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in our Southern woods. The mocking-bird 

 is a challenger ; he loves nothing so much 

 as a song-battle. The brown thrush is the 

 only bird that he has, so far, found willing 

 to take up his gage. I have seen these 

 two rivals, each on the highest point of a 

 tree, dashing melodious noise back and 

 forth for a whole hour without rest. It 

 would be a notable battle were our young 

 republican singer to cross notes with the 

 old hereditary king of song. From all 

 that I can gather, it would be the old story 

 over again : youth, vigor, fearlessness, and 

 absolute freedom would win. I have had 

 correspondence with many distinguished 

 ornithologists of America and of Europe, 

 and have met not a few of them. The 

 almost unanimous opinion among them 

 seems to be that the mocking-bird is the 

 greatest of avian singers — the " arboreal 

 Shakspere," as one has said. 



To describe the mocking-bird's song, 

 even as delivered from a cage, is not 

 within the power of any writer. To be 

 understood it must be heard in the soli- 

 tude of nature, at one of those favored 

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