OUR HOME BIRDS. 
165 
for the dog ; Caesar starts up, wags his tail, and runs 
.to meet his master. He squeals out like a hurt 
chicken ; and the hen hurries about with hanging 
wings and bristled feathers, clucking to protect the 
injured brood. The barking of the dog, the mewing 
of the cat, the creaking of a passing wheelbarrow 
follow with great truth and rapidity. He repeats 
the tune taught him by his master, though of con- 
siderable length, fully and faithfully. He runs over 
the quiverings of the canary and the clear whistlings 
of the Virginia nightingale or red-bird with such 
superior execution and effect that the mortified song- 
sters feel their own inferiority, and become altogether 
silent ; while he seems to triumph in their defeat by 
redoubling his exertions/ 
“ It is thought by some that the excessive fondness 
of this bird for mimicry injures his own song. ‘ His 
elevated imitations of the brown thrush are frequently 
interrupted by the crowing of cocks ; and the warb- 
lings of the blue-bird, which he manages exquisitely, 
are mingled with the screaming of swallows or the 
cackling of hens ; amidst the simple melody of the 
robin we are suddenly surprised by the shrill reiter- 
ations of the whip-poor-will ; while the notes of the 
killdeer, blue jay, martin, Baltimore, and twenty 
others succeed with such imposing reality that we 
look round for the originals, and discover with aston- 
