Purple Finch 127 



sparrow that had been dipped into a bath of 

 raspberry juice and left out in the sun to fade. 

 But only the mature males wear this colour, 

 which is deepest on their head, rump, and breast. 

 Their sons are decidedly sparrowy until the 

 second year and their wives look so much like 

 the song sparrows that you must notice their 

 heavy, rounded bills and forked tails to make 

 sure they are not their cousins. A purple 

 finch that had been caged two years gradually 

 turned yellow, which none of his kin in the wild 

 state has ever been known to do. Why? No 

 ornithologist is wise enough to tell us, for the 

 colour of birds is still imperfectly understood. 



Like the goldfinches, these finches wander 

 about in flocks. You see them in the hemlock 

 and spruce trees feeding on the buds at the tips 

 of the branches, in the orchard pecking at the 

 blossoms on the fruit trees, in the wheat fields 

 with the goldfinches destroying the larvae of 

 the midge, or by the roadsides cracking the 

 seeds of weeds that are too hard to open for birds 

 less stout of bill. When it is time to nest, these 

 finches prefer evergreen trees to all others, al- 

 though orchards sometimes attract them. 



A sudden outbreak of spirited, warbled song 

 in March opens the purple finch's musical sea- 

 son, which is almost as long as the song spar- 

 row's. Subdued nearly to a humming in 

 October, it is still a delightful reminder of th^ 



