must be a standard of measure, and a 

 foil is often extremely convenient. The 

 Catbird has certainly a good deal to con- 

 tend with. His name has a flippant 

 sound, without agreeable suggestiveness. 

 His voice is vehement without strength, 

 unpleasant in its explosive quality. His 

 dress is positively ridiculous — who could 

 hope to rise in life wearing a pepper-and- 

 salt jacket, a black velvet skull-cap, and 

 a large red patch on the seat of his panta- 

 loons ?' 



Still, the trim, well-fitting out-door cos- 

 tume is eminently gentlemanly, and the 

 gay patch made visible by his departure 

 was applied for the obvious purpose of 

 conveying to his persecutors a symbolical 

 reminder and warning of how blessings 

 brighten as they take their flight; for 

 when he has been driven out of life, his 

 good deeds will live after him, and that 

 he was useful in inverse proportion to his 

 lack of ornamentation will be recognized, 

 when too late ; for it is misfortunes rather 

 than sins that find the Catbird out. 



Audubon says of the song of the Cat- 

 bird, "It is composed of many of the 

 gentler trills and sweeter modulations of 

 our various woodland choristers, deliv- 

 ered with apparent caution, and with all 

 the attention and caution necessary to 

 enable the performer to please the ear of 

 his mate. Each cadence passes on with- 

 out faltering; and if you are acquainted 

 with the song of the birds he so sweetly 

 imitates, you are sure to recognize the 

 manner of the different species. When 

 the warmth of his loving bosom engages 

 him to make choice of the notes of our 

 best songsters, he brings forth sounds as 

 mellow and powerful as those of the 

 thrasher and mockingbird. These med- 

 leys, heard in the calm and balmy hours 

 of retiring day, always seem to possess 

 double power, and he must have a dull 

 ear indeed, and little relish for the sim- 

 ple melodies of nature, who can listen to 

 them without delight." 



Mr. Chapman thinks from a musical 

 standpoint, his song is excelled by few 

 of our birds. "His voice is full and rich, 

 his execution and phrasing faultless, but 

 the effect of his song, sweet and varied 

 as it is, is marred by the singer's too evi- 

 dent consciousness." 



Mrs. Olive Thome Miller believes the 

 song of the Catbird is rarely appreciated, 



probably because he seldom gives a "stage 

 performance," but sings as he goes about 

 his work. "In any momentary pause a 

 few liquid notes bubble out; on his way 

 for food, a convenient fence-post is a 

 temptation to stop a moment and utter a 

 snatch of song. His manner is of itself 

 a charm, but there is really a wonderful 

 variety in his strains. He has not, per- 

 haps, so fine an organ as his celebrated 

 relative, the thrasher; he cannot, or at 

 least he does not, usually produce so clear 

 and ringing a tone. Nor is his method 

 the same ; he does not so often repeat 

 himself, but varies as he sings, so that 

 his aria is full of surprises and unex- 

 pected turns. Doubtless persons expert 

 at finding imitations of other birds' notes 

 would discover some in his, but I am a lit- 

 tle sceptical on the subject of conscious 

 'mocking.' When the Catbird sings, I 

 hear only the Catbird, and in the same 

 way I take pleasure in the song of the 

 thrasher or mockingbird, nor care 

 whether any other may have hit upon 

 his exact combinations." She tells of his 

 wonderful "whisper song, an ecstatic per- 

 formance which should disarm the most 

 prejudiced of his detractors." She con- 

 tinues : "Occasionally his mate, as I sup- 

 posed, uttered warning cries, and in def- 

 erence to her feelings, as it appeared, his 

 notes dropped lower and lower, till I 

 could scarcely hear them, though he was 

 not ten feet away." 



Baird, Brewer and Ridgway are unani- 

 mous with Mrs. Miller in her opinion of 

 the charm of the song, but vote with the 

 majority on the question of his power of 

 mimicry, which, they say. though limited 

 and imperfectly exercised, is frequently 

 very amusing. The more difficult notes it 

 rarely attempts to copy, and signally fails 

 whenever it does so; but they say, "From 

 its first appearance among us, almost to 

 the time of departure in early fall, the air 

 is vocal with the quaint hut attractive 

 melody, rendered all the more interesting 

 from the natural song being blended 

 often with notes imperfectly mimicked 

 from the songs of other birds. The song, 

 whether natural or imitative, is always 

 varied, attractive and beautiful." They 

 mention that the male bird will frequently 

 apparently delight to sing in the imme- 

 diate presence of man, a statement which 

 almost any member of the family will take 



