THE PERcHING Birps. 103 
the others, but have such good opinion of their own 
efforts that from April until October they enliven 
these waste places with 
“a few trilling, rather monotonous minor notes, resembling, in some 
measure, the song of the Field-sparrow. . . . These notes are made 
with considerable effort, and sometimes with a spreading of the tail. 
In the spring, on their first arrival, this song is delivered with much 
spirit, and echoes through the marshes like the trill of the Canary.” 
Nuttall, from whom I have quoted, says these birds 
“thread their devious way with the same alacrity as the Rail, 
with whom they are indeed often associated in neighborhood. In 
consequence of this perpetual brushing through sedge and bushes, 
their feathers are frequently so worn that their tails appear almost 
like those of rats.” 
I have never noticed this, but the habit of wagging 
or dipping the tail, and, indeed, of teetering the whole 
body, as do the oven-birds, is very noticeable. Near 
a shad-fishery, about which I love to loaf in early 
spring, these birds are very abundant, and during the 
hauls of the seine, while waiting for the net to be 
drawn inshore, I have amused myself by the hour 
watching them hopping and running over the smooth 
beach, and often perching on a small projecting peb- 
ble. It was here that I learned of the bird’s fondness 
for fish, and have often seen two or three tugging at 
a dead herring, trying to get from beneath the scales 
a good bite of the flesh. Fresh fish had, I judged, 
no attraction for them, but such as had lain in the 
sun for several days and were literally dry as a chip. 
Wilson states,— 
“They form their nest in the ground, sometimes in a tussock of 
rank grass surrounded by water, and lay four eggs of a dirty white, 
