set my heart a-dancing, — I''m here, sweet 

 Killooleet-lillooleet-lillooleet, — the good-night 

 song of my gentle neighbor. Then along 

 the path a little way, and another match, 

 and another song to make one better and 

 his rest sweeter. 



By day I used to listen to them, hours long 

 at a stretch, practising to perfect their song. 

 These were the younger birds; and for a 

 long time they puzzled me. Those who 

 know Killooleet's song will remember that it 

 begins with three clear sweet notes ; but very 

 few have observed the break between the 

 second and third of these. I noticed, first of 

 all, that certain birds would start the song 

 twenty times in succession, yet never get 

 beyond the second note. And when I crept 

 up, to find out about it, I would find them 

 sitting disconsolately, deep in shadow, instead 

 of out in the light where they love to sing, 

 with a pitiful little droop of wings and tail, 

 and the air of failure and dejection in every 

 movement. Then again, these same singers 

 would touch the third note ; and always, in 

 such cases, they would prolong the last trill. 



291 



Kiltooleef, 



Sweet. 

 Voice 



