THE SONG SPARROW 27 
New England in crowds,— along with robins 
and red-winged blackbirds,—and are to be 
heard singing on all hands, especially in the 
neighborhood of water. They remain until late 
autumn, and here and there one will be found 
even in midwinter. 
The song, for which this sparrow is particu- 
larly distinguished, is a bright and lively strain, 
nothing very great in itself, perhaps, but thrice 
welcome for being heard so early in the season, 
when the ear is hungry after the long winter 
silence. Its chief distinction, however, is its 
amazing variety. Not only dono two birds sing 
precisely alike, but the same bird sings many 
tunes. 
Of this latter fact, which I have known some 
excellent people to be skeptical about, you can 
readily satisfy yourself, —and there is nothing 
like knowing a thing at first hand, —if you will 
take the pains to keep a singer under your eye 
at the height of the musical season. You will 
find that he repeats one strain for perhaps a 
dozen times, without the change of a note; then 
suddenly he comes out with a song entirely dif- 
ferent. This second song he will in turn drop 
for a third, and so on. The bird acts, for all the 
world, as if he were singing hymns, of so many 
verses each, one after another. 
