sly with his journey up the tree; and it is not in the least
unlikely that he may have another and better song, which he reserves for
times of more leisure.[19]

Our American wood-warblers are all to be classed among the minor
songsters; standing in this respect in strong contrast with the true Old
World warblers, of whose musical capacity enough, perhaps, is said when
it is mentioned that the nightingale is one of them. But, comparisons
apart, our birds are by no means to be despised, and not a few of their
songs have a good degree of merit. That of the well-known summer
yellow-bird may be taken as fairly representative of the entire group,
being neither one of the best nor one of the poorest. He, I have
noticed, is given to singing late in the day. Three of the New England
species have at the same time remarkably rough voices and black
throats,--I mean the black-throated blue, the black-throated green, and
the blue golden-wing,--and seeing that the first two are of the genus
_Dendroeca_, while the last is a _Helminthophaga_, I have allowed
myself to query (half in earnest) whether they may not, possibly, be
more nearly related than the systematists have yet discovered. Several
of the warbler songs are extremely odd. The blue yellow-back's, for
example, is a brief, hoarse, upward run,--a kind of scale exercise; and
if the practice of such things be really as beneficial as music teachers
affirm, it would seem that this little beauty must in time become a
vocalist of the first order. Nearly the same might be said of the
prairie warbler; but his _etude_ is a little longer and less hurried,
besides being in a higher key. I do not call to mind any bird who sings
a downward scale. Having before spoken of the tendency of warblers to
learn two or even three set tunes, I was the more interested when, last
summer, I added another to my list of the species which aspire to this
kind of liberal education. It was on the side of Mount Clinton that I
heard two Blackburnians, both in full sight and within a few rods of
each other, who were singing two entirely distinct songs. One of
these--it is the common one, I think--ended quaintly with three or four
short notes, like _zip_, _zip_, _zip;_ while the other was not unlike a
fraction of the winter wren's melody. Those who are familiar with the
latter bird will perhaps recognize the phrase referred to if I call it
the _willie, willie, winkie,_--with a triple accent on the first
syllable