As we tramp on and the twigs snap
under our feet and our voices are toss?
ed In echo from tree to tree the birds
scurry away or silently hide behind
their curtain of leaves. They act a
good deal as do tho village children
when city people are riding through
the country. They run Into the house
or barn and keep very quiet. But If
you pay no attention to those children
they will begin to peek out of the win?
dows or behind the wood house, and
then they will gradually come out and
watch you as you disappear down the
roud. Such ls the way the feathered
musicians ott the forest act. When you
first enter the woods and call to them
to sing they will keep as silent as the
grave, but if you Ile down at the foot
of some giant oak and pretend you are
asleep the ninny voices of the birds
will then begin their seemingly endless
chorus. First there will be a twitter,'
then an answering call, then a duet,
then a third voice will break in and
make the trio. Then off In the distance
a woodpecker will beat time, like the
drumstick tapping upon the sheepskin.
Then a great wave of harmony, like
Handel's "Halleluiah Chorus," will roll
over you. Then sudden silence. Again
the music will start, and a new concert
will be masterfully rendered, each
bird's voice not much in Itself, but
each an essential part of the groat
wood's chorus.
An Inspiration.
