212 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



a pine in the northern wilderness, and rendering 

 his several phrases deliberately, smoothly, pa- 

 thetically, is as true a musician after his kind as 

 the first tenor in the great cathedral choir, whose 

 sweet, sad tones vibrate through vaulted nave, 

 carrying to listening hearts the interpretation 

 of the composer's immortal passion. Again and 

 again, summer after summer, as I have heard the 

 song of this thrush, varying from the low, trem- 

 ulous notes in his first phrase to the high, clear 

 notes in the third, it has seemed to me that his 

 song is to bird music what the Cujus Animam 

 in Rossini's Stabat Mater is to the music of the 

 Christian church. 



The first tenor and the cobbler may live in 

 the same street and be good neighbors to the ex- 

 tent of a cordial " Good morning " or " Merry 

 Christmas." So the hermit thrush and the yel- 

 low-breasted woodpecker are neighbors and ac- 

 quaintances. This woodpecker, commonly and 

 justly known as the " sapsucker," is the noisiest 

 fellow with his awl and hammer in the whole 

 forest. He wears a red and black cap and a 

 yellow apron. His voice is loud and unmusical. 

 His motions are ungraceful and full of jerks. 

 He is inquisitive and loquacious. If a brawl 

 between an owl and a mob of chickadees and 

 nuthatches breaks the stillness of the swamp, 

 his work is forgotten, and off he rushes full of 



