118 A HUNT FOR THE NIGHTINGALE. 



he had tried several times to hold his breath as long 

 as the bird did in uttering certain notes, but could 

 not do it. This, I knew, was an exaggeration ; but 

 I waited eagerly for night-fall, and when it came 

 paced the street like a patrolman, and paced other 

 streets, and lingered about other Mkely localities, but 

 caught nothing but neuralgic pains in my shoulder. 

 I had no better success in the morning, and here gave 

 over the pursuit, saying to myself, It matters little, 

 after all ; I have seen the country and had some ob- 

 ject for a walk, and that is sufficient. 



Altogether I heard the bird less than five minutes, 

 and only a few bars of its song, but enough to satisfy 

 me of the surprising quality of the strain. 



It had the master tone as clearly as Tennyson, or 

 any great prima donna, or famous orator has it. In- 

 deed, it was just the same. Here is the complete 

 artist, of whom all these other birds are but hints 

 and studies. Bright, startling, assured, of great com- 

 pass and power, it easily dominates all other notes ; 

 the harsher chur-r-r-r-rg notes serve as foil to her 

 surpassing brilliancy. Wordsworth, among the poets, 

 has hit off the song nearest : 



" Those notes of thine they pierce and pierce ; 

 Tumultuous harmony and fierce ! " 



I could easily understand that this bird might keep 

 people awake at night by singing near their houses, 

 as I was assured it frequently does : there is some- 

 thing in the strain so startling and awakening. Its 



