Burr and Burton Academy - Burtonian Yearbook (Manchester, VT)

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THE BURTONIAN ONE TOUCH OF NATUa E By Norman Thompson J' The cheery whlstle of a qua1l recalls to most New England people a vxsxon of breezy upland pastures and a mottled brown bxrd oalllng melodl ously from the topmost slantmg rail of an old sheep fence Farmers say he foretells the weather calling 'More wet muon more wet' People say he only proclalms hrs name Bob Wh1te I m Bob Whlte' But whether he prognostxcates or mtroduces hxmself h1s volce lS always a welcome one Those who know the call lxsten wxth pleasure and speedlly come to love the blrd that makes xt Bob Whxte has another call more beautiful than ms boy 1sh WhlSt16 wlnch comparatlvely few have heard It IS a soft llquld yodellng whlch the male bud uses to call the scattered flock together One who walks ln the woods at sunset sometlmes hears xt from a tangle of grapevlne and :bull vbrxer If he has the patlence to push h1s way carefully through the underbrush he may see the beautxful Bob on a rock or stump utterlng the softest and most muslcal of whlstles He is telllng hls flock that here IS a. nxce place he has found where they can spend the nxght and :be safe from owls and prowlmg foxes If the vlsxtor be very patxent and he stxll he wxll presently hear the pat terlng of tiny feet on the leaves and see the brown lblrds come runnlng 1n from every d1rectxon Once ln a l1.fet1me perhaps he may see them gather go to sleep for the nlght Thelr soft WhlSt1lI1g'S and chxrpwgs at such tlmes form the most dellghtful sound one ever hears ln the woods Thls call of the male blrd IS not dlflicult to mutate Hunters who know the bxrds fw11l occaslonally use lt to call a scattered covey together or to locate the male bxrds whxch generally answer the leaders call I have fre quently called a. flock of the eb1rds 1nto a thxcket at sunset and caught run nmg gllmpses of them as they hurrled about loolfmg for the bugler who called taps All thxs occurred to me late one afternoon ln the great Zoologlcal Gardens at Antwenp I was watchxng a yard of fblrds-three or four hundred repre sentatxves of the pheasant famlly from all over the earth that were runnmg about among the rocks and artlflclal copses Some were almost as wlld as lf m thelr natnve woods especlally the smaller bxrds ln the trees others had grown tame from bemg constantly fed by V1Slt0lS It was rather confusxng to a lbxrd lover The hons were belng fed not far away A fr ghtful uproar came from the cages The coughlng roar of a male l1on made the alr shlver Cocka toos screamed Noxsy parrots squalwked hldeously Chlldren were playmg and shouting neanby Clty gardens beasts strangers all vanished ln an mstant I was a boy in the tields agam The rough New England hxllsnde grew tender and beau tlful m sunset light the hollows were rxch ln autumn glory The pasture brook sang on its way to the rlver A robin called from a crimson maple And all round was the dear low thrllllng whlstle and the patter of welcome feet on leaves as Bob Whxte came runnmg agaxn to meet hxs countryman 4 ' 17 YI 1 in a. close circle--tails together, heads out, like the spoks of a wheel, and so