THE GRASSHOPPER SPARROW. 



59 



THOSE bird lovers who disclaim all interest in entomology will be slow 

 in discovering the humble species, for its song is nearer like the chirring of 

 some insect than the voice of a bird. There always comes a day in late April 

 when the half-grown meadows and fields are suddenly found to contain from 

 one to six pairs each of these buzzing Sparrows. But with the possible excep- 

 tion of certain warblers, there is no other bird of anything like the abundance 

 of this one, whose very outline is so nearly unknown to all but the experienced 

 bird-watcher. Its coloration is the plainest possible, its station lowly, and 

 its habits secretive. Perched upon some weed-top, or standing on a fence-rail, 

 the male sends out at regular intervals a weak hissing trill which occupies 

 a fraction over a second in delivery .The sound is not exactly like that of any 

 known insect, but is comparable to the clicking of a locust — or better to the 

 shrilling of the corydalis. Again, the opening and closing of a loud-ticking 

 watch, especially if it be opened with a clatter and shut with a snap, is sug- 

 gestive of the strange performance. Later in the season a longer effort is 

 sometimes heard. First comes the full "chirr", then slow notes, three or four 

 in number, as tho the progress of the "wheels" were somewhat impeded; 

 after which the burr proceeds with the original or accelerated rapidity — the 

 whole occupying three seconds. The song will carry a hundred yards for a 

 sharp ear, or further if the ear be laid to the ground ; but a fresh cold in the 

 head will spoil the concert at thirty feet. 



Only once did I see a Grass- 

 hopper Sparrow holding forth from 

 the top of a tall sapling in a fence- 

 row. Surely he must have atoned 

 for his boldness by skulking among 

 the grass roots for two days there- 

 after. The birds require to be nearly 

 stepped upon — technically "kicked 

 out" — before they will take wing. 

 Some will move off in a flurried zig- 

 zag, but others with a direct buzzing 

 flight like a bee, — in both cases to 

 plump down into the weeds at no 

 great distance. 



The nest, a rather careless af- 

 fair of curled grasses, is placed at 

 the foot of a clover plant or grass 

 tussock, and its discovery is usually 

 due entirely to accident since the 

 female is a close sitter. One might 

 find a needle in a havstack by remov- 



