From Fox's Earth 



the song. There is local colouring, a hint at 

 dialect. 



Sounds may not be carried so far. The birds 

 themselves must be made to sing in the same 

 wood. Even then the sense must be trained to 

 birds' song. The so-called musical ear is limited 

 to sounds made by men and women. It knows 

 nothing of the concert of the grove. Only birds 

 are critics there. A parrot reared in Yorkshire 

 came along with its owners to settle in Fife. 

 When the daughter of the house entered the 

 room it announced the fact by saying, " Mina's 

 coomed ! " If not so broad, thrush dialect is 

 appreciable, at least, among themselves. Local 

 names mean something. There is such a thing 

 as a mavis. 



So, too, and more so, with distance in time. 

 The thrushes of Malcolm Canmore and his Saxon 

 Margaret sang not as our thrushes. If we could 

 hear the talk of olden men it would be hard to 

 know the sound. So of olden songs. Were the 

 thrushes to appear in the woods, dull as we are, 

 we would know the difference, and the modern 

 songsters would listen as to strange birds. And 

 ere time has measured itself as far into the future, 

 will have arisen a fresh song, like and yet unlike, 

 with as marked a change as in the talk of men. 

 Nothing is fixed ; there is no single point of rest. 

 The old order changeth, giving place to new. 

 Song is unfolding. 



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