The Hit tilings. 149 



vivacity ; he is a dull bird, and seems to know it. 

 Even his voice is half-hearted ; it reminds me 

 often of an old man in our village who used to 

 tell us that he had "a wheezing in his pipes." 

 Near him sits a Yellow Bunting (Yellowhammcr), 

 a beautiful bird when in full adult plumage of 

 yellow head, orange-brown back, white outer tail- 

 feathers, and pink legs; yet even this valued old 

 friend is apt to be untidy in the sit of his feathers, 

 to perch in a melancholy brown study with de- 

 flected tail, and to utter the same old song all 

 the spring and summer through. This song, 

 however (if indeed it can be called one), is a 

 much better one than that of the Corn Bunting, 

 and is occasionally even a little varied. 1 



Just below, on an alder branch or withy-sapling, 

 sits a fine cock Reecl Bunting, whose jet-black 

 head and white neck make him a conspicuous 

 object in spite of the sparrow-like brown of his 

 back and wings. Except in plumage, he is 

 exactly like his relations. He will sit there, as 

 long as you like to stay, and shuffling his feathers, 

 give out his odd tentative and half-hearted song. 

 1 See Note B at the end of the volume. 



