256 



THE CATBIRD. 



f'. 





talented singers k-nnwn. One such 1 remember, wliicli, overcome by the charms 

 of a May day sunset, mounted tlie tip of a pasture ehn, and poured forth a 

 hymn of praise in ^\•hich eyery yoice of woodland and field was laid under con- 

 tribution. Yet all were suffused jjy the singer's own emotion. Oh, how that 

 \'oice rang out upon the still evening air ! The bird sang with true feeling, 

 an artist in every sense, and the delicacy and accuracy of his phrasing must 

 have silenced a much more captious critic than I. Never at a loss for a note, 

 never pausing to ask himself what he should sing next, he went steadily on, 

 now with a phrase from Robin's song, now with the shrill cry of the Red- 

 headed W^oodpecker, each softened and refined as his own infallible musical 



taste dictat- 



ed : now and 

 again he in- 

 t e r spersed 

 these with 

 bits of his 

 own none less 

 h e a utiful. 

 The carol of 

 the Vireo,the 

 tender ditties 

 of the Song 

 and Vesper 

 Spa rrows, 

 and the more 

 pretentious 

 efforts of the 

 G r o s beaks, 

 had all im- 

 pressed 

 the m selves 

 upon this 

 musician's ear, and he repeated them, not slavishly, but with discernment and 

 deep appreciation. As the sun sank lower in the west I left him there, a dull 

 gray bird, with form scarcely outlined against the evening sky, but my soul 

 had taken flight with his — up into that blest abode where all Nature's voices 

 are blended into one, and all music is praise. 



Taken near Waverly. 



rUvto bji 

 AN EARLY NEST. 



