218 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIRDS 



of mackerel sky, or its reflection in the water, or the 

 white clamshell, wrong side out, opened by a musquash, 

 or the fine particles of white quartz that may be found 

 in the muddy river's sand. He is here to give a voice to 

 all these. The willow's dead twig is aerial perch enough 

 for him. Even the swallows deign to perch on it. 



Aug. 6, 1858. If our sluggish river, choked with 

 potamogeton, might seem to have the slow-flying bit- 

 tern for its peculiar genius, it has also the sprightly and 

 aerial kingbird to twitter over and lift our thoughts to 

 clouds as white as its own breast. 



Aug. 7, 1858. The sprightly kingbird glances and 

 twitters above the glossy leaves of the swamp white oak. 

 Perchance this tree, with its leaves glossy above and 

 whitish beneath, best expresses the life of the kingbird 

 and is its own tree. 



PHCEBE; PEWEE 



April 2, 1852. What ails the pewee's tail? It is 

 loosely hung, pulsating with Hfe. What mean these 

 wag-tail birds? Cats and dogs, too, express some of 

 their life through their tails. 



Eor a long distance, as we paddle up the river, we 

 hear the two-stanza'd lay of the pewee on the shore, — 

 pee-wet, peer-wee, etc. Those are the two obvious facts 

 to eye and ear, the river and the pewee. 



April 11, 1852. As I go over the railroad bridge, I 

 hear the pewee singing pewet pewee, pee-wet pee-wee. 

 The last time rising on the last syllable, sometimes re- 

 peating it thus many times, pe-wee. 



