THE BIRDS OF MIDSUMMER. 



To many bird students the heated 

 period from the Fourth of July to the 

 end of August is the least attractive part 

 of the year. Most of our best singers of 

 early spring and summer have finished 

 their parental task for the present year 

 and are now enjoying the cool shades 

 where they doff the nuptial suit and put 

 on one of more sombre hues, more fit for 

 the long journey to the southland soon 

 to come. Even the bobolink has lost the 

 key to his tinkling music box and has ret- 

 rograded to an alarming degree ; his 

 whole mind seems to be taken up with 

 the treasures of the grain fields. One 

 little fragment remains to us of_ all his 

 joyful music, one metallic "chink," of it- 

 self quite pretty, but most unsatisfactory 

 when we recollect the great stores of 

 early June of which this note is but a 

 crumb. 



In spite of the passing of the spring 

 music, this heated term is full of interest 

 and profit to the man or woman who 

 will defy the sun long enough to take a 

 daily stroll in the meadows and along 

 the borders of the woods. Two of the 

 flycatcher family, the kingbird and the 

 wood pewee, abound. What farmer's 

 boy is not familiar with Tyrannus ty- 

 rannus? Who has not watched him 

 drive away a hawk or crow that has in- 

 vaded his domain? As his name indi- 

 cates, he is a double-dyed tyrant, for he 

 often attacks the inoffensive red-headed 

 woodpecker and the harmless robin. 

 Then there's the wood pewee with its 

 monotonous "Pewee, Pewee." How the 

 simple note suggests and emphasizes the 

 browning leaves, the rasping locusts, the 

 half-deserted forests, and pervading and 

 brooding over all the shimmering, pal- 

 pitating heat of midsummer. 



Besides these dull-colored, unmusical 

 fly-catchers, there are a number of more 

 gifted birds, most of them of the Finch 

 or Sparrow family. One of the leaders 

 of this group, both on account of his 

 numbers and ringing music, is our old 

 friend of the spring, Melospiza fasciata, 

 the scientists call him, but his common 

 English name, song sparrow, .suits him 



better. Four others of his family, not 

 quite so conspicuous, it is true, but each 

 a most interesting personality in his way, 

 may be found in the same fence corners 

 and low bushes which afford the song 

 sparrow his accommodations, the vesper, 

 field, grasshopper, and chipping spar- 

 rows. 



The song sparrow with his streaked 

 spotted breast, is such a common sight 

 that he needs no description here, but a 

 word about the characteristic features of 

 the others will not come amiss. One dis- 

 tinguishing feature well learned and kept 

 in mind when observing and identifying 

 in the field is worth more than a wheel- 

 barrow load of indistinct impressions. 

 Let me try to give you one for each of 

 these five sparrows. 



The last-named bird you can readily 

 recognize by the coloring of the breast, 

 from one to* three spots formed by the 

 running together of stripes. The ves- 

 per's badge is his white outer tail-feath- 

 ers, which he loves to show as he lights. 

 The grasshopper sparrow you will 

 know by his weak, insect-like song, very 

 much like that of the long-legged crea- 

 ture whose name he bears. The field 

 and chipping sparrows, because almost 

 identical in shape and size, are often con- 

 fused, but this need not be if the bill can 

 be seen, the color of which in the former 

 is red, in the latter black. 



An observer of more than ordinary 

 diligence ought to find and identify at 

 least four out of the five in one locality. 

 In just such low fields as the vesper 

 likes, especially where low crops like mel- 

 ons or cabbage are grown, you will most 

 likely see a bird somewhat larger and 

 more aristocratic looking than the ves- 

 per, clad in the usual dull sparrow tints, 

 but quite unlike him in gait and voice. 

 This bird is one of the two real larks na- 

 tive to eastern North America, its proper 

 name being the prairie horned lark. 

 In spring you will often see these birds 

 alone or in pairs, but now they fly in 

 small flocks of six or eight, probably the 

 parents and their young, now all alike. 

 In some parts of Illinois and Missouri 



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