from his burrow. This note of the highhole is 

 irrepressibly exuberant and ringing with energy. If 

 it does not prove a tonic to you, nothing else will. 

 He is even more emphatic in his drumming. His 

 lively tattoo goes well with his vigorous call. Time 

 to be up and doing ! Wake up ! Wake up ! Wake up ! 

 Wake up! Wake up! 



Presently the first flock of fox-sparrows drop 

 down from somewhere and go to scratching among 

 the leaves, like so many chickens. The present 

 season a flock of perhaps fifty settled in and around 

 a thicket on March 24th. Their bold clear notes 

 could be heard some distance away, and drew one 

 in that dired:ion. Numbers of them were hopping 

 about, and occasionally a bird would rise to a 

 branch overhead and sing, looking like a hermit- 

 thrush as his back was turned. The place was 

 given over to the sparrows, and never was thicket 

 more tuneful. There was the sound of unceasing 

 revelry — a sylvan and melodious revelry. 



At this season the impulse to expression is natu- 

 ral and daily becomes more evident. Even the 

 crow begins to aff^edt music and to show off his 

 accomplishments. But it is Mile. Corbeau, and 

 not M. Reynard, that incites him to this exhibi- 

 16 



