i62 Bird -Lore 



3. Why a bird sings? Perhaps you have not thought much about whether 

 birds have emotions and sing when well and happy or keep silent when ailing 

 and uncomfortable; whether they sing when frightened or when hungry. 

 There is a great deal to be learned before this question can be completely 

 answered. Let me call your attention again to the four birds we are to ob- 

 serve particularly this year. Take the Crow as an illustration of the expression 

 of various kinds of emotions. Although the Crow is not much of a songster, 

 it nevertheless has a surprising variation of emphasis, intonation and time- 

 intervals in its familiar "caw." Should one follow a Crow from day to day 

 and listen to its lusty note in spring, its vociferous councils with its mates, its 

 occasional attempts at imitative speech, its notes of alarm and the lugubrious 

 calls of its nestlings, one might well believe that even a single note can express 

 many states of emotion. In the case of the Downy Woodpecker, which is not 

 a singing bird at all, study reveals its brief staccato call as well as its longer, 

 more resonant roll, to be susceptible of minor changes to which the trained 

 ear is attuned. The quality of the notes of the Robin and English Sparrow are 

 about as different as one could imagine with respect to two species that are 

 found so frequently associated on our lawns. Mr. Burroughs says the Robin's 

 notes are so expressive as to be suggestive of human emotions. (Again, let me 

 call your attention to the Robin as a bird well worth studying every day that 

 it spends in our latitude.) 



The English Sparrow's notes, on the contrary, seem almost always harsh 

 and unmusical, except at the mating season, when occasionally a brief ripple of 

 something like a twittering song may be heard from one. Mr. Burroughs calls 

 attention to the possibility that thousands of years of contact with man and 

 familiarity with artificial sounds may have affected the voices of certain more 

 or less domesticated birds. He points out "how different the voice of the com- 

 mon Duck or Goose" is "from that of the wild species, or of the tame Dove 

 from that of the Turtle of the fields and groves," and queries where the English 

 Sparrow could "have acquired that unmusical voice but amid the sounds of 

 hoofs and wheels, and the discords of the street." Birds are rather easily 

 imitative, we know — certain species more than others. This one fact opens up 

 a surprising possibility of interesting discoveries in bird-music. 



Read Mr. Burrough's essay on 'Birds and Birds' as a hint of what is in 

 store for the lover of bird-music, and if this summer duty keeps you at work in 

 field or garden, have eyes and ears open as well as hands busy. You may 

 easily learn to identify many weeds and humble herbs frequented by birds and 

 insects, and add much to your store of knowledge while you are working with 

 hoe, rake or shovel. Wherever you are, be glad of the opportunity to work 

 outdoors or to be outdoors where there is so much to see and hear, even to 

 taste and smell and handle. "Whenever you have learned to discriminate the 

 birds, or the plants, or the geological features of a country, it is as if new and 

 keener eyes were added." ('Sharp Eyes,' John Burroughs.) — A. H. W. 



