66 ON THE BIRDS' HIGHWAY 



out the summer, when tired of the 

 thicket's depths, he bursts its bonds and 

 uttering an indescribable jingle climbs 

 the air and then drops silently back again 

 into its embrace. 



Such songs as these seem to call out 

 the good in a man and make him humble 

 himself even before a bird, for surely he 

 is without a soul who would not pause to 

 listen to such divine melody. 



