RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET. 



(Regulus calendula.) 



"What wondrous power from heaven upon thee wrought ? 

 What prisoned Ariel within thee broods?" 



— Celia Thaxter. 



'Thou singest as if the God of Wine 

 Had helped thee to a valentine; 

 A song in mockery and despite 

 Of shades and dews and silent night, 

 And steady bliss and all the loves 

 Now sleeping in these peaceful groves." 



— Wordsworth. 



Like a bee with its honey, when the 

 Ruby-crown has unloaded his vocal 

 sweetness, there is comparatively little 

 left of him, and, ebullient with an energy 

 that would otherwise rend him, his incred- 

 ible vocal achievement is the safety valve 

 that has so far preserved his atoms in 

 their Avian semblance. 



Dr. Coues says that his lower larynx, 

 the sound-producing organ, is not much 

 bigger than a good-sized pin's head, and 

 the muscles that move it are almost mi- 

 croscopic shreds of flesh. "If the strength 

 of the human voice were jn the same pro- 

 portion to the size of the larynx, we 

 could converse with ease at a distance of 

 a mile or more." 



"The Kinglet's exquisite vocalization," 

 he continues, "defies description ; we can 

 only speak in general terms of the power, 

 purity and volume of the notes, their 

 faultless modulation and long continu- 

 ance. Many doubtless, have listened to 

 this music without suspecting that the au- 

 thor was the diminutive Ruby-crown, 

 with whose commonplace utterance, the 

 slender, wiry 'tsip,' they were already fa- 

 miliar. This delightful role, of musician, 

 is chiefly executed during the mating sea- 

 son, and the brief period of exaltation 

 which precedes it. It is consequently sel- 

 dom heard in regions where the bird does 

 not rear its young, except when the little 



performer breaks forth in song on nearing 

 its summer resorts." 



When Rev. J. H. Langille heard his 

 first Regulus calendula, he said, "The 

 song came from out of a thick clump of 

 thorns, and was so loud and spirited that 

 I was led to expect a bird at least as large 

 as a thrush. Chee-oo, chee-oo, chee-oo, 

 choo, choo, tseet, tseet, te-tseet, te-tseet, 

 te-tseet, etc., may represent this wonder- 

 ful melody, the first notes being strong- 

 ly palatal and somewhat aspirated, 

 the latter slender and sibilant and more 

 rapidly uttered; the first part being 

 also so full and animated as to make one 

 think of the water-thrush, or the winter 

 wren ; while the last part sounded like 

 a succeedant song from a slender-voiced 

 warbler. Could all this come from the 

 throat of this tiny, four-inch Sylvia? I 

 was obliged to believe my own eyes, for I 

 saw the bird many times in the act of 

 singing. The melody was such as to 

 mark the day on which I heard it." 



H. D. Minot says, "In autumn and win- 

 ter their only note is a feeble lisp. In 

 spring, besides occasionally uttering an 

 indescribable querulous sound, and a 

 harsh, 'grating' note, which belongs ex- 

 clusively to that season, the Ruby- 

 crowned wrens sing extremely well and 

 louder than such small birds seem cap- 

 able of singing. Their song begins with 



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