ficulty in distinguishing the two birds 

 nor in differentiating their songs. While 

 the song of the thrasher is a. repetition 

 of notes (generally two before a change) 

 it has little likeness to the songs of other 

 birds. The Mockingbird, however, re- 

 peats each part of his running and chang- 

 ing melody from three to nine times 

 (occasionally more, but always divided 

 in sets of three notes), and these notes 

 are exact reproductions of the songs of 

 his bird-neighbors. 



The Mocker's song is almost wholly 

 influenced by the notes and calls of the 

 various birds making their homes in his 

 immediate vicinity. In one instance I 

 was only made aware of the presence of 

 a family of sparrow hawks through a 

 search occasioned by hearing their shrill 

 Killic ! Killic ! Killic ! screamed from the 

 modulating throat of a Mockingbird. 



We often hear of caged Mockers, 

 reared from nestlings in captivity, imi- 

 tating with some degree of accuracy the 

 songs of forest birds, but the wonderful 

 exactness of an unconfined bird's pro- 

 ductions, I am convinced, can only be at- 

 tained by it through a close contact with 

 the other species. 



The song of the brown thrasher may 

 be described as a composition of origi- 

 nalities, but in listening to the Mock- 

 ingbird, an experienced ear will recog- 

 nize with clearness and distinctness — the 

 carol of the robin — the excited cry of 

 the sparrow hawk — the vociferous Kill- 

 deer! Killdeer! of the bird that named 

 itself, while the caw of the crow, bob 

 white's clear and ringing whistle and 

 the sweet, plaintive song of the blue- 

 bird are reproduced with astonishing ex- 

 actness. Following a short pause (as 

 though turning to a new page), we hear 

 the English sparrow's harsh monoto- 

 nous chirps drift into that sweetest of all 

 bird-melodies, the meadowlark's song. 

 Then rings out the blue jay's resonant 

 challenge — the rasping, discordant 

 shrike notes — the liquid "cherolee" of 

 the red-wing — the soft mournful "coo" 

 of the dove — the vivacious "I've cheated 

 ye" of the goldfinch, and the rippling, 

 tinkling, bubbling notes of the bobolink. 

 Indeed, his abilities as a mimic were 

 well described when a darky admirer de- 



54 



clared "he kin jest beat a jay-bud at his 

 own hollerin'." 



To hear him at his best, we must 

 choose a mellow moonlight night in 

 June when the soft warm breezes from 

 the southland awaken in .his heart a 

 joyful mood. We say night, for while 

 his nocturnal lay is in no way the su- 

 perior of his day efforts, coming as it 

 does when the world is asleep and other 

 bird voices are stilled, we will doubtless 

 be more deeply impressed with the won- 

 derful performance of this living phono- 

 graph. 



Giving him our undivided attention, 

 we close our eyes and in fancy travel 

 hither and thither — o'er field and for- 

 est — any where he leads us with his song. 

 Now in the sweet-smelling wood when 

 we hear the whistling titmouse and the 

 cardinal — now near the creek's bank 

 when we hear the voice of the belted 

 kingfisher, at once so realistic, we may 

 almost see him quickly rounding the 

 bends and curves and rattling his way 

 up-stream. 



Back through the fields he quickly 

 leads us and we pause for the moment 

 by a dense hedge thicket when a shrike's 

 grating notes fall upon our ears. We 

 are near into a meadow now, for wafted 

 to us in tones clear and sweet we catch 

 the song of a happy meadowlark. Caw ! 

 Caw ! Caw ! comes lazily over the breeze 

 to us, and we picture a dusky crow 

 slowly flapping his great wings after a 

 ludicrous attempt at soaring. Caw ! 

 Haw ! Hock ! Hock ! Hock ! Have we 

 frightened a flock of these impudent fel- 

 lows from their resting place in the 

 grove? Else why this sudden change 

 in their notes ? Ah ! we recognize it now 

 — the crow's war-cry. A shrill scream 

 follows — the cry of a harassed red- 

 tailed hawk, and we open our expectant 

 eyes — eager to witness the mid-air battle 

 between these two natural enemies. In- 

 stantly the spell has vanished, and as 

 though resenting instead' of acknowledg- 

 ing our enthusiastic encores, our enter- 

 tainer shifts the scene and flits away to 

 another stage. 



* * * This charming bird has an- 

 other performance — a rare exhibition of 

 his talents that should never be omitted 

 from a description of his accomplish- 



