SONG SPARROW. 85 



They are social birds, and almost as much given to haimting 

 the door-yard as are their kindred, the chipping sparrows. They 

 are never found far from the houses when settlements are near, 

 though I have heard their song while canoeing on wilderness waters ; 

 and how delightful it was to ears that had heard no song for many 

 days ! 



As a rule, the nest of this sparrow is hidden amid a tuft of gniss or 

 under a low bush in a field or open pasture. It is of the usual 

 ground nest pattern — a loose arrangement of grass, twigs, and weed- 

 stems, without any distinctive features. The hen lays a variable 

 number of eggs, ranging from three to neven, though most fre- 

 quently four or five complete the set. Their ground color is dull 

 white, tinged with green, blue, or pink, and thickly marked with 

 several shades of brown. Occasionally eggs are found without any 

 markings. 



The song sparrows are am.ong the earliest of our spring migrants, 

 usually arriving in New Brunswick in large flocks, and generally 

 accompanied by similar flocks of robins and j uncos. They appear 

 there about the tenth of April, sometimes as early as the seventh, 

 and occasionally delaying until the fifteenth, but more often arriving 

 during the eighth, the ninth, tenth or eleventh. On several occa- 

 sions I have searched through the suburbs of St. John for birds on 

 the tenth of April and found not one in many miles of tramping, 

 and nex fc morning have heard at dawn a great chorus of cheery 

 voices, proclaiming the arrival of robins, juncos, and song sparrows. 



I mention this here because I have noticed that these birds do 

 not arrive in the vicinity of Boston in the same manner — not in 

 such large bodies. Stragglers and small squads give due notice 

 of the approach there of the main body, which comes along in 

 detached parts. 



Mr. Philip Cox had the good fortune to witness the arrival of one 

 of these vast flocks — "bird wave," he appropriately named it — which 

 arrived at Newcastle, on the Mirimichi, in April, 1885. He wrote 

 of it thus : — "I saw hundreds of robins, song sparrows and juncos 

 mingled together in an unbroken column and passing noiselessly on. 

 Some of the birds were only a few feet above the tops of the trees, 

 while others were higher up, the column extending so far skyward 

 that the topmost line could with difficulty be outlined amid the 



