THE CATBIED 



It requires an effort for me to speak of the 

 singing catbird as he ; all the ways and tones of 

 the bird seem so distinctly feminine. But it is, 

 of course, only the male that sings. At times 

 I hardly know whether I am more pleased or 

 annoyed with him. Perhaps he is a little too 

 common, and his part in the general chorus a lit- 

 tle too conspicuous. If you are listening for the 

 note of another bird, he is sure to be prompted 

 to the most loud and protracted singing, drown- 

 ing all other sounds ; if you sit quietly down to 

 observe a favorite or study a new-comer, his curi- 

 osity knows no bounds, and you are scanned and 

 ridiculed from every point of observation. Yet I 

 would not miss him ; I would only subordinate 

 him a little, make him less conspicuous. 



He is the parodist of the woods, and there is 

 ever a mischievous, bantering, half -ironical under- 

 tone in his lay, as if he were conscious of mim» 

 icking and disconcerting some envied songster. 

 Ambitious of song, practicing and rehearsing in 

 private, he yet seems the least sincere and genu- 

 ine of the sylvan minstrels, as if he had taken up 

 music only to be in the fashion, or not to be out- 



