JUNE. 155 



the concert as if aroused by the beginners and excited 

 by emulation until thousands of melodious voices seem 

 to be calling us out from sleep, to the enjoyment of life 

 and liberty. ■ 



After the sun has risen nearly to meridian height, the 

 greater number of the birds that helped to swell the 

 anthem of morn, discontinue their songs, and a com- 

 parative silence prevails during the heat of the day. 

 The vireo, however, warbles incessantly, at all hours of 

 daylight, from the lofty tree-tops in the heart of the vil- 

 lages ; the oriole is still piping at intervals among the 

 blossoms of the fruit-trees, and the merry bobolink 

 never tires, during the ' heat of the day, while singing 

 and chattering, as if in ecstasies, above and around the 

 sitting place of his wedded mate. At the commence- 

 ment of the sun's decline, the birds renew their songs ; 

 but the majority of the more familiar birds that linger 

 about our orchards and gardens, are far less musical at 

 sunset than at sunrise. I suppose they may be more 

 annoyed by the presence of men, who are more accus- 

 tomed to be out at a late hour in the evening, than at 

 an early hour in the morning. 



The hour preceding dusk in the evening, however, is 

 the time when the thrushes, the most musical of birds, 

 are loudest in their song. Several different species of 

 this tribe of musicians, at a late hour, are almost the 

 sole performers. The cat-bird, with a strain somewhat 

 similar to that of the robin, less melodious, but more 

 varied and quaint in its expression, is then warbling in 

 those places, where the orchards and the wildwood 

 meet and are blended together. The red-thrush, a bird 

 still more retired in his habits, takes his station upon a 

 tree that stands apart from the wood, and there pours 



