The Mocking Bird. ' 243 



livery, their variety, sweetness, and energy. As if conscious of 

 his unrivalled powers of song, and animated by the harmony of his 

 own voice, his music is, as it were, accompanied by chromatic 

 dancing and expressive gestures; he spreads and closes his light 

 and fanning wings, expands his silvered tail, and, with buoyant 

 gaiety and enthusiastic ecstacy, he sweeps around, and mounts and 

 descends into the air from his lofty spray, as his song swells to 

 loudness, or dies away in sinking whispers. While thus engaged, 

 so various is his talent, that it might be supposed a trial of skill 

 from all the assembled birds of the country; and so perfect are his 

 imitations, that even the sportsman is at times deceived, and sent 

 in quest of birds that have no existence around. The feathered 

 tribes themselves are decoyed by the fancied call of their mates; 

 or dive with fear into the close thicket, at the well-feigned scream 

 of the hawk. 



Soon reconciled to the usurping fancy of man, the mocking bird 

 often becomes familiar with his master; playfully attacks him 

 through the bars of his cage, or at large in a room; restless and 

 capricious, he seems to try every expedient of a lively imagination, 

 that may conduce to his amusement Nothing escapes his dis- 

 cerning and intelligent eye or faithful ear. He whistles perhaps - 

 for the dog, who, deceived, runs to meet his master; the cries of 

 the chicken in distress bring out the clucking mother to the pro- 

 tection of her brood. — The barking of the dog, the piteous wail-^ 

 ing of the puppy, the mewing of the cat, the action of a saw, or 

 the creaking of a wheelbarrow, quickly follow with exactness. He 

 repeats a tune of considerable length; imitate? the warbling of the 

 Canary, the lisping of the indigo bird, and the mellow whistle of 

 the cardinal, in a manner so superior to the originals, that morti- 

 fied and astonished, they withdraw from his presence, or listen in 

 silence, as he continues to triumph by renewing his efforts. 



In the cage also, nearly as in the woods, he is full of life and 

 action, while engaged in song; throwing himself round with inspir- 

 ing animation, and, as it were, moving in time to the melody of 

 his own accents. Even the hours of night, whrch consign nearly 

 all other birds to rest and silence, like the nightingale, he oft em-, 

 ploys in song, serenading the houseless hunter and silent cottager 

 to repose, as the rising moon illumines the dai-kness of the shad- 

 owy scene. His capricious fondness for contrast and perpetual 

 variety appears to deteriorate his powers. His lofty imitations of 

 the musical brown thrush are perhaps interrupted by the crowing 

 of the cock, or the barking of the dog; the plaintive warblings of 

 the blue bird are then blended with the wild scream and chatter of 

 the swallow, or the cackling of the hen; amid the simple lay of 



