ct of singing, both out of doors
and in captivity, and I am convinced that he proved the theory of the
syringeal origin of bird song to be an erroneous one.

Only two reasons need be adduced for this conclusion. First, it is
unreasonable to suppose that the rich, loud, clear notes of the
thrasher, the cardinal, and the mockingbird, lilting across the fields
and capable of being heard a long distance, are generated far down in
the lyrist's chest by the vibrating of the margin of a tiny mucous
membrane. If it had its genesis there, it surely would display a
muffled or guttural or sepulchral quality. In the second place, it has
been proved by actual dissection that the shrike, which possesses no
song gift worthy of the name, has a well-developed syrinx, while the
mockingbird, our feathered minstrel _par excellence_, has a syrinx that
is absolutely insignificant. On the other hand, the shrike's larynx,
including the glottis, is a clumsy affair, whereas the mocker's larynx
is indeed wonderfully made.

[Illustration: Meadow Lark]

It must not be supposed, however, that the syrinx does not perform an
important function in the production of avian melody. It acts as a
regulator or meter of the air impelled from the lungs. By means of the
folds or membranous valves the mouths of the bronchial tubes may be
opened widely or almost closed, and in this way, to quote from Mr.
Thompson, "the bird is enabled to measure in the nicest manner the
amount of air thrown from the lungs into the trachea." In producing a
staccato, for example, the valves flop up and down, doling out the air
at the proper intervals and in precisely the right quantities.

Indeed, nothing in the world of Nature is more wonderful than the gift
of bird song, and nothing proves more clearly the doctrine of design,
or, at least, of adaptation to a specialized purpose.

BIRD FLIGHT*

*Reprinted by permission from "The Evening Post," New York.

The question why man cannot fly may be answered in a very simple and
yet satisfactory manner: He has not been organically constructed for
that purpose. That may seem like cutting the Gordian knot, but, after
all, it is the only explanation that can be given. You might as well
ask why man cannot clutch a perch with his foot after the manner of a
bird or a monkey, for the response would be the same--his foot was made
for walking, and not for prehensile purposes. On the other hand, the
bird cannot grasp an o