se birds are numerous and
familiar. There is probably not an orchard in all New England that is
not supplied with several of these musicians. When we consider the
millions thus distributed over this broad country, we can imagine the
sublimity of that chorus which, from the middle of April until the last
of July, must daily ascend to heaven from the voices of these birds,
not one male of which is silent, on any pleasant morning, from the
earliest flush of dawn until sunrise.

In my boyhood, an early morning-walk was one of my favorite
recreations, and never can I forget those delightful matins that
awaited me at every turn. Even then I wondered that so little
admiration was expressed for the song of the Robin, who seemed to me to
be worthy of the highest regard. The Robin, when reared in confinement,
is one of the most affectionate and interesting of birds. His powers of
song are likewise susceptible of great improvement. Though not prone to
imitation, he may be taught to sing tunes, and to imitate the notes of
other birds. I have heard one whistle "Over the water to Charlie" as
well as it could be played with a fife. Indeed, this bird is so
tractable, that I believe any well-directed efforts would never fail of
teaching him to sing any simple melody.

But what do we care about his power of learning artificial music? Even
if he could be taught to perform like a _maestro_, this would not
enhance his value as a minstrel of the woods. We are concerned with the
birds only as they are in a state of nature. It is the simplicity of
the songs of birds, as I have before remarked, that constitutes their
principal charm; and were the Robins so changed in their nature as to
relinquish their native notes, and sing only tunes hereafter, we should
listen to them with as much indifference as to the whistling of boys in
the streets.

In the elms on Boston Common, and in all the lofty trees in the suburbs
as well as in the country villages, are two little birds whose songs
are heard daily and hourly, from the middle of May until the latter
part of summer. These are the Warbling Fly-catchers (_Vireo gilvus and
V. olivaceus_). The first is commonly designated as the Warbling Vireo,
the second as the Red-eyed Vireo. The former arrives about a week or
ten days earlier than the other, and becomes silent likewise at a
somewhat earlier period. Both species are very similar in their habits,
frequenting the villages in preference to the woods,