A distinguished ornithologist has said that little birds have two ways of making themselves attractive--by melody and by bright plumage; and that most species excel in one or the other way; and that the acquisition of gay colours by a species of a sober-coloured melodious family will cause it to degenerate as a songster.

He is speaking of the redstart.
Unfortunately for the rule there are too many exceptions.

Thus confining ourselves to a single family--that of the finches--in our own islands, the most modest coloured have the least melody, while those that have the gayest plumage are the best singers--the goldfinch, chaffinch, siskin, and linnet.

Nevertheless it is impossible to listen for any length of time to the redstart, and to many redstarts, without feeling, almost with irritation, that its strain is only the prelude of a song--a promise never performed; that once upon a time in the remote past it was a sweet, copious, and varied singer, and that only a fragment of its melody now remains.

The opening rapidly warbled notes are so charming that the attention is instantly attracted by them.