Year: 1870

PEOPLE who have been born and bred
in the city know nothing of bird d-song,
except as they hear canaries or other
feathered prisoners sing from cages, who
sing for a living. This, indeed, Is not to
be despised, but il is not the singing of
the free wild birds.


Even those who live in the country sell
dom hear birds sing at their best. People
are in bed when the great concert comes
off. During May and June, birds wake
about half-past to 4 o'clock in the morn
ing. Even if one goes to sleep again it is
worth his while to be awakened to hear
this wonderful outburst. There is moth
ing else in all the COMMON phenomena of
nature that seems 80 admirable and 80 in
creasingly interesting as this.


Birds do not sing alike at all hours of
the day. An attentive ear will notice
not only very different strains, but very
different spirit. The midday singing is
casual, not prolonged, mere interjection
here and there. They sing, as it were, to
while away a little time. At evening,
birds sing next in duration and effect to
the morning song, but more tender, less
tumultuous. It is in the morning that one
must hear them, who would know the


It is very still. The dew lies heavy on
all things In the east the light is COM
ing fast, and twilight every moment gains
new radiance. Not q sound gives warn
ing of any coming song Far off one
hears the hoarse hawk of goose, or
early traveller Then one hears
single call-note, as if the chorister were
calling attention and giving out the
pitch. It is, answered in an inquiring
way by another bird, as much as to say,
"We are all ready; shall we beginS" Then
one launches out, but has not uttered two
syllables before score of birds strike In,
and then, from the fields, the forest edges,
from orchards and gardens, from the
ground, the fences and the air, there comes
such a Babel of sweet sounds, running
into each other, clashing, overlaying and
surging together, that one cannot dis
tinguish any single songster note, but
only a wild mingling of hundreds Of birds,
all singing at the very top Of their power,
This great gusb of song lasts from twenty
minutes to hall an hour, and then ceases
almost as simultaneously as it began. The
birds seem then to occupy. themselves
with their toilet and breakfast. After
which, but In far less general way, they
sing again off and on for an hour or two.
Then they scatter and pursue the regular
until toward evening, unless the day be
clouded. If the morning is overcast birds
do not have their grand song But If on
such days the noon be clear or tending to
clear up, birds become quite vocal Sum
light has much to do with their disposi-
ton to sing. The electrical condition of
the atmosphere, it is probable, has much
to do with inspiration of song.


While it Is true that all song-birds have
their greatest impulse of song at morning
and evening, there is a great difference
among birds as to intermediate. hours.
The meadow lark, the bobolink, the field
sparrow, song-sparrow, innets and finch
es, sing far more frequently during the
day than do many others.


are full as noticeable, though perhaps not
as pleasureable as their true song. If one
viii wander into the fields and hide him
self on the verge of an open forest, or
along walls well fringed with shrubs
and vines, or in garden or orchard where
birds resort, he will have an opportunity
of hearing many conversations which, If
he could interpret them, would show
what is going on in birds minds. There
are low notes of various kinds that are to
birds what conversation is to men. They
are expressions of fondness, of caution,
and of alarm.


There are call-notes, notes of curiosity,
coaxing notes, notes of aversion, of fear,
and of displeasure. There is no reason to
suppose that birds communicate con-
nected ideas as men do, but that their
feelings and wishes are communicated by
sounds, there can be no doubt. 1t is an
inarticulate and interjectional language,
and not at all to be confounded with song.


The tendency to express inward states
of feeling is clearly discernab1e among
birds and animals, and although it is the
merest rudiment, it seems like the unde-
veloped germ of that which has grown to
vast proportions in the human race
BtecHer, in ChTistSGn linton.