BIRDS

A MONTHLY SERIAL

ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY

DESIGNED TO PROMOTE

KNOWLEDGE OF BIRD-LIFE

VOLUME II.

CHICAGO
Nature Study Publishing Company

copyright, 1897

by

Nature Study Publishing Co.

chicago.

[Pg 81]

BIRDS.

Illustrated by COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.

BIRD SONG.

How songs are made
Is a mystery,
Which studied for years
Still baffles me.
—R. H. Stoddard.

OME birds are poets andsing all summer,” saysThoreau. “They are thetrue singers. Any mancan write verses in thelove season. We are most interestedin those birds that sing for the love ofmusic, and not of their mates; whomeditate their strains and amusethemselves with singing; the birdswhose strains are of deeper sentiment.”

Thoreau does not mention by nameany of the poet-birds to which healludes, but we think our selectionsfor the present month include some ofthem. The most beautiful specimenof all, which is as rich in color and“sun-sparkle” as the most polishedgem to which he owes his name, theRuby-throated Humming Bird, cannotsing at all, uttering only a shrillmouse-like squeak. The hummingsound made by his wings is far moreagreeable than his voice, for “whenthe mild gold stars flower out” it announceshis presence. Then

“A dim shape quivers about
Some sweet rich heart of a rose.”

He hovers over all the flowers thatpossess the peculiar sweetness that heloves—the blossoms of the honeysuckle,the red, the white, and theyellow roses, and the morning glory.The red clover is as sweet to him asto the honey bee, and a pair of themmay often be seen hovering over theblossoms for a moment, and then disappearingwith the quickness of aflash of light, soon to return to thesame spot and repeat the performance.Squeak, squeak! is probably their callnote.

Something of the poet is the YellowWarbler, though his song is not quiteas long as an epic. He repeats it alittle too often, perhaps, but there issuch a pervading cheerfulness aboutit that we will not quarrel with theauthor. Sweet-sweet-sweet-sweet-sweet-sweeter-sweeter!is his frequent contributionto the volume of nature, andall the while he is darting about thetrees, “carrying sun-glints on his backwherever he goes.” His song is appropriateto every season, but it is inthe spring, when we hear it first, thatit is doubly welcome to the ear. Thegrateful heart asks with Bourdillon:

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