The Fox Sparrow [Tasserella Iliaca) 

 By Charles W. Richard 



Common migrant; sexes, alike; length, 7^4 inches; nest, on or near the 

 ground; song, a short, sweet, warbling melody; arrives about the 21st of March. 



The fox sparrow is one of our commonest migrants. Soon after the cheer 

 up of the robin and the fluting of the bluebird proclaim the promise oi'f the 

 spring, you may chance to see a commotion among the old dry leaves under the 

 bushes. A reddish-brown bird is very vigorously hunting his dinner. 



The commotion among the leaves suggests a scratching hen, but beyond the 

 disturbance of the leaves, the comparison fails. Our fox sparrow is only about 

 half as large as a robin. The wings and tail are a bright red-brown, and the 

 throat, sides, and breast are white dashed generously with the same red-brown. 

 His movements are quick, nervous, alert. He scratches with both feet at once, 

 throwing them back so violently that the litter goes scurrying and uncovers 

 many a sprouting seed and lurking insect or worm. 



The illustration gives an excellent idea of the coloring of thisi sparrow. 



If it were a front view, it would show the dashes massed in three regions : 

 on each side of the throat — the left one shows nicely — and in the middle of the 

 breast as in the song sparrow. But in the song sparrow they are a brownish 

 black. 



More bird students will confuse the hermit thrush with our fox sparrow. 

 He, too, is red-brown, though not so bright, and his dashes are not so positive 

 nor so red. Remember, too, that the hermit has become conscious of his tail 

 and moves it up and down as any one may see in a minute's observation, while 

 to the fox sparrow, that worthy member is just a common rudder. 



Every spring has its surprises. Frequently a new or rare bird, sometimes an 

 unusual display of color, sometimes a momentary glimpse into the inner life 

 of a bird. It may be a chorus of song or some surpassing solo. 



It may be set down as a maxim for the encouragement of the faithful that 

 all birds which should sing at all do sing sometimes during migrations. There 

 is the fox sparrow, a bird of most engaging appearance, nearly as large as a 

 thrush and quite as fine. We feel sure that he is concealing a rare gift of song 

 under that rusty cloak of reserve. As for him his one ambition seems to be to 

 slip away unobserved, unless indeed it be to steal a sly glance at you from behind 

 some tree hole. His only note as he speeds with strong wing into cover is a 

 thrasher-like chuck of alarm. Year after year, it may be, one comes upon shy 

 companies of these handsome fellows in brush-strewn woods or in the under- 

 growth of river bottoms, but never a song do they vouchsafe. 



Finally on some favored day — there is not a breath to tell you of the good 

 fortune in store — a clear, strong, exultant song bursts upon your ears from some 



56 



