116 SONGS OUT OF SEASON. 



aside his harp. All through the month of August 

 he plays upon it con spirito. When September 

 comes he still sings, though his notes lack their 

 previous vigor. On October 10 he had changed 

 his tune from the lively trill of spring and mid- 

 summer to a low, twittering warble. In November 

 I was frequently greeted with that warble as I 

 strolled along the margin of a pool on the com- 

 mons. On December 9 one of these birds trilled in 

 a clear, resonant tone. On the 13th it was the low, 

 sweet warble again. On the 19th he regaled me 

 again with his lively minstrelsy. 



Have you ever heard this indomitable musician 

 singing a Christmas carol? I have the pleasure of 

 recording such a piece of good fortune. Christmas 

 morning was rather cold, but the sky was cloudless, 

 and as I strolled out to the pond my ears caught the 

 jubilant "Glory to God in the highest" of my 

 favorite lyrist — a fact of which I feel a little 

 proud, and I think justly. 



Two weeks of January had passed and the 

 weather was growing colder, and yet I had not 

 heard tlie song of my sparrow, though a friend told 

 me he had heard a bird singing on the morning of 

 the fifth. That did not satisfy me ; I wanted to 

 hear it myself. At last, on the sixteenth, as I was 



