Voices of the Night 



listening to its entrancing melody. I then understood 

 and agreed with dear old Izaak Walton when he ex- 

 claimed : " Lord, what musick hast thou provided for 

 the saints in Heaven when thou affordst bad men such 

 musick on earth." 



Some of my American bird-loving friends who have 

 had an opportunity of listening to the nightingale tell 

 me its song has been somewhat of a disappointment to 

 them. This has, in all probability, arisen from one of 

 two causes. They have either been led to expect too 

 much or have had the misfortune to listen to a young 

 and indifferent performer. Individuals of every species 

 vary almost as widely in voice power and rendering as 

 human beings, and even the same bird will vary from 

 day to day. At the beginning of the season they prac- 

 tise assiduously and improve until the high-water mark 

 of perfection has been reached, and then gradually 

 decline again until family cares and the process of 

 moulting bring silence. 



What has always puzzled me in regard to sounds is 

 that, although I have upon my shoulders the most un- 

 musical head to be found in a whole county, yet I never 

 have any difficulty in distinguishing the call notes and 

 songs of birds; whereas some of my musical friends 

 cannot detect the notes of the nightingale by day, or 

 differentiate between the vehement, purposeful utter- 

 ances of the song thrush and the mellow measured 

 pipings of the blackbird. 



Perhaps this is the result of training in two widely 

 different directions. A modern writer has declared that 



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