THE SLATE-COLORED JUNCO. 



us. Photo by the Author. 



WHERE JUNCO SLEEPS. 



well, they really wer'n't scared quite out of their wits, and they had plenty of 

 time to get hack into hed after we were gone. Besides, variety is the spice of life 

 even of a Snowbird's. But the boys ! Say, Jones, how old are you, anyway? 



\Yhen the first warm days of March bring up the Bluebirds and the 

 Robins, the Juncoes get the spring fever. But they do not rush off to till 

 premature graves in the still snowy north. The company musters instead 

 in the tree-tops on the quiet side of the woods, and indulges in a grand eistedd- 

 fod. I am sure that the birds are a little Welch and that this term is strictly 

 correct. All sing at once a sweet little tinkling trill, not very pretentious, 

 but tender and winsome. Interspersed with this is a variety of sipping and 

 suckling notes whose uses are hard to discern. Now and then also a kissing 

 note, of repulsion instead of attraction, is heard, such as is employed during 

 the breeding season to frighten enemies. During the progress of the concert 

 some dashing young fellow, unable fully to express his emotion in song, runs 

 amuck and goes charging about through the woodsy mazes in a fine frenzy, 

 without, however, quite spilling his brains. Others catch the infection, and 

 I have seen a score at once in a mad whirl of this harmless excitement. 



Juncoes linger surprisingly late sometimes, well on into April or even 



