IMPEESSIONS OF SOME ENGLISH BIEDS 137 



called, — a little brown bird, that builds a dome- 

 shaped nest upon the ground and lines it with 

 feathers. White says it has a "sweet, plaintive 

 note," which is but half the truth. It has a long, 

 tender, delicious warble, not wanting in strength 

 and volume, but eminently pure and sweet, — the 

 song of the chaffinch refined and idealized. The 

 famous blackcap, which I heard in the south of 

 England and again in Trance, falls far short of it 

 in these respects, and only surpasses it in strength 

 and brilliancy. The song is, perhaps, in the minor 

 key, feminiae and not masculiae, but it touches the 



heart. 



"Tliat strain again; it had a dying fall." 



The song of the willow warbler has a dying fall; 

 no other bird-song is so touching in this respect. 

 It mounts up round and full, then runs down the 

 scale, and expires upon the air in a gentle murmur. 

 I heard the bird everywhere; next to the chaffinch, 

 its voice greeted my ear oftenest; yet many country 

 people of whom I inquired did not know the bird, 

 or confounded it with some other. It is too fine 

 a song for the ordinary English ear; there is not 

 noise enough in it. The whitethroat is much more 

 famous; it has a louder, coarser voice; it sings 

 with great emphasis and assurance, and is a much 

 better John Bull than the little willow warbler. 



I could well understand, after being in England 

 a few days, why, to English travelers, our songsters 

 seem inferior to their own. They are much less 

 loud and vociferous, less abundant and familiar; 



