THK SONG OF THE RUBY-CROWXED KINGLET. 



Kv Dr. M( 



"A bird's song is the most beautiful music 

 I in the world." These are the words ot my 

 friend, Stewart White, and he echoes the sen- 

 timent at least of all refined lovers of Nature. 

 It is not necessary that a person should be an 

 ornithologist in order that one may appreciate 

 the melody from Nature's conservatory. On 

 the contrary, it happens lamentably often that 

 individuals who aspire to a position of scienti- 

 fic fame as writers on the subject of birds, are 

 sadly deficient in the comprehension of many 

 points of interest alike pleasurable to the a;s- 

 thete and utilitarian. Comprehensively, then, 

 the songs of birds are to be studied by orni- 

 thologists and lovers of harmony in the wood- 

 lands and fields, and to those having cultivated 

 the ear much pleasure is derived from observa- 

 tion and comparison of the various notes, even 

 where the several performers are not identified. 

 '^'-Tre is no study more pleasing to the 

 ^. iller in our groves than to become ac- 

 quainted with the voices of our feathered 

 friends, not only in song, but in all moods and 

 passions, represented by call notes indicative 

 of love, excitement and fear. These call notes, 

 as well as the songs, should be considered not 

 only from the standpoint of musical superiority, 

 but as well from the sentimentality emanating, 

 as must result from associations with these 

 delicate yet vivacious dwellers of our forests 

 and fields. I can readily conceive that associ- 

 ations of a tender, refining nature, may be ab- 

 sent in some persons, but to the observer, the 

 one who enjoys the many pleasures of out-door 

 life, the songs of birds are ever a fruitful source 

 of pleasing retrospection of agreeable days in 

 the woodland. 



One of the earliest songsters of merit which 

 greet us in the latitude of New York City and 

 well west on the parallel is the ruby-crowned 

 kinglet. Coming as it does about April 20, 

 often earlier, the medley of joyous notes are 

 doubly welcome, and when heard on a cold, 

 disagreeable day, the song seems to inspire 

 one with hope in waiting for warmer days and 

 fairer skies. 



The song of this dainty, sprightly-winged 

 gem, is a sweet warble of great penetration, 



but it is still in no way coarse or stridulous in 

 any of its notes, and so ecstatic is the clear, 

 rippling melody, that one has to pause and 

 with visible anxiety listen to its repetition, if he 

 be a lover of music and vivacious, changeable 

 warblings. Never a break or flaw in the song 

 of this bird, and the first note of morning is as 

 clear and full as the last at sunset. 



These true musicians of Nature have no need 

 of practice to fit their voices for a woodland 

 concert, and, even when all sing in chorus, 

 there is not a false note uttered, though there 

 may be twenty species in this choir of varied 

 singers. 



The ear of the true musician is from neces- 

 sity attracted by the quavering, varied nstes, 

 as often as repeated by this sweet singer, and 

 to my mind it takes a high rank for excellence 

 among our many fine singing birds. The 

 notes, as with most birds, are difficult to de- 

 scribe, but can be expressed with the pen, so 

 that one familiar with the refined song can 

 recognize it at a glance, even from this poor 

 imitation. It begins with a few low, half-artic- 

 ulate notes, soft and melodious, rises to quite a 

 pitch, and ends with a trembling, exquisitely- 

 modulated warbling. It is unlike the song ot 

 any other bird of my acquaintance, and no 

 comparison that the writer can draw could pro- 

 perly furnish a description of this elegant song- 

 ster's ditty. In our inefficient way we may de- 

 scribe the notes on paper, trusting for leniency 

 on the part of readers, and assuring those who 

 are better educated in bird melodies than I that 

 the interpretation is my best eflbrt. The re- 

 frain runs in this wise : Choi choi choi — qui 

 qui qui — cJieedledee chreedledei chreedledee. 



The notes begin and end abruptly, and often, 

 when half finished, the song stops, and the 

 active fellow gives voice to a few energetic 

 staccato call notes. 



The ruby-crown does not stop with us, being 

 merely a transient in my State, and passing far 

 to the north to nest. Of its nesting habits but 

 very little is known, although the birds are 

 abundant in their vernal and autumnal migra- 



