22 BIRD-LAND ECHOES. 



but never can you find one syllable that is not a note 

 of gladness, a hymn of thanksgiving. Wherever the 

 song-sparrow may wander, whenever it is moved to 

 sing, it has but one grand theme, the grandest, 

 whether of men or birds, " peace on earth." 



Strangers, however brilliant, should never over- 

 shadow your life-long friends. Usually they do, it 

 is sad to think, but not always ; and never a new- 

 comer, whether but a transient guest or a summer- 

 long visitor among the moving mass of north-bound 

 migrating birds, ever thrust the song-sparrow into the 

 shade. I hold well in mind that as the year rolls on 

 those marked celebrities of the melodious host will 

 command greater attention, and we will stand in 

 wide-eyed wonder as their marvellous songs rouse 

 the sleepy echoes in old woods or ring out in mad- 

 cap merriment over sunny fields ; but never will those 

 earlier, anticipatory notes of the steadfast song- 

 sparrow be forgotten. They told of what was coming 

 when it was yet frosty March or dull, damp, dreary 

 April. Our faith was roused (and it needs continual 

 prodding), and that is something of greater worth 

 than anything of which an accomplished task can 

 ever boast The song-sparrow in the role of a 

 prophet fills a larger space than the expounder of 

 what is transpiring. The present is ever the one 

 thought of the thrush or the rose-breast, but the 

 unpretending sparrow has had a faith-inspiring 

 glimpse of the future and sings of it in fullest con- 

 fidence ; and when, some bright May morning, the 

 orchard is in all its glory there is not one bird of 



