THE 



BOTANIST. 



Vol. I. 



BINGHAMTON, N. Y., DECEMBER i, 1891. 



No. XII. 



THE TREE SPARROW. 



BY WILLARD N. CLUTE, BINGHAMTON, N. Y. 



When winter settles down in earnest 

 over our fields and woods, the last of 

 our half-hardy hirds leave for the south. 

 Our woods are left well-nigh deserted ; 

 in rough weather when the wind roars 

 through the tree-tops, one may spend 

 hours in a vain search for birds. On 

 such days the nuthatches and chick- 

 adees are doubtless hidden away in some 

 snug retreat, and even the crow cares 

 . little about leaving his perch in the 

 pines. 



Afield one fares somewhat better. 

 There is a chance that he may see a 

 flock of snow-buntings, or come upon a 

 party of shore larks feeding in a patch 

 of weeds. There, too, he is sure to find 

 the tree sparrow, a bird, that, although 

 seldom seen in winter, is, nevertheless, 

 quite common. 



The tree sparrow can hardly be called 

 a bird of the fields— though he frequents 

 the fence-rows in spring— nor yet a bird 

 of the woods, but might well be raai-ked 

 as an inhabitant of those interjacent 

 areas, the thickets and swamps. He is 

 especially partial to the alders and wil- 

 lows along water-courses, and may be 

 found in these places when absent from 

 all others. 



In autumn, the birds reach us late in 

 ( )(ttober and soon become common in 

 their chosen haunts. Being sociably 

 inclined, they congregate in fiocks of 

 from twenty to fifty and seem to enjoy 

 their existence in spite of cold and snow. 



Evidently they have no trouble in find- 

 ing plentj^ to eat. Whether i-unning 

 about over the snow, or flitting from 

 bush to bush, they keep up a soft con- 

 versational warble which sounds like a 

 repetition of wheedle with numerous 

 iveets and ivits thrown in. 



About the middle of March their 

 numbers are suddenly increased, from 

 which it seems probable that many 

 spend the winter farther south. The 

 first bright days of early spring .makes 

 them quite loquacious and the. air fairly 

 quivers with their notes. A little later 

 they frequently break into a song which 

 may be very nearly represented by 

 wee-che, wee-che, chip, chip, chip,che-wce. 

 It is more of a warble than most spar- 

 rows are capable of, and sounds some- 

 what like the song of the summer yel- 

 low-bird. Before the birds leave for 

 their summer in Labrador and the far 

 north, they appear to be mating ; the 

 males chase the females about with a 

 great deal of musical chatter and the 

 swamps resound with their merriment. 



The tree-sparrow is closely related to 

 the well-known chipping sparrow and 

 so much resembles him, that few, save 

 the professional ornithologist could 

 distinguish the one from the other. 

 Perhaps the birds are aware of this and 

 wish to preserve their identity, for 

 when the tree sparrow arrives from the 

 north, the chipping sparrow retreats 

 southward and does not return until the 

 other has departed. The tree sparrow 

 differs from the chipping sparrow in 

 having a small round blotch of brownish 

 on the upper part of his ash gray breast 



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