98 BIRDS AND POETS 



the air transmits sounds, and what an awakening, 

 prophetic character all sounds have! The distant 

 barking of a dog, or the lowing of a cow, or the crow- 

 ing of a cock, seems from out the heart of Nature, 

 and to he a call to come forth. The great sun ap- 

 pears to have been reburnished, and there is some- 

 thing in his first glance above the eastern hills, and 

 the way his eye-beams dart right and left and smite 

 the rugged mountains into gold, that quickens the 

 pulse and inspires the heart. 



Across the fields in the early morning I hear some 

 of the rare April birds, — the che wink, and the brown 

 thrasher. The robin, bluebird, song sparrow, phoebe- 

 bird, etc., come in March; but these two ground- 

 birds are seldom heard till toward the last of April. 

 The ground-birds are all tree-singers or air-singers ; 

 they must have an elevated stage to speak from. 

 Our long-tailed thrush, or thrasher, like its con- 

 geners the catbird and mockingbird, delights in a 

 high branch of some solitary tree, whence it will 

 pour out its rich and intricate warble for an hour 

 together. This bird is the great American chipper. 

 There is no other bird that I know of that can chip 

 with such emphasis and military decision as this yel- 

 low-eyed songster. It is like the click of a giant 

 gun-lock. "Why is the thrasher so stealthy? It 

 always seems to be going about on tiptoe. I never 

 knew it to steal anything, and yet it skulks and 

 hides like a fugitive from justice. One never sees 

 it flying aloft in the air and traversing the world 

 openly, like most birds, but it darts along fences and 



