THE MOCKING-BIRD. 171 



Bartiam has beautifully expressed it, 'He bounds aloft with the 

 celerity of an arrow, as if to recover or recall his very soul, 

 expired in the last elevated strain.' 1 While thus exerting him- 

 self, a bystander destitute of sight would suppose that the whole 

 feathered tribes had assembled together, on a trial of skill, each 

 striving to produce his utmost effect, so perfect are his imita- 

 tions. He many times deceives the sportsman, and sends him in 

 search of birds that perhaps are not within miles of him, but 

 whose notes he exactly imitates ; even birds themselves are fre- 

 quently imposed on by this admirable mimic, and are decoyed by 

 the fancied calls of their mates, or dive with precipitation into the 

 depth of thickets at the scream of what they suppose to be the 

 Sparrow-hawk. 



" The Mocking-bird loses little of the power and energy of his 

 song by confinement. In his domesticated state, when he com- 

 mences his career of song, it is impossible to stand by uninterested. 

 He whistles for the dog, — Caesar starts up, wags his tail, and runs 

 to meet his master. He squeaks out like a hurt chicken, — and 

 the hen hurries about with hanging wings and bristled feathers, 

 clucking to protect its injured brood. The barking of the dog, the 

 mewing of the cat, the creaking of a passing wheelbarrow, follow 

 with great truth and rapidity. He repeats the tune taught him by 

 his master, though of considerable length, fully and faithfully. He 

 runs over the quiverings of the Canary, and the clear whistlings 

 of the Virginia Nightingale, or Ked-bird, with such superior execu- 

 tion and effect, that the mortified songsters feel their own inferiority, 

 and become altogether silent, while he seems to triumph in their 

 defeat by redoubling his exertions. 



" This excessive fondness for variety, however, in the opinion 

 of some, injures his song. His elevated imitations of the Brown 

 Thrush are frequently interrupted by the crowing of cocks ; and 

 the warblings of the Blue-bird, which he exquisitely manages, are 

 mingled with the screaming of swallows, or the cackling of hens ; 

 amidst the simple melody of the Kobin, we are suddenly surprised 

 by the shrill reiterations of the Whippoorwill ; while the notes of 

 the Killdeer, Blue Jay, Martin, Baltimore, and twenty others, suc- 

 sead with such imposing reality, that we look round for the origi- 



1 Travels, p. 32. Introd. 



