62 DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



may appear, the music of these birds will chase the gloom 

 away. 



Most unfortunately it is only for a short time that we 

 have these princely sparrows when at their best, for day 

 after day will often pass when they are either silent or 

 only most monotonously chirp. So it was when I last saw 

 them; every bird seemed given to meditation, and flew 

 with reluctance when I drew too near ; but to-day, their 

 clear, flute-like voices drowned all other songs. Every 

 note of this bird is a marvel of purity, and their variety 

 greater than the repertoire of any other of their tribe ; ex- 

 celling, in this respect, even the song-sparrow. Nor is 

 the song of every individual the same. They so far differ 

 that when several birds are singing at one time it gives 

 the impression of a concert by various songsters, rather 

 than the united efforts of a number of the same species. 



As April approaches, the songs of these birds are more 

 continued, especially if it is clear and warm at noon. In- 

 deed, April sunshine is required to ripen the music of 

 their dainty throats. Then it is well worth one's while to 

 linger about the brier-hidden angles of some old worm 

 fence, for then, at such time, the melody is next in merit 

 to the early June-day efforts of the thrush and grosbeak. 



Foxy finches advocate squatter sovereignty and are 

 impatient of intrusion, where they have power to resist. 

 The blundering sparrows of humbler grade are given 

 prompt notice to quit, and usually take a gentle hint with- 

 out show of protest. I have always wished that these pas- 

 serine nobles would become permanent settlers, for bird- 

 f ul as are our pleasant places, there would be room for 

 them. As it is, their sojourn suggests but a jolly hunter's 

 camp, ringing the day long with so much gayety that the 

 echo of the songs lingers about the spot long after they 

 have gone. 



Much might be written of the long list of singing 



