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Red-tailed Hawk, 2; Northern Flicker, 3; Blue Jay, 3; American Crow, 80; Starling, 6; Meadowlark, 2; Goldfinch, 7; Junco, 5; Song Sparrow, 42; Swamp Sparrow, 2; Myrtle Warbler, 50; Brown Creeper, 2; Chickadee, 50; Golden-crowned Kinglet, 3. Total, 14 species, 256 individuals. Fairfield, Conn.
And all the wages they ask is permission to work for a living and protection from those of his fellowmen who covet the Oriole and Cardinal for their gay feathers and the Robin and Meadowlark for pot-pie." "Singing-bird pie is wicked. I would like to pound them all," said Dodo, striking her fists together, as Nat did sometimes, not making it clear whether it was pie or people she wanted to pound.
But Mr. Meadowlark himself had a voice of remarkable sweetness. And many thought that it couldn't be equalled. "Bobby Bobolink will have to sing for us, just like anybody else, before we make him a member of this Society," Buddy Brown Thrasher cried, after he had given a whistle, "Wheeu!" as if to say that he, for one, doubted Mr. Meadowlark's words.
And when he heard his wife's last remark he was so overjoyed that he sprang into the air and began to sing the happiest song he knew, while he darted back and forth above the heads of his wife and their caller. "Just listen to him!" Mrs. Bobolink cried, with an air of pride. "Can you beat that?" Mr. Meadowlark made a modest reply.
"When we begin work on our new house I shall be singing most of the time." "How often does your Society meet?" Mrs. Bobolink asked Mr. Meadowlark. "We have a little sing almost every fine day," he informed her. "But your husband needn't come to every meeting if he's too busy. And if necessary he can leave before our sings are finished except when he takes the test." "The test!" Mrs.
Well, after Buddy Brown Thrasher's remarks there was only one thing to be done. Bobby Bobolink must sing for the Society. And Mr. Meadowlark turned to him and told him that he might begin at once. So Bobby alighted on the end of a fence-rail and such a torrent of song burst upon the ears of his listeners as they had never heard before.
In her elongated picture of things there were several miles of prairie, the sun just edge-to-edge with the horizon, and any amount of blue sky above. In the sky were some birds soaring at a great height. Smaller birds went skimming over the prairie, now a golden meadowlark, then a darker scissortail snipping the air off behind it in swift flight.
From some unreclaimed common near by came the first strain of the song sparrow; so homely, because so old and familiar, yet so inexpressibly pleasing. Presently a full chorus of voices arose, tender, musical, half suppressed, but full of genuine hilarity and joy. The bluebird warbled, the robin called, the snowbird chattered, the meadowlark uttered her strong but tender note.
Witness the clear sweet whistle of the gray-crested titmouse, the soft, nasal piping of the nuthatch, the amorous, vivacious warble of the bluebird, the long, rich note of the meadowlark, the whistle of the quail, the drumming of the partridge, the animation and loquacity of the swallows, and the like.
Besides there are mo' aiggs for yo' to find on the Green Meadows than there are fo' me to find in the Green Forest. A right smart lot of birds make their nests on the ground there. There is Brer Bob White and Brer Meadowlark and Brer Bobolink and Brer Field Sparrow and Brer " "Never mind any more, Unc' Billy," interrupted Jimmy Skunk. "I know all about them.
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