Indeed, the event of my last visit to the mountain was meeting one of
these brilliant creatures near the summit, in full song. The breeze
carried the notes far and wide. He seemed to enjoy the elevation, and
I imagined his song had more scope and freedom than usual. When he had
flown far down the mountain-side, the breeze still brought me his
finest notes. In plumage he is the most brilliant bird we have. The
bluebird is not entirely blue; nor will the indigo-bird bear a close
inspection, nor the goldfinch, nor the summer redbird. But the tanager
loses nothing by a near view; the deep scarlet of his body and the
black of his wings and tail are quite perfect. This is his holiday
suit; in the fall be becomes a dull yellowish green,--the color of the
female the whole season.
One of the leading songsters in this choir of the old Barkpeeling is
the purple finch or linnet. He sits somewhat apart, usually on a dead
hemlock, and warbles most exquisitely. He is one of our finest
songsters, and stands at the head of the finches, as the hermit at the
head of the thrushes. His song approaches an ecstasy, and, with the
exception of the winter wren's, is the most rapid and copious strain
to be heard in these woods.
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