Imitative and Ventriloqual Power of Birds. 



BY E. E. FISH. 



Birds not only have their own songs, or those peculiar to their 

 species,, but many of them have, at least in part, the songs of other 

 kinds. It is well known that the canaries can be taught to sing art 

 music very accurately. They also frequently take up the songs of 

 other birds caged near them. This imitative power of wild birds, 

 with the exception of the mocking-bird, seems to be comparatively 

 unobserved. Burroughs is the only naturalist that has made men- 

 tion of it, and he has noticed only one or two instances that have 

 come under his observation. 



The song-sparrow (Melospiza melodia), perhaps often er than any 

 other bird catches certain notes or strains of those with which it is 

 associated. 



Last summer, in a private park in the city, I heard the peculiar 

 note of a chewink or towhee bunting {Pipilo erythrophthalmus), in 

 a tree near by; and, at the same time, the clear note of a song-spar- 

 row from the same tree: being surprised to hear the notes of the 

 former in the city, knowing it to be' a very shy bird, generally making 

 its home in bushy pasture-fields, I approached the tree to listen more 

 attentively, and, each time, just at the middle of the sparrow's song, 

 the high, quaint note of the towhee could be heard. Soon I discov- 

 ered that the sparrow sang both his own and the other's song. Since 

 then I have heard two others that ended their songs with that of the 

 chewink. 



Another sparrow at Forest Lawn was observed to close every song 

 with the high, sharp notes of the peetweet, a water-bird that can 

 generally be seen in the same locality. At least on a dozen differ- 

 ent visits to the locality, in June and July, I heard the same bird, 

 closing each song with the peetweet calls. 



I have heard a robin intersperse the notes of a phebe bird with 

 each song, with such exactness as to deceive any one who might not 

 see the bird while singing. Another robin that sang during many 

 mornings on Franklin street, last summer, had half a robin's song 



