FAMILY Fringillidz. 
fissures of the rocks on the mountains in May. The out- 
side of their nest is of grass, the middle of feathers, and 
the lining, the down of the arctic fox. They sing finely 
near their nest.” That seems rather meagre informa- 
tion from a musical point of view! Thompson says one 
time when a chill blizzard was blowing on the plains he 
saw the little bird ‘‘ gleefully chasing his fellows, and 
pouring out as he flew his sweet voluble song with as 
much spirit as ever Skylark has in the sunniest days 
of June.” Nor does that throw very much light upon 
the situation! It is plain, also, that the few whistled 
chirps we hear from him in mid-winter do not fore- 
shadow his ability to sing the sweet melody which ap- 
parently he must sing during the nuptial period spent in 
the far north, for Mr. A. Hagerup testifies to the excep- 
tional excellence of the bird’s music in no doubtful 
terms: he says, ‘‘In Greenland his song is a sweet and 
pleasing melody, though it is rather disconnected and 
delivered in short stanzas,—a warble is perhaps the 
English term best adapted to describe its character.” 
This is at least definite and conveys the impression that 
the song is not unlike that of the Purple Finch in struc- 
ture although it is evidently cut up in the same fashion 
as that of the Goldfinch, but perhaps in shorter measures. 
But the Snow Bunting in our part of the world is more 
interesting in color than in song, for we can scarcely 
expect to hear his music within the boundaries of our 
northern States. His appearance in the winter season is 
preéminently picturesque, for he furnishes the artist 
with all the color and movement necessary to make 
a winter bird attractive and beautiful; his is a combina- 
tion of the white of the whirling snowflake, the rusty 
brown of the sear leaf, and the black of the frost-bitten 
plant-stem—all tones of color admirably adapted to his 
self-protection.* He is graceful, too, in every move- 
ment, and especially so when he skims in a low and 
glancing flight across the snow with a dozen of his 
fellows in close company. 
* What skulking fox would see him in a costume like that among 
the shadows on the snow beneath the withered stems of the dead 
golden-rod ' 
84 
