BROWSINGS IN OTHER FIELDS. 233 



Starling's song. He begins in a low, subdued tone, 

 and seems at first to be quite calm ; but gradually he 

 grows excited, his body quivers and sways from side 

 to side, his neck is craned out, his throat expands and 

 contracts convulsively, and, oh ! oh ! oh ! — pardon 

 the exclamations — the hurly-burly that gurgles and 

 ripples and bubbles and pours from his windpipe ! 

 At one point a double sound is produced, or two 

 sounds nearly at the same moment, — one low and 

 guttural, the other on a higher key, — presently a 

 half-dozen notes rush forth pell-mell, accompanied 

 by a quick snapping of the mandibles ; then a suc- 

 cession of loud, musical, explosive notes fall on the 

 ear ; and finally the bird, as if in a spasm of ecstasy, 

 opens his mouth wide and utters a clear, rapturous 

 trill as a sort of musical peroration. It is simply 

 wonderful. At first the bird seems to control the 

 song, but erelong the song seems to master the bird 

 completely. To my mind, it seemed that the song- 

 ster in the intervals of silence had wound up his 

 music-box, and then, having got started, was unable 

 to stop until the spring had run down. Some of 

 the notes of the strain were quite melodious, while 

 others were rather grating. 



But what was that silvery song, rising above all 

 the other clangor of music ? It was the trill of my 

 peerless little friend, the white-throated sparrow, 

 which I have met so often in my own woodland 

 trysts. Were I to award the prize to any bird in 

 the whole Zoo for sweetness of tone, it would cer- 

 tainly be given to this matchless minstrel. No other 



