1156 IT.S. NATIONAL MTSEUM BULLETIN 23 7 part 2 



thoroughness with which they clean up a patch before moving on. 

 On an area 18 inches square in a weedy ditch where they had been 

 feeding, he found 1,130 half seeds, only 2 whole ones, and only 6 

 seeds left in the whole field, which, he says, was devoid of weeds the 

 next year. 



Since Judd's time some doubt has been expressed of the value of 

 the sparrow tribe. Certainly Judd overestimated the thoroughness 

 of their gleanings, else they coidd not return year after year to the 

 same areas, nor woidd they wander so freely over their little terri- 

 tories, only to cover the same ground another day. And certainly 

 there is no scarcity of weeds in the country regardless of the great 

 hordes of these birds. The reproductive capacities of the plants 

 easily outdo the eating capacities of the sparrows, and there will 

 probably always be enough weeds left to bother the farmer and 

 propagate the species. Indeed, if there were no sparrows, the over- 

 crowding of the plants themselves would soon establish a balance. 



But if not actually beneficial, these birds are certainly harmless. 

 They occasionally sample grain, but to no appreciable extent. The 

 charge has been made that they distribute rather than destroy the 

 seeds, but this accusation was refuted by Judd's study. He found 

 that in the thousands of stomachs containing ragweed, there was never 

 an unbroken seed. The thoroughness of avian digestion prevents the 

 evacuation of anytliing but a most insignificant portion of the food 

 ingested. 



In the summer the tree sparrow is of no economic significance, 

 as it nests beyond the reaches of civilization. But whether or not 

 we can evaluate the species in cold dollars and cents, it will always 

 be welcome as a gentle, cheerful little creature in our winter fields 

 and gardens. 



Behavior. — Since the earliest days of nature lore in America, writers 

 of the winter fields have thrilled to the cheerful warble of these 

 hardy little visitors from the North. I shall never forget my first 

 flock of tree sparrows, feeding companionably at the weedy border 

 of the marsh, hanging on the weed tops like animated Christmas 

 tree ornaments, dropping lightly to the ground and etching their 

 delicate tracery of claw prints in the snow. The air was mellow 

 with their soft warbles, and to me they have always said "Marguerite, 

 Marguerite." Erect, dignified, they are at some times more vivacious 

 than others. On stormy days in midwinter they may huddle quietly 

 in the lee of a wall, while in the springtime, or indeed any sunny 

 day, we may find them playing a gay game of tag through the 

 shrubbery. 



Keynotes of the tree sparrow's character are gentleness and un- 

 suspiciousness. Easily baited in large numbers, quiet in the hand, 



