Mbere tbe /lDocMng=I)ir& Sings 



negroes are scattered through the pine 

 woods, and each has its one pair, at least, 

 of resident mocking-birds Uving in the 

 Httle orchard round about. On the rude 

 veranda you frequently see a bird-cage 

 containing its lonely captive moqueur. In 

 my leisurely rambles I have had the plea- 

 sure of hearing captive, resident, and 

 migrant singing at the same time, not 

 two hundred feet apart. There is no mis- 

 taking the joyous, triumphant strain of 

 him whose life has been perfected in the 

 broadest freedom of nature. It is the 

 strain of genius, audacious, defiant, un- 

 trammeled — a voice of absolute indepen- 

 dence crying in the wilderness. 



I have never heard the nightingale's 

 song; therefore I have no actual know- 

 ledge, from comparative study, upon which 

 to base a decision in the intercontinental 

 dispute as to the world's championship in 

 bird-music ; nor does the matter much in- 

 terest me. What seems to me worth while, 

 however, is the practical test which would 

 naturally come to the question of superior- 

 ity were the nightingale imported and freed 

 84 



