104 THE Birps Asout Us. 
spotted with rufous. So late as the fifteenth of August I have seen 
them feeding their young that were scarcely able to fly.” 
So far, so good; but he did not follow the bird up 
very closely, or he would have seen how very abun- 
dant they are in localities that suit them,—ze., in the 
Middle States——and that a considerable proportion 
do not migrate at all. When, as sometimes happens, 
we have no winter at all, these birds make their fa- 
vorite haunts as lively in January as ever they do in 
June. 
Another strictly migratory sparrow, and a very 
prince among the tribe, is the large, beautiful Foxie 
Finch. They come to the Middle States in October 
and generally pass on southward, but occasionally 
some remain. I know that in mild winters this is 
true. At such times the little flocks are skulkers, 
and have to be started up by throwing a stick into 
the thicket, when they rise with quite a whirring of 
the wings and twitter musically. Their single cheep 
has a bell-like ring that fits well with the bright, crisp 
air of a frosty October morning, and when a dozen 
sound this note together the effect is very pleasing. 
Their favorite haunts in autumn, and, indeed, also in 
spring, are the old weed-tangled worm-fences, with 
here and there a tree towering above it. The trees 
do not figure in their history in October, but in 
March, when they are northward bound for their far 
Canadian homes, they are in an anticipatory frame 
of mind, and often going well up towards the tops 
of the trees, they sing an exultant song that is posi- 
tively charming. William Brewster admirably de- 
scribes it as a 
