repeated. He sings, apparently, for the love of music, and is as merry
and gay when his mate is absent as when she is at his side, proving that
his singing is not solely for her benefit.

So good an authority as Dr. Coues vouches for the exquisite vocalization
of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet. Have you ever heard a wire vibrating? Such
is the call note of the Ruby, thin and metallic. But his song has a
fullness, a variety, and a melody, which, being often heard in the
spring migration, make this feathered beauty additionally attractive.
Many of the fine songsters are not brilliantly attired, but this fellow
has a combination of attractions to commend him as worthy of the bird
student's careful attention.

Of the Hermit Thrush, whose song is celebrated, we will say only, "Read
everything you can find about him." He will not be discovered easily,
for even Olive Thorne Miller, who is presumed to know all about birds,
tells of her pursuit of the Hermit in northern New York, where it was
said to be abundant, and finding, when she looked for him, that he had
always "been there" and was gone. But one day in August she saw the bird
and heard the song and exclaimed: "This only was lacking--this crowns my
summer."

The Song Sparrow can sing too, and the Phoebe, beloved of man, and the
White-breasted Nuthatch, a little. They do not require the long-seeking
of the Hermit Thrush, whose very name implies that he prefers to flock
by himself, but can be seen in our parks throughout the season. But the
Sparrow loves the companionship of man, and has often been a solace to
him. It is stated by the biographer of Kant, the great metaphysician,
that at the age of eighty he had become indifferent to much that was
passing around him in which he had formerly taken great interest. The
flowers showed their beautious hues to him in vain; his weary vision
gave little heed to their loveliness; their perfume came unheeded to
the sense which before had inhaled it with eagerness. The coming on of
spring, which he had been accustomed to hail with delight, now gave him
no joy save that it brought back a little Sparrow, which came annually
and made its home in a tree that stood by his window. Year after year,
as one generation went the way of all the earth, another would return to
its birth-place to reward the tender care of their benefactor by singing
to him their pleasant songs. And he longed for their return in the
spring with "an eagerness and intensi