--

"... Anent your paper ... I have had some curious experiences of a
similar nature; one was in an uncarpeted room, the house being deserted
at that time. I stood still, planning certain things and humming softly
to myself. Presently, a shadowy something caught my eye, and I
discovered a little mouse, very young evidently, then another and
another, until four were near. I did not attribute their tameness to
music, and in surprise turned to see if there were others about.
Instantly they scampered off, my action having frightened them.

"When I finally arrived at the conclusion that music had attracted them,
I sat down and began to hum, this time with an open sound instead of a
closed tone, and in a second the little creatures were out again,
standing perfectly still, as if the sound gave them delight. Gradually I
swelled the tone, and yet they were undisturbed until I became too bold
and gave a clear, sharp, full sound, and this at once frightened them.

"_I experimented in this way for more than a month, never missing my
audience once_, and by this time the little creatures, grown so fat and
bold as to cause serious damage, were ruthlessly caught and killed.

"I heard Kate Field, about four years ago, when, as the guest of Mr.
Stedman, she told several interesting stories, relate an experience of
her own, wherein, one night early in her life, she had leaned against
the walls of the Campanile, gray and phantom-like in the moonlight, and,
singing softly to herself, was surprised at discovering several little
lizards lying about on the stones, their heads held alertly in the air
as if entranced by the sound of her voice. She, too, experimented with
the varying sounds, and from time to time, and evidently looked back
upon the experiment as one of rare interest to herself."

Tree lizards will listen completely entranced to the music of a good
whistler, and will allow themselves to be captured while thus
inthralled. Some lizards are fairly good musicians themselves, notably
the tree lizards of the East Tennessee mountains. I have repeatedly
heard them singing on the slopes of Chilhowie and adjacent peaks.

Burroughs writes very entertainingly of a singing lizard, or, rather,
salamander: "... Approach never so cautiously the spot from which the
sound proceeds and it instantly ceases, and you may watch for an hour
without hearing it again. 'Is it a frog,' I said--'the small tree-frog,
the piper of the marshes--repeating