78 OUTDOOR STUDIES 
spring and the bluebird so neat? Is it that the 
song sparrow is a wild artist, absorbed in the 
composition of his lay, and oblivious of ordinary 
proprieties, while the smooth bluebird and his 
ash-colored mate cultivate their delicate warble 
only as a domestic accomplishment, and are al- 
ways nicely dressed before sitting down at the 
piano? Then how exciting is the gradual arrival 
of the birds in their summer plumage! To 
watch it is like sitting at the window on Easter 
Sunday to observe the new bonnets. Yonder, 
in that clump of alders by the brook, is the 
delicious jargoning of the first flock of yellow- 
birds ; there are the little gentlemen in black 
and yellow, and the little ladies in olive-brown ; 
“sweet, sweet, sweet,” is the only word they 
say, and often they will so lower their ceaseless 
warble that, though almost within reach, the 
minstrels seem far distant. There is the very 
earliest catbird, mimicking the bobolink before 
the bobolink has come: what is the history of 
his song, then? Is it a reminiscence of last 
year, or has the little coquette been practising 
it all winter, in some gay Southern society, 
where catbirds and bobolinks grow intimate, 
just as Southern fashionables from different 
States may meet and sing duets at Saratoga? 
There sounds the sweet, low, long-continued 
trill of the little hairbird, or chipping sparrow, 
