ing places, and so attached do the birds 

 become to some selected corner of the 

 marsh, that the same pair return annually 

 to their chosen spot. The nest proper is 

 generally built of those materials which 

 surround and conceal the site, and is 

 so constructed with an opening on the 

 side, sufficient in size to admit the owner, 

 that it is almost impossible to see from 

 above, the sitting bird or her eggs with- 

 out first parting the vegetation. In sev- 

 eral instances I have been obliged to lift 

 the incubating bird from her nest that I 

 might obtain a view of her treasures. 



The eggs exhibit considerable diversi- 

 ty in size, shape and color. Typical eggs 

 resemble those of the domestic fowl in 

 shape. The background of the egg may 

 be bluish white, creamy buff or light 

 brown. The markings consist of specks, 

 spots, blotches and scrawls of numerous 

 shades of red, brown and lilac. In size 

 the eggs range from one and fifty-hun- 

 dredths inches to one and ninety-hun- 

 dredths inches long by one and twelve- 

 hundredths inches to one and twenty- 

 eight-hundredths inches wide. 



Gerard Alan Abbott. 



THE BIRD OF FOUR HUNDRED TONGUES 



The mocking bird is wronged by his 

 name, for he is not a mere mimic of the 

 songs of other birds, but has a true, orig- 

 inal song of his own, a rich, dreamy mel- 

 ody — the poet to the contrary notwith- 

 standing, who says : 



''List to that bird! his song, what poet pens 

 it? 

 Brigand of birds, he's stolen every note. 

 Prince though of thieves — look how the rascal 

 spends it — 

 Pours the whole forest from one tiny throat. ' ' 



The Mexicans aptly style the mocking 

 bird the "Bird of Four Hundred 

 Tongues," as his music is so often imita- 

 tive of the songs of other birds, which he 

 intersperses with cat calls, hawk screeches 

 and the "peep-peep" of young chickens. 

 His kaleidoscopic s*ong has endless com- 

 binations, but his song notes remain the 

 same. For vocal power he is unrivaled 

 among birds. His own notes, aside from 

 those he imitates, are bold, full and va- 

 ried, resembling those of the brown 

 thrush, only more sweet and rapid. 



When caged, he has been taught to 

 whistle "Dixie" and to imitate airs 

 played upon the piano. 



To only a few observers has it been 

 given to hear his famous "dropping 



song," although it is not so very uncom- 

 mon in his native haunts. An Indian 

 woman I know in the Territory has an 

 orchard full of mocking birds. She is 

 accustomed to pet the young ones in 

 their nests, and is on terms of intimacy 

 with the parents, yet she has never heard 

 the famous "dropping" song, or seen the 

 bird as it falls from the tree top, spray 

 by spray, to the ground, as if overcome 

 by the rapture of his vocalization. 



I have myself watched and waited 

 through flowery spring days in expecta- 

 tion of hearing Sir Mocker's dramatic 

 performance, but he only gave me his 

 usual morning and evening songs, with 

 nothing of the actor to be seen. 



In dress of shimmering gray, with sil- 

 ver-white flash of wings, and clear, pale- 

 gold eyes, he is an attractive artist even 

 when at rest, for he is inclined to be so- 

 ciable with people who are kind to him. 

 For them, too, he often sings his best 

 songs, coming at early dawn to a tree 

 near some open window : 



' ' Each golden note of music greets 

 The listening leaves divinely stirred, 



As if the vanished soul of Keats 



Had found its new birth in a bird." 



Belle Paxson Drury. 



125 



