THE PERCHING BIRDS. 99 



of mine, not because there is so much of him as so 

 much of them. It is a case where one is not as good 

 as a hundred, but just the opposite, and a hundred, 

 fortunately, are easier found than one. Nuttall speaks 

 of two or three singing together. I have heard a 

 full chorus, and it is then music that makes you for- 

 get the " deadness" of the season. 



Akin to this bird is the true " Chippy," the little 

 chestnut-crowned fellow that becomes so delightfully 

 tame. If it were not for the infernal cats that people 

 persist in keeping about, I believe the chippies would 

 venture in through open windows and peck crumbs 

 from the table. This bird is the type of gentleness, 

 and I have several times obtained its perfect confi- 

 dence. To a certain extent they are migratoiy, 

 coming early in spring and retiring when winter 

 fairly sets in ; but a few remain, finding some cosey 

 nook that shelters them in severe weather; but if 

 there is food sufficient, mere cold of itself does not 

 seem to incommode them. 



Strangely enough, many people confound the Field- 

 sparrow with the Chippy. They are only alike in 

 being equally delightful. The chippy's song, so 

 simple yet so sweet, a mere tst-tst-tst-tst-tsee, the last 

 " syllable" being long-drawn, " almost like the jin- 

 gling of farthings," as Nuttall puts it, is very differ- 

 ent in tone, volume, and animation from the clear, 

 well-rounded te-de-de-de-de-d-d-d that rings from 

 early morning until after sunset in our pastures. I 

 say " pastures" rather than " fields," for the bird has 

 always seemed to me to prefer the grass and a 

 goodly sprinkling of weeds to cultivated acres. 



