A Paradise of Birds 



lees mingled with chippy vibrant and exploding 

 globules of musical notes, making a most enthu- 

 siastic, indescribable joy-song, a combination 

 unlike anjrthing to be heard elsewhere in the 

 bird kingdom; something like bagpipes, flutes, 

 violins, pianos, and human -like voices all 

 bursting and bubbling at once. Then suddenly 

 some one of the joyful congregation shouts 

 Chirr! Chirr! and all stop as if shot. 



The sweet-voiced meadowlark with its placid, 

 simple song of peery-eery-bdical was another 

 favorite, and we soon learned to admire the 

 Baltimore oriole and its wonderful hanging 

 nests, and the scarlet tanager glowing like fire 

 amid the green leaves. 



But no singer of them all got farther into 

 our hearts than the little speckle-breasted song 

 sparrow, one of the first to arrive and begin 

 nest-building and singing. The richness, sweet- 

 ness, and pathos of this small darling's song as 

 he sat on a low bush often brought tears to our 

 eyes. 



The little cheery, modest chickadee midget, 

 [ 143 1 



