142 FRESH FIELDS 



Nearly all the British bird-voices have more of 

 a burr in them than ours have. Can it be that, 

 like the people, they speak more from the throat? 

 It is especially noticeable in the crow tribe, — in 

 the rook, the jay, the jackdaw. The rook has a 

 hoarse, thick caw, — not so clearly and roundly 

 uttered as that of our crow. The swift has a 

 wheezy, catarrhal squeak, iu marked contrast to the 

 cheery chipper of our swift. In Europe the chim- 

 ney swallow builds in barns, and the barn swallow 

 builds in chimneys. The barn swallow, as we 

 would call it, — chimney swallow, as it is called 

 there, — is much the same in voice, color, form, 

 flight, etc., as our bird, while the swift is much 

 larger than our chimney swallow and has a forked 

 tail. The martlet, answering to our cliff swallow, 

 is not so strong and ruddy looking a bird as our 

 species, but it builds much the same, and has a 

 similar note. It is more plentiful than our swal- 

 low. I was soon struck with the fact that in the 

 main the British song-birds lead up to and culminate 

 in two species, namely, in the lark and the nightin- 

 gale. In these two birds all that is characteristic 

 in the other songsters is gathered up and carried to 

 perfection. They crown the series. ISTearly aU the 

 finches and pipits seem like rude studies and sketches 

 of the skylark, and nearly all the warblers and 

 thrushes point to the nightingale; their powers 

 have fully blossomed in her. There is nothing in 

 the lark's song, in the quality or in the manner of 

 it, that is not sketched or suggested in some voice 



