" I Slum siiitHlhini nn the 

 wires of a telegraph-pole.' 



across a fifty-acre field. His voice is " haisli 

 and discoidaiit" wlien sonuded into one's very 

 ears. The sweetest-toned organ would be dis- 

 cordant to one inside the instinment. Give the 

 hird the room he demands, — wide, early-morn- 

 ing fields, — and listen. A single shout, almost 

 human it seems, Avild, weird, and penetrating, 

 yet clear and smooth as the blast of a bugle. 

 One can never foiget it, nor resist it ; for it 

 thrills like a resurrection call — the last, long 

 sumjiions to the spring waking. This solitary 

 note is often repeated, but is never so rapid 

 nor so long drawn out as the call of the flicker. 

 [US] 



