Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-05-11
SUNRISE SONGS
BY SAMUEL SCOVILLE, JR.


The Baltimore oriole came this morning
CMay y. In my sleep through the sum-
mer rain 1 heard his loud contrato Joy
call.
Here! here, here! I'm herel he
caroled to all the world from the white
oak tree beside my sleeping porch. He
had only sung a few strains when an en-
vious brown thrasher began to mimic
! him from his bush, and then flew over
to the tiptop of the orioles tree and
! burst into a song as II to say. I'll show
| you what real singing is" Taking the
orioles two deep, mellow notes. tho
| thrasher wove around them a wonderful
melody of trllls and runs and grace notes,
coming back again and again TO the
orioe call, giving it, however, a higher,
more silvery tmbre.
The poor oriole never had a chance.
Now and then from the other side of the
tree he would whistle his double notes
only TO be drowned I'm flood of thrasher
music At last he gave II up and pecked
at the oak sprays and pretended that he
was too hungry to sing anyway All the
time the thrasher sang, half fluttered its
wings and swished about its brown tail
like the grand opera singer that It Is.
When II had finished, 1t gave a final flirt
Of It's tail and dove down into n hawthorn
bush The orlole tried few times more,
but he sounded less joyous than at first
At last he hoped over near the crotch
where a pair of robins have their nest
as If to say, well, what do you think
of that" Mr.. Robin was very busy In
bringing in long, fat nlghtwalkers TO
Mrs. Robin on the nest, swallowing every
third one himself in n very gentlemanly
or what Is the same thing, in a very
robinly way. He chirped cheerfully,
which probably meant that music was all
well enough in it's place. but that this
was breakfast time. With a final call the
oriole flew away, flash of orange and
black, the colors of Lord Baltimore,
whose name he bears.
The Indians called him the fire bird
and the first settlers the golden robin"
but he ought to be called the Princeton
oriole and, along with tho tiger be one
of the totems of that university.
Down Mt the foot of the hill, through
the drops, chimed the notes of the wood
thrush with beautiful rising and falling
cadence. If his song were not always
marred by grating bass note, which
comes at the end of every measure, the
woodthrush would equal his cousin tine
hermit thrush. In front of me on the
lawn was the rosy glow of a pink dog
wood like a statue of spring. From un-
derneath 1t sounded the five strange minor
notes of the white-throated sparrow. who
wears n white striped cap and a snowy
ascot tie. To me he always sings the open
ing notes of that old song. "Forsaken Am
l." To others he says, Canada. Cana
da," or Peabody, Peabody" hence his
names, Canada bird and Peabody spar
row.
Outside on the porch beside me house
wren gurged out his little ripping song.
and from the hawthorn bush came the
chipping sparrow. who Is quite proud OF
looks at you for approval whenever he
stops for breath. From beyond the mead
ow sounded the harsh cries of the blue
Jays, those silver-and blue pirates who
last year raided the robins nest and
carried off four blue eggs
Then family from the woods beyond
the garden came a song that I had not
expected for a week. | sat up in my ham,
mock and listened with all my ears. II
was like the song of hoarse robin. only
slower and more laborious, and | knew
that the tanager, that scarlet flame of
bird, was back. l felt quite proud of
myself to recognize him at once. for
when you can tell instantly the differ
ence between the songs of a robin,
tanager and n rose-breasted grosbeak, or
between a song sparrow and a vespei
sparrow. you have passed your entrance
examination in bird music.
But now 1t is past seven and, though the
music was az beautiful as ever. I agreed
with Mr. Robin that breakfast was more
important.