222 The Return of Song 



as of birds speaking in their sleep, and hardly out- 

 last the thrush. One of the latest and most per- 

 sistent singers is the ever alert and sprightly gold- 

 finch, which has, happily, shown distinct signs of 

 regaining its lost ground during the last few years 

 as a consequence of effective legal protection. 

 Throughout July, and even up to the middle of 

 August, the bright though not exceedingly musical 

 phrases of the goldfinch can be heard repeated with 

 much of the true spring vivacity among the dense 

 foliage of the outer branches. There it loves to 

 search and flutter, like a noisier willow- wren, and 

 there it often places its nest among the outmost 

 sprays. But the goldfinch is still too uncommon 

 in many English districts to be conspicuous as a 

 singer in the general silence. 



The first notes of the new season of song are 

 generally to be heard from our garden robins. 

 The robin seems sensitive to the earliest waft of 

 misty autumn coolness that breathes through the 

 dog-day air ; and he acclaims its invigorating power, 

 and its hint of spring to come, by the resumption 

 of his clear and piercing chant. The new song 

 of the robin may not force itself upon our notice 

 until some fresh morning in September, after rain 

 and wind in the night, when plums and apples 

 lie scattered among the grass, or even until the 

 October leaves of the Virginian creeper lie drifted 

 under the robin's perch on the railing, redder than 

 his own red breast. But often, in early August by 

 wood or river-side, if we wake in the grey of dawn, 

 we may hear the song of the robin already uplifted 



