286 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIRDS 



by, sounding far away, — a fainter song sparrow strain, 

 somewhat. I see its open mouth and quivering throat, 

 yet can hardly believe the seemingly distant strain pro- 

 ceeds from it, yaw yaw, twee twee, twitter twitter, te twee 

 twe tw tw tw, and so ends with a short and rapid trill. 



April 29, 1855. This morning it snows, but the 

 ground is not yet whitened. This will probably take 

 the cold out of the air. Many chip-birds are feeding 

 in the yard, and one bay-wing. The latter incessantly 

 scratches like a hen, all the while looking about for 

 foes. The bay on its wings is not obvious except when 

 it opens them. The white circle about the eye is visible 

 afar. Now it makes a business of pluming itself, doubling 

 prettily upon itself, now touching the root of its tail, 

 now thrusting its head under its wing, now between its 

 wing and back above, and now between its legs and its 

 belly; and now it drops flat on its breast and belly 

 and spreads and shakes its wings, now stands up and 

 repeatedly shakes its wings. It is either cleaning itself 

 of dirt acquired in scratching and feeding, — for its feet 

 are black with mud, — or it is oiling its feathers thus. It 

 is rather better concealed by its color than the chip- 

 bird with its chestnut crown and light breast. The 

 chip-bird scratches but slightly and rarely; it finds 

 what it wants on the surface, keeps its head down more 

 steadily, not looking about. I see the bay-wing eat 

 some worms. 



April 13, 1856. I hear a bay-wing on the railroad 

 fence sing — the rhythm — somewhat like, char char 

 (or here here), che che, chip chip chip (fast), chitter 

 chitter chitter chit (very fast and jingling), tchea tchea 



