on some fine day of 

 l*\'l)niar\', it fails not all the summer through, save 

 at tlie period of moulting. We cannot, while the 

 blackbird is singing, see its jetty plumes, for it 

 chooses for its place of song the thickest and 

 most leafy part of the woodland. Could we have 

 entered that wood when the moniing sun was 

 gradually gilding each leaf and bud with its earliest 

 rays, we should have heard the loud p'eeting of 

 the blackbird, like a ])salm of thankfulness, for 

 n'n('\vc(l suiisliiiic. ■ 



At evening too, ju.st when the shadows of 

 the trees are lengthening on the gi'ound, and 

 all the h«idscape is assuming tlic faint grey 

 tints of twilight, that blackbird's evening chaunt 

 may tell to us the praises of its Maker. An 

 a])proaching footstep disturbs the bird, and the 

 sharp shrill cry which is then uttered, may be the 

 sound of soiTow or of anger. The bird is, when 

 wild, more subtle and distrustful than the song- 



