- THE RUSTY SONG SPARROW. | 
a8 
Familiar he certainly is; for while he has none of the vulgar obtrusive- 
ness of Passer domesticus, nor confesses any love for mere bricks and 
mortar, there is not a weedy back lot outside of the fire limits which he has 
not gladdened with his presence, nor a disordered wood-pile or brush-heap 
which he has not explored. Much 
lurking under cover in time of rain 
has darkened his plumage beyond 
that of the eastern bird, and close 
association with the fallen monarchs 
of the forest has reddened it, until 
he himself looks like a rusty frag- 
ment of a mouldering fir log. 
It is as a songster, however, that 
we know this sparrow best. Silver- 
tongue’s melody is like sunshine. 
bountiful and free and ever grate- 
ful. Mounting some bush or up- 
turned root, he greets his childish 
listeners with “Peace, peace, peace 
be unto you, my children.” And 
that is his message to all the world, 
“Peace, and good-will.” Once we 
sat stormbound at the mouth of our tent, and, mindful of the unused 
cameras, grumbled at the eternal drizzle. Whereupon the local poet flitted 
to a favorite perch on a stump hard by, and, throwing back his head, sang, 
with sympathetic earnestness, ‘Cheer up! Cheer up!. Count your many 
mercies now.” Of course he did say exactly that, and the childish emphasis 
he put upon the last word set us to laughing, my partner and me, until there 
was no more thought of complaint. 
SONG SPARROW ASLEEP. 
Even in winter the brave-hearted bird avails himself of the slightest 
pretext—an hour of sunlight or a rise of temperature—to mount a bush 
and rehearse his cheerful lay. The song is not continuous, but it is fre- 
quently repeated thru periods of several minutes, and is followed by little 
intervals of placid contemplation. 
But no matter how gentle a bird’s disposition may be, there is ample 
use, alack! for the note of warning and distrust. When, therefore, the 
Song Sparrow’s nesting haunts are invaded, the bird emits a chip or chirp, 
still musical, indeed, but very anxious. In winter the resident birds deny 
themselves even this characteristic cry; and, except for the occasional out- 
bursts of full song, they are limited to a high nasal tss, which seems to 
serve the purpose of a flocking, or recognition, call. Song Sparrows are 
not really gregarious birds; nor are they even seen in close proximity save 
