A SPRING RELISH 



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 Cana- 

 dian 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 sparrow, 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-modulated whistle. 



Nearly all the warblers sing in passing. 

 I hear them in the orchards, in the groves, 

 in the woods, as they pause to feed in 

 their northward journey, their brief, lisp- 

 ing, shuffling, insect-like notes requiring to 

 be searched for by the ear, as their forms 

 by the eye. But the ear is not tasked to 

 identify the songs of the kinglets, as they 

 tarry briefly with us in spring. In fact, 

 there is generally a week in April or early 

 May, — 



•* On such a time as goes before the leaf, 

 When all the woods stand in a mist of green 

 And nothing perfect," — 



47 



