A LOWLAND TRTLLER. 95 



Far from it. The trills are soft and low, loud 

 and clear, soraetimes even harsh and broken, 

 more frequently exceedingly sweet, cheery, or 

 plaintive, as the bird chooses. The long notes 

 are often loud and swelling, making an en- 

 chanting crescendo, and then they become sub- 

 dued and die away in a cadence of chastened 

 sweetness. Seldom are two songs delivered in 

 precisely the same key. 



Yet there is something about our minstrel's 

 songs that always marks them for his own. 

 You never mistake any of his score or more of 

 trills, varied as they are, for the song of any 

 other bird. He never borrows a time from 

 his neighbors, but always sings his own com- 

 positions. He is an original little fellow, you 

 see. Never does he make the mistake of trill- 

 ing the run of the grass iinch, the chippy, or 

 the bush sparrow. Shall we call him the Mo- 

 zart of the sparrow chorus ? No bird deserves 

 it more, for he will sing all the year round in 

 any latitude, if the weather is not too cold. 

 Often I have heard him in January, February, 

 and March, even when there were flakes of snow 

 flying in the air. The best singing I ever heard 

 him do was in February, during a spell of sum- 

 mery weather. But when the extremely hot 

 weather of July and August is at hand, silenc- 



