1893, May 9
Cambridge, Mass.

       Clear, the early morning calm; fresh S.E to S. wind in P.M.
the warmest and most springlike day this far this season.

       It was perfectly calm and almost oppressively warm when
a little after 8 o'clock this morning I stepped out into the
garden. For the first half hour i heard only a Yellow Warbler, 
a Chippy & a Robin singing. But a little before 9 A.M. I 
added three birds to my list, an Oriole fluting in the horse
chestnut at the corner of Sparks St, a Redstart singing in 
Mr. Hubbard's grounds, and a Lincoln's Finch in the garden.

      After listening to the Oriole & Redstart for a few minutes 
I passed through the house and opened the back door when 
an unfamiliar song came at once to my ears. It was uttered
four or five times in succession, at short intervals, very near
me, which I stood listening completely puzzled. The bird was
evidently in the cluster of [?lilacs] scarce ten yards away but although
these bushes were practically leafless i could see nothing in them.
I moved cautiously around them & at length discovered a
Lincoln's Sparrow sitting motionless, bolt upright, in the top of the
tallest lilac. He saw me, also, & began to flit [delete][?rusthly][delete] slyly from
twig to twig away from me keeping his crest erected. He did
not get far before a workman,stumping noisily along the 
walk on the further side of the thicket, alarmed him seriously
& he flew across the lawn to Mr. Spelman's shrubbery. I could 
find no other bird in or near the lilacs & there can be no doubt
that his was my mysterious singer whose full song I now
know for the first time. It began with a succession of five or
six low, [?wiry], wispy, lisping notes much like those of the pueludi [?] of
the song of Regulus [?calundula] and ended with a rich, liquid
warble resembling the gushing song of the House Wren but still mon [?]

[margin] Song of Lincoln's Finch[margin]
 
