LEARNING BIRDS' SONGS 69 



By this time the vesper sparrow is with us, in dry 

 fields, and it will be well to take pains to distinguish 

 his song, somewhat similar, yet perhaps sweeter and 

 more subdued. The meadowlark's plaintive whistle 

 and chucklings come from yonder field, and the red- 

 winged blackbird splutters away in the meadow. 

 From the orchard, or often from the skies above, 

 comes the ethereal warbling of the bluebird, so char- 

 acteristic, so welcome. In extreme contrast are the 

 harsh duckings of the grackle, or their wheezy creak- 

 ings, as is the similar " wheel-barrow " chorus from 

 the flock of migrant rusty grackles in the tree on the 

 edge of the swamp, and the ludicrous " cluck-see " 

 of the cowbird, wrung forth by great convulsion of 

 the body, is not much better. 



The throaty little " phe-be " of the phoebe on the 

 shed roof or the old bridge is very different from the 

 clear " pee-wee-e " whistle sometimes produced by the 

 chickadee in late winter, giving to many the false im- 

 pression that phoebe is wintering in the cold North. 

 This is the season when the simple, chippy-like trill 

 of the junco is heard in the land, before it departs 

 for Canada. The soft cooings of the mourning dove 

 are wafted on the breeze from the edge of the wood- 

 land, " coo-oo-o," sounding much like the great 

 horned owl in the distance. We hear the faint lisp- 

 ing of the cedar-birds, which could best be represented 

 by a line of the letter " s," as the flock dashes by. 



Notice the watchman Vrattle cry of the kingfisher 

 by the pond or stream, and forever distinguish it. 



