THE BIRDS OF PRINCETON. 103 



though similar, is somewhat superior to 

 his. I never in my life heard such singing 

 from that much under-estimated thrush, 

 the American robin, as here in Princeton. 

 The Princeton air would seem to have pu- 

 rified and exalted his voice, and his kinship 

 to the veery and hermit-thrush is made 

 manifest. 



In Worcester the pretty goldfinch, the 

 little yellow bird with the black wings, is 

 not very abundant. Here he is seen fly- 

 ing in all directions with his pretty dipping 

 flight, and uttering his canary-like twitter. 

 The handsome meadow-lark is not uncom- 

 mon, though found in nothing like such 

 abundance as along the intervals of the 

 Blackstone River in the towns below Wor- 

 cester. But the merry bobolink pours 

 down his rollicking song from over our 

 heads in every meadow. Here you do 

 not go out of town to seek him, and the 

 best place I know to hear him is from the 

 east piazza of the Wachusett House and 

 from Mr. Bullock's pretty cottage. In 

 July and August, when the town will be 



