EACH AFTER ITS KIND 



song standing out distinctly as a new combination 

 and sequence of sparrow notes. And a still greater 

 wonder is that no two song sparrows have the same 

 repertoire. Each bird has his own individual songs, 

 an endless and bewildering variety inside a general 

 resemblance. The song sparrow you hear in Maine 

 or Canada differs widely from the one you hear in 

 the Hudson River Valley or on the Potomac. Even 

 in the same neighborhood I have never yet heard 

 two sparrows whose songs were exactly alike, 

 whereas two robins or meadowlarks or bluebirds 

 or wood thrushes or vesper sparrows or goldfinches 

 or indigo-birds differ from one another in their songs 

 as little as they do in their forms and manners, and 

 from one end of the country to the other there is 

 little or no variation. 



During ten days by the sea one July I was greatly 

 entertained by a song sparrow which had a favorite 

 perch on the top of a small red cedar that stood in 

 front of the cottage where I was staying. Four fifths 

 of the day at least it was perched upon this little 

 cedar platform, going through its repertoire of song, 

 over and over. Getting its living seemed entirely a 

 secondary matter; the primary matter was the song. 

 I estimated that it sang over two thousand times 

 each day that I heard it. It had probably been sing- 

 ing at the same rate since May or earlier, and would 

 probably keep it up till August or later. The latter 

 part of July and the whole of August of the same 

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