128 FRIENDS WORTH KNOWING. 
nest in a little hollow on the ground, finding its food 
among the grass, it seems hardly to fly over the boundary- 
fence from one year’s end to another. How these finches 
are able to stand the winter in the open fields, is a mystery ; 
perhaps they go elsewhere at night, or crawl into holes; 
but you may meet them scudding across the uplands every 
month of the year, keeping company with the few meadow- 
larks that remain. 
All this month, in hedge-rows, wooded hollows, and 
thickets, beside springs of water, where very likely you 
may flush a woodeock, will be heard the low warble of the 
tree-sparrows, northern cousins of the trilling chippy of our 
lilac-bushes, and of the pretty field-sparrow that from every 
green pasture calls out, O-7-e-e-p, ¢-r-e-e-p, c-r-e-e-p, catch’m, 
catch’m, catch’m / as my mother used to phrase it for me. 
They receive the name from the habit of taking to the 
trees when disturbed, instead of diving into the bushes and 
skulking away as do the other sparrows; but the less com- 
mon name, Canada sparrow, is better. Once in awhile 
they come into the towns: I saw one yesterday in the 
horse-chestnut in front of my window, which seemed to 
be finding plenty to eat about the bark and scanty leaves 
that remained, until the English sparrows got news of his 
presence and drove’ him away in their buccaneering style. 
