208 SINGING BIRDS. 
these birds winter in the myrtle-swamps of South Carolina. I 
have not, however, seen them in the Southern States at that 
season, and most part of the species pass on probably as far as 
the coast of the Mexican Gulf. They do not, according to 
Wilson, breed in the lower parts of Pennsylvania, though un- 
doubtedly they do in the mountainous districts, where they are 
seen as late as the 2oth of May. They propagate and are very 
common in Massachusetts. 
In its retiring habits and love of concealment this Thrush 
resembles the preceding. It frequents the dark and shady 
borders of small brooks and woods, and sometimes the bushy 
and retired parts of the garden; from whence, without being 
often seen, in the morning and particularly the evening to the 
very approach of night, we often hear the singular, quaint, and 
musical note of this querulous species at short intervals, as one 
perches upon some low branch of a tree or bush. This curious 
whistling note sounds like ’vehu ’u’rehu ’u'rehu ’v'rehu, and 
sometimes ’ved ved ’vrehd 'vreh&é vehu, ranning up the notes 
till they become shrill and quick at the close, in the first 
phrase, but from high to low, and terminating slender and 
slow, in the latter; another expression seems to be, ‘ve ’vead 
vehurr, ascending like a whistle. The song of another indi- 
vidual was expressed in the following manner: ’ve 'v7//id2’v//il 
‘tullill'tulliil. Ut was then repeated with variation, ‘ve vi@/ilil 
vill villi! ; then willilidl villilill, tulliill tulfiil; the whole 
agreeably and singularly delivered in a shrill, hollow voice, 
almost like the sound of liquor passing through a tunnel into a 
bottle. I have also heard several of these sounds, sometimes 
occasionally prefaced by a mewing or chirping warble. These 
sounds, though monotonous, are possessed of greater variety 
than is at first imagined, the terminating tone or key changing 
through several repetitions, so as to constitute a harmony and 
melody in some degree approaching the song of the more 
musical Wood Thrush. From this habit of serenading into 
the night, the species is sometimes here dignified with the 
nickname of the Nightingale. Occasionally he utters an angry, 
rather plaintive mew, like the Catbird, or a quivering bleat 
