276 NATURE-STUDY REVIEW [6:9- Dec, 1910 



treatment, greater maturity is required. We are convinced that 

 the pupil who has eight years of experience with well adjusted 

 and supervised garden work will emerge with a fair knowledge 

 of the principles of gardening and, accordingly as he chooses, 

 an avocation or a vocation. 



AUTUMN OBSERVATIONS ON THE ENGLISH SPARROW 



By PHOEBE BRANDENBURG, Student in the Brooklyn Training: School for Teachers 



(Editor's Note: This manuscript was not written for 

 publication but was submitted by the instructor as an instance 

 of what an amateur observer may do.) 



One day I passed a church, one whole side of which is 

 covered with Japanese ivy. A whole community of sparrows 

 with a population of about three hundred live here. The leaves 

 of the ivy had fallen off. I attempted counting the nests, mere 

 bunches of straw stuck between the branches, upon the window- 

 sills, or under the iron coping. There were at least two hundred. 



I should never have thought to look for sparrows on the 

 side of the building unless I had been attracted by their great 

 noise. I have become acquainted with the sparrows' voices most 

 disagreeably. They live near our house in a tall maple tree. 

 In the mornings their voices are more efficient than an alarm 

 clock in waking me. I tried to distinguish between the songs 

 of males, females and young. The males have a harsh, tyrrani- 

 cal voice, as if they were ordering their households around ; the 

 females have a subdued, gossipy chatter ; and the younger birds 

 have a high-pitched chirp. The females sing very little ; they 

 seem to sing in the small intervals when the males are getting 

 their breath. 



I could distinguish between males, females, and young by 

 their appearance. The males are more darkly colored ; they 

 have a black spot on the throat, the sides of the head are chestnut. 

 The females are less brightly colored ; the sides of the head and 

 the breast are a light gray. The young can be distinguished by 

 the bright plumage that has not been soiled by the dust of the 

 streets, and the immature downy plumage on the breast and head. 



The sparrows build their nests in the queerest places. I 

 visited Prospect Park one day. I found a forsaken nest in a 

 low rhododendron bush. Some visitor must have stuck a piece 

 of paper on a twig, because a small piece of it was still hanging. 

 Behind the paper, a sparrow had built a nest. It was simply a 



