314 
The Towhee 
the abodes of man during the period when it has no pressing domestic i 
duties and responsibilities. When nesting-time arrives, therefore, it is { 
best to seek for it along hedge-rows, or beside old fences half concealed ] 
by shrubbery, from the depths of which it will announce its presence by 
its sharp, clear cry chewink. Abandoned fields, where briers and bushes !■ 
have sprung up, are also favorite abiding places for the Towhee. i 
One summer day, as a member of a Harvard botany class, I journeyed 
some miles out of Cambridge, and afoot began a rather laborious climb | 
up the somewhat steeply sloping side of Blue Hill. As we advanced, the ' 
trees decreased steadily in size until, perhaps three-fourths of the way ; 
to the top, they became so scraggy that in many places 
Its Song they had much the aspect of bushes. This change in 
the condition of the vegetation must have been due 
largely to the poor quality of the soil, as the altitude was not great. We 1 
studied many plantsHhat day, many of which I have forgotten, but I do j 
remember with great distinctness the songs of Towhees, which with || 
marvelous clearness rang from the topmost bough of many a stunted f 
tree. 
This is the kind of situation it invariably occupies when singing. 
The Nightingale may sing from the depths of its myrtle-bush, the Veery ! 
from the bough of its favorite oak, and the Gnatcatcher from its nest, 
but, like the Winter Wren and the Nonpareil, the Towhee must occupy 
the highest twig of its chosen sapling or bush, before it flings to the 
summer winds the melody of its notes. Its song is not a remarkable 
performance when compared with the singing of many birds, but it is 
vigorous and appealing. The song of the Towhee is the passionate cry 
of a love-sick bird, who will not take ‘‘no” for an answer. Ernest 
Thompson Seton has told us what it says. He asserts that the bird 
plainly shouts, chuck-burr, pill-a-will-a-will-a. 
The Towhee’s nest is often situated on the ground, though sometimes 
we may find it in shrubs or low bushes. Even when built in a bush it is 
always near the earth ; in fact I have never found one 
The Nest at more than a foot of elevation. It is usually made 
of a collection of dead leaves, strips of grape-vine or 
other bark, and occasionally a few twigs. The lining appears always to 
be made of fine, dead grasses. It is not covered over like the nest of 
the Bob-white, Meadowlark, Oven-bird, and some other ground-nesting 
species, and is protected from the rays of the sun and the eyes of the 
curious only by the twigs and leaves of the bush in which it is hidden. 
Although fairly ample in size, it is in reality rather a frailly built cradle, 
and usually goes to pieces during the rains of autumn or in the winter 
storms. 
As may be noticed from the accompanying colored illustration, the 
female is less highly colored than her mate. This is the case with a 
great many kinds of birds, and it would appear that when kind Nature 
made them, she had in mind the fact that the mother-bird would do 
most of the brooding; and that while on the nest her somewhat duller 
