132 Birds Every Child BhouCd Know 
beak? The latter lady has not a rose-coloured 
feather on her. She is a streaked, brown bird, 
resembling an overgrown sparrow, with a 
thick, exaggerated finch bill and a conspicuous, 
white eyebrow. When her husband wears his 
winter clothes in the tropics, his feathers are 
said to be similar to hers, so that even his name, 
then, does not fit. But when he returns to the 
United States in May he is, in very truth, a rose- 
breasted grosbeak. His back is as black as a 
chewink’s; underneath he is grayish white, 
and a patch of lovely, brilliant, rose colour on 
his breast, with wing linings of the same shade, 
make him a splendidly handsome fellow. Per- 
haps before you get a glimpse of the feathers 
that are his best means of introduction, you 
may hear a thin eek call -note from some tree-top, 
or better still, listen to the sweet, pure, mellow, 
joyously warbled song, now loud and clear, now 
softly tender, that puts him in the first rank of 
our songsters. 
Few birds so conspicuously dressed risk the 
safety of their nests either by singing or by being 
seen near it, but this gentle cavalier not only 
carries food to his brooding mate but actually 
takes his turn at sitting upon the pale-greenish, 
blue-speckled eggs. As a lover, husband, and 
father he is irreproachable. 
A friend who reared four orphan grosbeaks 
says that they left the nest when about eleven 
