THE CITY OF THE BIRDS. 5/ 



and vibrations, admirably performed and repeated 

 at half-minute intervals. 



Resolved to know the trumpeter, however 

 annoying this selfish, ill-mannered peeping may be 

 to him, I settled myself to await developments. 



At last, a glint of ash and white, borne on dark 

 wings, comes out from among the leaves; but 

 again vanishes like a shade, a mere tuft of feath- 

 ers, blown rapidly past, and only seen for an 

 instant. 



The bird strikes up another kind of tune, not 

 heard before, in a shrub twenty feet away. It is 

 so full of demiquavers and sudden transitions, 

 corresponding to his violent emotions, that it 

 is impossible to write it in syllables. 



The squall of the cat-bird is introduced, as if he 

 had just caught it from his neighbors, and used it 

 as a means to frighten one away. 



After much turning of neck and head, the min- 

 strel is seen. A dark-green bird, nearly the shade 

 of the leaves, with ashen breast, white underparts, 

 light-yellow sides, and a marking of dark yellow 

 on the frontal feathers and along the cheeks. 



The iris of tjie eye is white, and gleams like a 

 fifer's as he shakes the fragments of notes from 

 his throat. The curious white circle which sur- 

 rounds the pupil is an exception to the general 

 color of the eyes of birds. 



In the majority of perchers, at least, the iris is 



