78 



THE SLATE-COLORED JUNCO. 









Photo by t!u Author. 



WHERE JUNCO SLEEPS. 



well, they really wer'n't scared quite out of their wits, and they had plenty of 

 time to get back into bed after we were gone. Besides, variety is the spice of life 

 — e^'en (if a Snowbird's. But the boys ! Say, Jones, how old are you, anyway ? 



When th.e first warm days of March bring up the Bluebirds and the 

 Robins, the Juncoes get the spring fever. But they do not rush off to till 

 premature gra\'es in the still snowy north. The companv musters instead 

 in the tree-tops on the quiet side of the woods, and indulges in a grand eistedd- 

 ffjd. I am sure that the birds are a httle Welch and that this term is strictly 

 correct. All sing at once a sweet little tinkling trill, not verv pretentious, 

 but tender and winsome. Litersjjersed with this is a \'ariet\- of sipping and 

 suckling notes whose uses are hard to discern. Now and then also a kissing 

 note, (if repulsion instead of attraction, is heard, such as is emploved during 

 the breeding season to frighten enemies. During the progress of the concert 

 some dashing \oung fellow, unable fully to express his emotion in song, runs 

 amuck and goes charging abort through the woodsy mazes in a fine frenzy, 

 without, hoA\'e\-er, quite s]")illing his brains. Others catch the infection, and 

 T ]ia\e seen a score at once in a mad whirl of this harmless excitement. 



Timcoes linger surprisingl}' late sometimes, ^-ell on into April or even 



