One of the very commonest of birds in Jamaica, bold and forward in his manners, inviting rather than avoiding notice, of striking though not showy colours, the Mocking-bird would be sure to attract the attention of a stranger, even were he destitute of those unrivalled powers of song that have commanded the praise of all auditors. The faculty of imitating the voices of other birds, which has given to this species its ordinary appellation, has been ably described by Wilson and others, as well as the variety of notes, apparently original, which it commands. The former has often caused me no small disappointment; hearing the voice of, as I supposed, some new bird, or some that I was in want of, I have found, after creeping cautiously and perhaps with some difficulty to the spot, that it proceeded from the familiar personage before us. With respect to the latter, I have been assured by an observant friend, George Marcy, Esq., of the Kepp, that he, on one occasion, counted no less than eighteen different notes, proceeding from a Mocking-bird perched on a tree in his garden. It is in the stillness of the night, when, like his European namesake, he delights “—— with wakeful melody to cheer The livelong hours,” that the song of this bird is heard to advantage. Sometimes, when, desirous of watching the first flight of _Urania Sloaneus_, I have ascended the mountains before break of day, I have been charmed with the rich gushes and bursts of melody proceeding from this most sweet songster, as he stood on tiptoe on the topmost twig of some sour-sop or orange tree, in the rays of the bright moonlight. Now he is answered by another, and now another joins the chorus, from the trees around, till the woods and savannas are ringing with the delightful sounds of exquisite and innocent joy. Nor is the season of song confined, as in many birds, to that period when courtship and incubation call forth the affections and sympathies of the sexes towards each other. The Mocking-bird is vocal at all seasons; and it is probably owing to his permanency of song, as well as to his incomparable variety, that the savannas and lowland groves of Jamaica are almost always alive with melody, though our singing birds are so few.