The WARBLING VIREO haunts the tall elms, maples and other shade trees of our country towns and far more often is heard than seen — a practice which was considered very bad manners when I was a boy and to which I refused to subscribe! — A rebel from the start, few herd rules were obeyed then and now in life's sunset far less are accepted.

Matthews says of this Vireo's song:

Altho, note for note, the first phrase of Chopin's beautiful Impromptu Fantasia does not correspond, there is a striking similarity in construction of the two fragments. Both bits of music roll triumphantly toward a high note with feeling, and there it ends — for the Vireo; but Chopin continues his sprightly embroidery into a slow and dignified melody.