THE IPSWICH SPARROW. 32 
they pass northward late in March and during the first week in April. 
They are said to reappear gradually on Sable Island in the month of May. 
Near New York City I have occasionally seen, in March, small restless 
parties of five or six, evidently migrants, as well as numerous single birds, 
in places where none were to be found at previous visits made in February. 
During some winters, however, a good many may be found on Long 
Island, as is borne out by my own observations and those of others who have 
searched for them; but in these winters a considerable influx of birds is 
usually perceptible just about the middle of March. I have taken speci- 
mens in every month from October to April, and others have done 
the same in Massachusetts; although as a rule mid-winter specimens even 
in the latitude of New York City are not always discoverable. November 
and March are the months when the greatest number of birds may be con- 
fidently expected, and a dozen or more may sometimes be secured in a 
single day. Still they are seldom really abundant, and are usually so 
scattered over large areas of bleak sand-hills, that each specimen in one’s 
collection means many a mile trudged through yielding sand that slips from 
beneath the feet at every step. 
Spring specimens usually show evidences of the spring moult, which is 
seldom completed (especially about the head and eye-ring) while the birds 
are in New England. The fall moult is accomplished before they return, 
and is in progress during August, judging from some skins sent me from 
Sable Island. While there, I learned that they had perceptibly decreased 
in numbers in recent years, and were possibly not more than one tenth 
as abundant as they were five years ago. Itis probable that their natural 
enemies already alluded to are responsible for this decrease. What will be 
their fate when their island home shall have been entirely submerged, is a 
question for future observers to settle, —it is not likely to be one of our day 
and generation. 
Hapsits. 
While the birds linger in their winter haunts they are apt to be shy, hiding 
away singly among the thicker tufts and patches of the brown beach-grass 
that is so characteristic a feature of the sand-dunes. We all of us know 
the stiff, sharp points of this grass in the midst of each tuft, on which we 
carelessly place the hand, and we have all of us seen the magic circles traced 
in the sand by the tips of the drooping blades as they sway in the breeze. 
Here we look for the Sparrows, and perhaps may spy one scampering 
away rapidly, head down, in and out among the tussocks. Now andthen he 
stops to take an observation, standing up very straight as if on tiptoe to get 
a better view of you through the slender screen of grass-blades. He seldom 
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