198 THE CONDOR Vol. XXIV 
scribed by Professor Morgan. In taking a ‘‘pleasurable satisfaction”’ in ‘‘the 
resemblance of the sounds he utters to the sounds he hears’’ is not something 
akin to reflection on the results necessary? Moreover, are the performances of 
the Mockingbird and the Parrot analogous? I do not believe they are, The 
mimicry of the Parrot is certainly associated with different instincts and emo- 
tional conditions than is that of the Mockingbird; for the Mockingbird—the 
male Mockingbird, let it be pointed out—is uttering his song, which, as 1s com- 
monly agreed, is an emotional expression intimately connected with the sexual 
instinet, whereas, unless I am much mistaken, the ‘‘talking’’ of the Parrot rests 
on no such basis and bears no relation to sex feelings; but is more akin to 
mimiery as an instinct in itself such as we perceive in the actions and gestures 
of monkeys. 
The Parrot undoubtedly does not rise above the second or ‘‘intelligent’’ 
stage, if indeed he attains it at all. He is forced to imitate, he is taught to 
imitate; he is removed from his natural environment, confined in a cage, and 
worked upon by designing minds that happen to know that his trachea is natur- 
ally suited to the production of human-like sounds. The Mockingbird on the 
other hand earries on his mimicry in the wild state. He needs no urging—sex 
is his urge—and, unless his behavior is very misleading, he not only takes a 
‘‘Hleasurable satisfaction’’ in the results of his vocal efforts, but he does so 
beeause he dwells wpon those results with pardonable appreciation. After hay- 
ing, on so many occasions, noted the characteristic manner in which the Moek- 
ingbird ‘‘plays with’’ imitated sounds, rolling them about on his tongue one 
might say, as with the greatest gusto, trying them over and over, sometimes 
with little variations in inflection and intensity, seeming to be constantly experi- 
menting with his material—I, for one, cannot avoid thinking that his mental 
state is characterized by a sort of reflectiveness. 
I do not believe, however, that any practical considerations mark the bird’s 
reflectiveness. I do not believe that the social economy of his life in any way 
determines or is determined by the results achieved. I believe that the bird’s 
interest in his own mimicry is ‘‘artistic’’—and the social economy can take eare 
of itself as best it can. My reasons for holding the above beliefs are as follows. 
The Mockingbird, as typically shown in the above described song, imitates 
a comparatively large number of birds, and he imitates them with sufficient 
skill to deceive them, provided they are susceptible to that sort of deception. 
Of the imitated birds concerned in our particular record, five are permanent 
residents and four are summer residents in the habitat of the imitator. In the 
summer they are all more or less prominent ‘‘citizens’’ of that part of the Lower 
Sonoran Zone where our Mocker is found. And our Mocker, without any too 
fine discrimination or apparent regard for the ‘‘feelings’’ of his neighbors, 
mimics them right and left, appropriating any and all sounds that are per- 
sistent enough to impress him at all. The affair is of social significance in that 
the whole community is involved. ~The Mockingbird drags all his most promi- 
nent neighbors into the performance and holds them up to mimicry. Are his 
neighbors aware of this fact? If so, does it make any difference to them, and 
how, if at all, do they re-act? And the mimic himself—what does he derive 
from the performance? Does he gain therefrom anything in a practical way 
for himself and for his species, especially for his mate? Or, on the contrary, 
does he cause himself and his kind only trouble and confusion ? 
