Mar. 1903.] 
On the Autumnal Songseason. 
395 
long interval of silence, and heard at a certain date year after 
year. Not to mention the singing migrants, varying widely from 
the Upland Plover to the Whitethroats, Solitary Vireos, Ruby- 
crowned Kinglets, the following will serve as examples. Both 
the Orioles sing in late August and early September ; Field Spar- 
rows in September, Vesper Sparrows into October, Fox Sparrows 
into November ; the Warbling and the Red eyed Vireos in Sep- 
tember ; the Maryland Yellowthroat in September, and in the 
same month the Catbird and the Brown Thrasher ; and more 
rarely I have heard the Woodthrush also, though he sang only 
the preludes without the flute-notes. I have never heard the 
Flycatchers sing again after their summer silence, nor the Tana- 
gers, nor the Martins, nor many of the Warblers and Thrushes. 
In each case, the song seems an accompaniment or precursor of 
migration. The J unco’s addition to his song, in April just before 
he departs for the north, is parallel. I cannot presume to offer 
an explanation. Tome it seems several possible things ; memory 
of the spring's journey bringing a repetition of the song ; or 
rehearsal and education of the young birds, although it seems to 
me difficult to prove that only the young birds sing ; or, as it has 
been called, “ false dawn ” of sex, a mating without the nesting, 
which I have seen the Mourning Doves do : or, perhaps fantasti- 
cally-, farewell to the land of the nests of northern summer. If it 
is true that the Grouse will drum on the old courting log even in 
October, a recognizably sentimental operation, none of the sug- 
gestions is preposterous. Why birds sing is hardly to be explained 
by anatomy. The general opinion of ornithologists seems to be 
that song is an expression of pleasure, and that birds do not sing 
in fear or sorrow. I have known a particularly gorgeous sunset 
to waken the Woodthrushes in midsummer, and it seemed to me 
not unlikely that the pleasure of the rich color sensation might 
partly account for it. It is probable that the autumnal songseason 
is a time of gayety and novelty, a recognition of old places, an 
anticipation of new, together with some associated memory of the 
choosing of the mates. The impression may be further explained 
by the character of the song in autumn. 
It is always difficult to hear and know the autumnal song- 
season, both because it is so much less in volume and continuity 
than in spring, and because it is not like that of April full- 
throated. The quality is changed, — if I were before a less formid- 
able audience, I should say sea-changed. For it is as if the birds 
were singing under water, underground. It is as if they sing 
without opening their beaks; which indeed they seem sometimes 
to do even in spring, for I have heard both the male and the 
female Thrasher sing so in the nesting, each with the twig or 
straw in mouth ; and I have never heard the Hermit Thrush in 
spring migration sing in any other way. This last instance may 
