THE PERCHING BirDs. 105 
“fervent, sensuous, and withal perfectly-rounded carol. . . . It ex- 
presses careless joy and exultant masculine vigor rather than the finer 
shades of sentiment.” 
Foxie Finch. 
On the Pacific coast, in the mountains of Cali- 
fornia, and in the Rocky Mountains there are foxie 
sparrows that are “varieties” of our Eastern form, 
much like him in a general way, but with no charac- 
teristic that is an advance over the bird that has ever 
been a delight to all who are fortunate enough to 
know him. 
When, forty years ago, it was my good fortune to 
be allowed to go with “the boy” after the cows, 
about sunset, as I passed along a narrow path that 
extended for several rods through a briery tangle, I 
never failed to see a strange black, white, and brown 
bird that seemed to follow us and resent our intru- 
sion by the vehement utterance of what sounded 
like ve-tréat, re-tréat. I was told then that the bird 
was the Swamp-robin, and later fell to calling it 
“Chewink.” As with many another bird that gets 
its familiar name from the fancied resemblance of its 
