The Little Green is a day fisherman, and I do not hear his 
frog-like “kuh-kuk” at night. 
Out in the bay I have noted Loons for several summers. 
Last year one of them sat on the sand until the children 
tried to feed him by poking bread into his mouth, where¬ 
upon he sledded his way down the beach, swam out a little, 
laughed and dived. I had thought these Loons non-breed¬ 
ing birds, but offshore in late July this year I sailed quite 
close to a grown bird and two young, half-grown flappers 
that must have been born nearby. 
Early in the year the morning chorus of song here is quite 
deafening. Most numerously vocal are the Song Sparrows. 
One of these always sounds the first note, to be followed 
within a half minute by the Robins in jubilant uproar. By 
mid-July most of the birds have ceased to sing, but some 
Song Sparrows keep it up until the last of August. Listen¬ 
ing to these from day to day I have been interested and 
somewhat surprised to note the variations of “Sweet, sweet, 
sweet, very merry cheer,” the words Henry Van Dyke puts 
into the notes of Song Sparrows. It is a good way to sug¬ 
gest the rhythm. Every Song Sparrow in Squeteague does 
him the honor to begin with the first three syllables. But 
beyond that every one of them sings a song of his own, no 
two birds singing alike and each bird having from several 
to many variations of his own. One of them, for instance, 
we know as the Squeteague Song Sparrow, because in his 
song he pronounces that word with astonishing plainness. 
I heard him one morning sitting on the camp roof and 
singing as follows: “Sweet, sweet, sweet, very merry cheer, 
Squeteague.” Now Squeteague is the Indian name for 
weakfish, which formerly frequented Buzzards Bay. Many 
singing birds are imitators. The catbird across the cove 
reproduces the notes of the Whip-poor-will and Robin most 
vividly. It is easy to see where he gets them. Perhaps the 
generations of song sparrows that preceded this one heard 
“Squeteague” from fishing Indians often enough to catch it 
and add it to the family song. I take it that this particular 
bird comes of a race that lived long on the shore and paid 
45 
