THE SONG SPARROW. 



{Melospiza fasciata.) 



In one of his most beautiful bits of 

 verse, 'The All-Kind Mother," James 

 Whitcomb Riley speaks of nature as 



Kindly to the weed as to 



Lily, lorn and teared with dew, 



and although this remarkable impar- 

 tiality between the lily we admire and 

 the weed we despise is quite difficult 

 for us to understand just now, the 

 poet assures us if we wait patiently 

 we shall 



See the lily get 

 Its divinest blossom, yet 

 Shall the wild weed bloom no less 

 With the song-bird's gleefulness. 



In reading this over one feels al- 

 most certain that it was the Song 

 Sparrow, the poet had in mind; for it 

 is the picture of this bird rather than 

 that of any other that is called up by 

 the verses, and the touch fits it so 

 exactly. 



And surely no bird is more worthy 

 the attention of the singer of sweetly 

 common things, than the Song Spar- 

 row is, for more than any of the birds 

 famous in song and story. More than 

 skylark or swallow, more than robin 

 or bluebird or cuckoo or thrush or 

 any other of the feathered host that 

 have figured in literature, this modest 

 singer is fit to stand as one of the 

 types of homelike thoughts and ways. 

 It is perhaps because of this very fit- 

 ness, of his quiet dress and demeanor 

 that he has been so wholly overlooked 

 by the men who make literature. Al- 

 though the common people have been 

 hearing him gladly ever since he was 

 known. 



In appearance, he is a commonplace 

 sort of bird, not catching the glance 

 at a distance as the tanager or gaudy 

 jay may do, but rather hiding beneath 



his sober feathers. Really he is rather 

 dressed for concealment than display, 

 and can so perfectly blend his stripes 

 with the leaves of grass and spaces 

 between that he is easily overlooked. 

 He is, however, a neat, trimly built 

 bird, considerably more slender than 

 the English sparrow, and with his slen- 

 derness accentuated with a long, rath- 

 er narrow tail. He can be distin- 

 guished from most of the other spar- 

 rows by the dark brown streaks or 

 blotches on his breast, and he looks at 

 a distance like a child who has spilt 

 some berry juice on his bib. 



Wherever there is an old brush-pile 

 surrounded by weeds, or a bit of tan- 

 gled thicket in the open, or a neglected 

 edge of ditch or margin of river or 

 lake, the Song Sparrow is pretty sure 

 to be found. If the place is well shel- 

 tered, and the winter not exceptionally 

 severe, he is likely to be found there 

 almost any day of the year, and he 

 greets the inquisitive intruder with a 

 few sharp, scolding notes. It is in 

 such places, especially along the edges 

 of ditches, that the nest is built, a neat, 

 closely built symmetrical structure, 

 usually placed on the ground and 

 overarched with the long brown blades 

 of last-year's grass. If one passes too 

 close to the nest, a streak of bird from 

 where it is hidden, to the grass a little 

 distance away, directs him where to 

 look. Here, if the home has been 

 completely furnished at the time of 

 discovery, will be found five small 

 finely speckled eggs, the spots brown 

 on a pinkish ground. 



As to the bird's song, there is con- 

 siderable variation in the arrangement 

 of the parts. It consists of several 

 calls and a series of clear melodious 



