AUTUMN VISITORS. 147 
tain manner heard in a young canary just beginning to 
sing, often at first so little like his kind that it would 
not be recognized without the surroundings; and so it 
will continue, sometimes for hours, the pleasantest little 
singing school imaginable. I have often heard the songs 
of these little birds in the fall, and thought that I was 
listening to a strange species, until I saw the parent bird 
near by. 
When young and old of different species are thus 
practicing in close proximity, the young of one will 
often catch the tone and warble of another, and in this 
way may the anomalous notes of many birds be ac- 
counted for; such instances as I have previously noticed, 
in which the sparrows, in certain parts of their songs, 
utter the exact notes of the cheewink or towhee, and 
one of the creepers, the sweet whistle of the titmouse. 
A robin will sometimes sing the entire strain of the 
oriole, uniting the clearer, higher notes of the latter 
with the sweeter, mellower and more extended song of 
his own. 
The larks still remain in full force, and their shrill 
notes go up from many a brown meadow and yellow 
stubblefield. They are among the earliest birds in 
spring, and are in no hurry to leave in autumn; it seems 
a pity that these beautiful birds, so rich in plumage and 
graceful in form, are not endowed with more melodious 
tones, as, like some boys, they are forever whistling, 
piercing your ears when you are listening for sweeter 
and more delicate sounds. 
