148 IN BERKSHIRE FIELDS 



No doubt it would be proper to classify with the 

 pasture birds the birds of the roadside, but the old 

 country roadsides of America were (and often still 

 are) such distinctive spots, such long, natural wild 

 gardens and careless hedgerows, that one likes to 

 associate certain birds with them — such as the 

 indigo-bird, the gay goldfinch, the. scarlet tanager, 

 the song-sparrow — how often he perches on the 

 topmost twig of a little tree just over the wall as 

 you tramp the roads in spring, and pours out his 

 melodious song! — and the brown thrasher. The 

 song-sparrow, like so many other sparrows, builds 

 a grassy nest on the ground, and because of his tame- 

 ness he often places it beside a back road, just under 

 the overhang of the bank, thus gaining a perfect 

 weather protection and screening his nest from the 

 view, also, of marauding crows or hawks overhead. 



The goldfinches, which are equally companionable 

 birds, are great seed-eaters. They come with their 

 peculiar, dipping flight in small flocks to my long 

 cosmos bed, and sway on the bending stalks while 

 they peck at the seed-pods I have been too careless or 

 too busy to snip off. Their bright yellow bodies 

 on the tall stems, amid the great pink and white 

 blossoms, make a delightfully Japanese picture. 

 Their choice of the roadsides for nesting purposes, 

 of course, is probably due to the large variety of 

 seeds available near at hand, and to the fact that 

 they use thistledown to line their little cup-shaped 

 nests with, in the crotch of a bush or small tree. 

 They seem to wait until the thistles have burst, in 

 fact, before breeding. Near my home is a tangle of 

 wild sunflowers and thistles, made by the intersec- 



