PLAINS AND FOOTHILLS 193 



his admiration of this bird with the cerulean plumes. 

 Hark to his rhapsody : 



* Winged lute that we call a bluebird, you blend in a silver strain 

 The sound of the laughing waters, the patter of spring's sweet rain, 

 The voice of the winds, the sunshine, and fragrance of blossoming 



things ; 

 Ah ! you are an April poem that God has dowered with wings." 



On our return to the plains from a two weeks 1 trip to 

 Georgetown and Gray's Peak, we spent several days 

 at Arvada, a village about halfway between Denver 

 and Golden. The place was rife with birds, all of 

 which are described in other chapters of this volume. 1 

 Mention need be made here only of the song-sparrows, 

 which were seen in a bushy place through which a 

 purling stream wound its way. Of course, they were 

 Melospiza fasciata montana, but their clear, bell-like 

 trills were precise copies of those of the merry lowland 

 minstrels of the East. Special attention is called to 

 the fact that, in my first visit to Colorado, the only 

 place in which mountain song-sparrows were met with 

 was Buena Vista, quite a distance up among the moun- 

 tains, while in the visit now being described they were 

 not found anywhere in the mountains, save in the vale 



1 I find I have overlooked the western Maryland yellow-throat, 

 which was seen here ; also near Colorado Springs, and in several 

 other bushy spots, only on the plains. It seldom ascends into the 

 mountains, never far. Its song and habits are similar to those of 

 its eastern congener. 



13 



