A SPRING RELISH. 185 



ture it is the middle of May, and, judging from vege- 

 tation alone, one would expect to find many of the 

 later birds, as the oriole, the wood-thrush, the king- 

 bird, the cat-bird, the tanager, the indigo-bird, the 

 vireos, and many of the warblers, but they have not 

 arrived. The May birds, it seems, will not come in 

 April, no matter how the season favors." 



Some birds passing north in the spring are provok- 

 ingly silent. Every April I see the hermit-thrush 

 hopping about the woods, and in case of a sudden 

 snow-storm seeking shelter about the out-buildings; 

 but I never hear even a fragment of his wild, silvery 

 strain. The white-crowned sparrow also passes in 

 silence. I see the bird for a few days about the same 

 date each year, but he will not reveal to me his song. 

 On the other hand, his congener, the white-throated 

 sparrow, is decidedly musical in passing, both spring 

 and fall. His sweet, wavering whistle is at times quite 

 as full and perfect as when heard in June or July in 

 the Canadian woods. The latter bird is much more 

 numerous than the white-crowned, and its stay with 

 us more protracted, which may in a measure account 

 for the greater frequency of its song. The fox-spar- 

 row, who passes earlier (sometimes in March), is also 

 chary of the music with which he is so richly en- 

 dowed. It is not every season that I hear him, though 

 my ear is on the alert for his strong, finely-modu- 

 lated whistle. 



Nearly all the warblers sing in passing. I hear 

 them in the orchards, in the groves, in the woods, as 



