January 
tions of their presence there could hardly be 
any such thing as winter ornithology, as the 
naturalist relies so much more on his ear than 
on his eye to discover them. 
The ‘‘ white-throat’’ is one of the prettiest 
species of sparrows (whose merit, as a class, is 
not that of good looks), apparently quite nu- 
merous in this region in winter, and can be seen 
any day in the Park. The head is very dis- 
tinctly striped with black, white, and a bit of 
yellow, while the throat is conspicuously white. 
The rest of the body is rather neutral in color. 
They are commonly found on the ground or 
in bushes, rarely flying to any great height in 
trees, and at this season always seem busily 
engaged in picking up a very precarious living. 
We are told they neither reap nor gather into 
barns. In fact, like all others of the feathered 
race, they live very much from hand to mouth. 
This trait, so reprehensible in the human fam- 
ily, gives the birds many a solid day’s work in 
the snows of winter, trying to satisfy the pangs 
of hunger, which are not always satisfied even 
then. After a fresh fall of snow cowering the 
usual sources of supply, I have found the 
‘¢ white-throats’’ busily exploring the bushes 
after sundown on acold January night. But 
23 
