APPENDIX. 147 



Soxg-Sparrow. — Contin. 



softened by the sadness which seems to breathe almost with sentiment, 

 from the decaying and now silent face of Narure." — Xuttall, T. : ^fannal 

 of the Omith. of the U. S. and Canada, pp. 563-564. 



" The song-sparrow flushes with music as soon as winter relaxes in the 

 least, finding full voice in March, when those who have worried through 

 the cold greet the new arrivals from the South, and all together fill a chorus 

 to which the shrubbery resounds unceasingly, till some sharp wind comes 

 along to remind the birds that time is fleeting, though their art be never 

 so long. But the storm must repeat its wamings to dampen even an ardor 

 that is never entirely quenched ; for passion lingers long in the breasts 

 that have once felt the glow, and it take5 a good while to sober the song- 

 sparrows after their summer's hey-day. "We still hear their trill, like a 

 memory rather than a hope, when the woods and fields have reached the 

 golden gates of fruition." — Steams, W. A. : New England Bird-Life (ed. 

 by Dr. Elliott Coues), part i. p. 257. 



For interesting notes on song periods, the effect of the moult and 

 fatness on the singing of birds, and on the peculiarities of vocal delivery, 

 etc., see Bicknell, E. P. : A Study of the Singing of our Birds. ( The 

 Auk, ToL L, 1884, pp. 60, 126, 209, 322; Tol. ii., 1885, pp. 144, 249.) 



White-bellied Xutliateli. {See p. 29.) 



This briefest paper of all throws more light on the 

 character of the author than many of the longer ones. 

 At the time it was written he was surrounded by affec- 

 tionate friends, and yet he could say that this little sprite 

 was one of the most "intimate" and "important" of 

 them. The words are literally true. Almost the last 

 thing he wrote was a further description of this bird : 



" On the coldest winter day, when all seems turning to 

 ice, what staggers our reason and commands our admira- 

 tion more than to see a bit of flesh and bone not larger 

 than your thumb, done up in feathers in such a way as 

 to defy the cold, darting round, running up and down 

 rough sides of the great forest-trees, with his little wire 



