LOGIST'S EXCHANGE. 



VOL. I. 



SHARON, WIS., SEPTEMBER, 1888. 



NO. 9. 



April "Prize Story" No. 1. 



Bird Songs. 



WRITTEN FOR OOLOUIST'S 'EXCHANGE 

 BY SCHOLOPAX. 



Under this heading it is the writer's 

 intention to describe some of our better 

 known bird's songs. This will be done 

 from, not only the standpoint of musical 

 superiority, but as well the sentimental- 

 ity which emanates from associations, we 

 claim, with these delicate, yet vivacious 

 dwellers of our forests and fields. The 

 nature of a man may be so constituted, 

 I can readily conceive, that associations 

 of a tender, refining order are utterly 

 absent, but to the observer, the man who 

 enjoys the many pleasures of out-door 

 life, the songs of birds are ever a fruitful 

 source of pleasing retrospection and 

 study. In his imagination he can 

 "Watch the busy swallows throng 

 And hear the pewee's mournful song." 



Even when grim winter hold sway o'er 

 forest and stream, and only the agreeable 

 anticipations of the time, in the words 

 of Wilson: 

 "When freezing tempests back to Greenland ride 



And day and night the equal hours divide," 

 remain to him, to keep in memory 

 dear the ever pleasing returns of 

 spring and the songs of birds. 



One of the earlier songsters of merit 

 which greet us in Michigan is the Ruby- 

 crowned Kinglet. Coming as it does, 

 usually in early April, the medley of joy- 

 ous notes are doubly welcome, and when 

 heard on a cold, dismal day it seems to 

 inspire one with hope in waiting for 

 warmer days and fairer skies. 



The song of this dainty, sprightly wing- 

 ed gem, is a sweet warble of great pene- 

 tration, it is still in no way coarse or 

 stridulous in any of its notes, and so ec- 

 static is the clear rippling melody, one 

 must pause, and with visible anxiety, 

 listen for its repetition, if he be a lover 

 of music and vivacious, changeable war- 

 blings. Never a break or flaw in the 

 songs of our birds, and the first note of 

 early dawn is as clear and full as the last 



note of the previous day. These true 

 musicians of nature have no need of 

 practice to fit their voices for a woodland 

 concert, and even when all sing in chorus, 

 there is not a false note uttered or any 

 discords in the harmony which prevails, 

 even though there are twenty species in 

 the choir, all of so varied a series of 

 notes, that anyone can readily be dis- 

 tinguished and identified by the writer 

 and most of his readers, in their strolls. 

 The ear of the true musician is from 

 necessity attracted by the quavering, 

 varied notes as often as repeated by this 

 sweet chorister. The song, as with 

 most birds is difficult to describe, but 

 can be expressed by pen, so that one 

 familiar with the refined notes can recog- 

 nize it at a glance, even from this artistic, 

 yet truthful attempt, the author of the 

 melody. It begins with a few low, half 

 articulate notes, soft and melodious, rises 

 to quite a pitch and ends with a trem- 

 bling, ecstatic, varied warble. It is un- 

 like the song of any bird of my acquaint- 

 ance and no comparison that the writer can 

 draw would enhance the elegance of this 

 favorite songster's ditty. In fact com- 

 parison would be invidious. The song 

 is finely executed, exquisitely modulated, 

 and were we to appropriate terms em- 

 ployed by that inferior songster man, 

 the refrain could best be describe! as an 

 allegro, bordering on agitato. In our 

 inefficient way we can perhaps describe 

 the brilliant notes on paper, hoping for 

 leniency on the part of all readers, and 

 assuring those who are better educated 

 in bird melodies than I, that the inter- 

 pretation is my best effort. The refrain 

 runs in this wise: choi choi choi qui qui. 

 qui cheedledy cheedledy cheedledy. The 

 song begins and ends abruptly, and often 

 when half finished will be abruptly ter- 

 minated the singer darting into the air 

 as if for an insect. There are a few var- 

 iations from the regulation ditty, which 

 I have so unfeelingly described above, 

 but I will not occupy your space with 



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