BIRD SONGS 65 



when the mild weather seems to have 

 melted the winter out of his soul, he will 

 sing to his accompanying mate, his wiry, 

 sweet though feeble song, which you 

 could not have believed would have issued 

 from that demure bird with the sickle 

 bill. He certainly sings as if his song 

 were meant for a small audience, and 

 surely only a small audience have ever 

 listened to it. 



There are few roamers of the woods 

 who have not often heard a ringing 

 *' teacher - teacher - teacher - teacher " echo 

 through their aisles and seen the chorister, 

 the oven bird, walking sedately a hori- 

 zontal bough. But if we remain in the 

 wood till sundown is close at hand, we 

 shall see him soar up through the trees, 

 pouring forth an indescribable but beauti- 

 ful song, until the night wraps the wood 

 in shadow and silence. 



And, last of all, the Maryland yellow- 

 throat, who hides in the thicket with a 

 black mask over his pert face, has beside 

 his ventriloquous " wichety " which we 

 know, generally long before we know 

 himself, a musical achievement worthy of 

 note. From the middle of May through- 

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