70 NATURE NEAR LONDON. 



it only needed a little dexterity in peering to get a 

 view. The sedge-bird perches aside, on a sloping 

 willow rod, and, slightly raising his head, chatters, 

 turning his bill from side to side. He is a very tiny 

 bird, and his little eye looks out from under a 

 yellowish streak. His song at first sounds nothing 

 but chatter. 



After listening a while the ear finds a scale in it — 

 an arrangement and composition — so that, though still 

 a chatter, it is a tasteful one. At intervals he inter- 

 sperses a chirp, exactly the same as that of the 

 sparrow, a chirp with a tang in it. Strike a piece of 

 metal, and besides the noise of the blow, there is 

 a second note, or tang. The sparrow's chirp has such 

 a note sometimes, and the sedge-bird brings it in — 

 tang, tang, tang. This sound has given him his 

 country name of brook-sparrow, and it rather spoils 

 his song. Often the moment he has concluded he 

 starts for another willow stole, and as he flies begins 

 to chatter when half way across, and finishes on a 

 fresh branch. 



But long before this another bird has commenced 

 to sing in a bush adjacent ; a third takes it up in the 

 thorn hedge ; a fourth in the bushes across the pond ; 

 and from farther down the stream comes a faint and 

 distant chatter. Ceaselessly the competing gossip 

 goes on the entire day and most of the night ; indeed 

 sometimes all night through. On a warm spring 

 morning, when the sunshine pours upon the willows, 

 and even the white dust of the road is brighter, 

 bringing out the shadows in clear definition, their 

 lively notes and quick motions make a pleasant com- 



