146 WOOD NOTES WILD. 
Song-Sparrow. (Sec p. 23.) 
The late Mr. Harry Leverett Nelson, of Worcester, must 
have received much the same impression from the sing- 
ing of the song-sparrow. 
“At this season” [April], he writes, “this beautiful singer cannot be 
mistaken, uttering three or four pipes, or whistles, followed by canary-like 
trills and quavers, not very loud, but spirited and vivacious. There is, 
perhaps, no other of our birds whose song varies so much in detail and 
execution, though the quality and theme are always the same; and 
sometimes the same singer will give us five or six different variations in 
rapid succession without changing his perch.” — Nelson, H. L,: Bird-songs 
about Worcester, p. 10. 
See Ingersoll, E., in Friends Worth Knowing, chap. vii. pp. 171-181. 
See also Bicknell, E. P.: Song-sparrow, in his Study of the Singing of 
our Birds. (The Auk, vol. i., 1884, pp. 65, 70; vol. ii., 1885, pp. 147~149.) 
Mr. Torrey does not find the theme “always the same.” 
“The song-sparrow . . . will repeat one melody perhaps a dozen times, 
then change it for a second, and in turn leave that for a third, as if he 
were singing hymns of twelve or fifteen stanzas each, and set each hymn 
to its appropriate tune. It is something well worth listening to, common 
though it is,and may easily suggest a number of questions about the ori- 
gin and meaning of bird music.” — Torrey, B.: Birds in the Bush, p. 40. 
“The song of the song-sparrow is sweet, lively, and poured out with 
an energy which doubles its charm. It has several variations, which 
might excusably be attributed to two or three species; but the one most 
often heard is that which they give utterance to in the spring. This is 
an indescribable song, characteristic of itself. It usually begins with a 
thrice-repeated note followed by the sprightly part of the music, con- 
cluding with another note which, like the first, is often tripled.” — Minot, 
H. D.: Land-birds and Game-birds of N. E., p. 206. 
“ When he first arrives, while the weather is yet doubtful and unsettled, 
the strain appears contemplative, and often delivered in a peculiarly low 
and tender whisper, which, when harkened to for some time, will be found 
more than usually melodious, seeming as a sort of revery, or innate hope 
of improving seasons, which are recalled with a grateful, calm, and tender 
delight. At the approach of winter, this vocal thrill, sounding like an 
Orphean farewell to the scene and seasons, is still more exquisite, and 
