notes have a peculiar liquid tone, and sometimes resemble the rapid dropping of water by the single drop into a wooden cistern which is half full. They may be compared to the trilling of the Hair-Bird, a kindred species, less rapidly uttered, and upon a lower key. If their notes are not plaintive, as Nuttall considered them, they produce very vividly a sensation of solitude, that tempts you to listen long and patiently, as to a sweet strain in some rude ballad music.

THE WOOD-SPARROW.

When the flowers of early summer are gone, and the graceful neottia is seen in the meadows, extending its spiral clusters among the nodding grasses; when the purple orchis is glowing in the wet grounds, and the roadsides are gleaming with the yellow blossoms of the hypericum, the merry voice of the Bobolink has ceased and many other familiar birds have become silent. At this time, if we stroll away from the farm and the orchard into more retired and wooded haunts, we may hear at all hours and at frequent intervals the pensive and melodious notes of the Wood-Sparrow, who sings as if he were delighted at being left almost alone to warble and complain to the benevolent deities of the grove. He who in his youth has made frequent visits to these pleasant and solitary places, among the thousands of beautiful and sweetscented flowers that spring up among the various spicy and fruit-bearing shrubs that unite to form a genuine whortleberry-pasture, he only knows the unspeakable delights which are awakened by the sweet, simple notes of this little warbler.

The Wood-Sparrow is somewhat smaller than a Canary, with a pale chestnut-colored crown, above of a brownish hue, and dusky-white beneath. Though he does not seem

to be a shy bird, I have never seen him in our gardens. The inmates of solitary cottages alone are privileged to hear his notes from their windows. He loves the plains and the hillsides which are half covered with a primitive. growth of young pines, junipers, cornels, and whortleberrybushes, and lives upon the seeds of grasses and wild lettuce, with occasional repasts of insects and fruits. His notes are mellow and plaintive, and, though often prolonged to a considerable length, seldom consist of more than one strain. He begins slowly and emphatically, as if repeating the syllable de, de, de, de, any number of times, increasing in rapidity, and at the same time sliding upward, by almost imperceptible gradations, about one or two tones on the musical scale.

WOOD-SPARROW'S SONG.

de de de de de de de de de dddddddddddd

In the latter part of June, when this bird is most musical, he occasionally varies his song, by uttering a few chirps after the first strain, like the Canary, then recommencing it, and repeating it thus perhaps three or four times. I once heard a Canary that repeated this reiterated song of the Wood-Sparrow, and it seemed to me to surpass any notes I had ever heard before from this sweet little domesticated songster.

THE GROUND-ROBIN OR CHEWINK.

While listening to the notes of the Wood-Sparrow, we are constantly saluted by the agreeable, though less musical, notes of the Ground-Robin, an amusing little bird that confines himself chiefly to the edges of woods. This bird is elegantly spotted with white, red, and black, the

female being of a bright bay color where the male is red. Every rambler knows him, not only by his plumage and his peculiar note, but also by his singular habit of lurking among the bushes, appearing and disappearing like a squirrel, and watching all our movements. It is with difficulty that a gunner can obtain a good aim at him, so rapidly does he change his position among the leaves and branches. In these motions he resembles the Wren. When he perceives that we are observing him he pauses in his song, and utters that peculiar note of complaint from which he has derived the name Chewink. The sound is more like chewee, accenting the second syllable.

The Chewink is a very constant singer during four months of the year, from the first of May. He is untiring in his lays, seldom resting for any considerable time from morn to night, being never weary in rain or in sunshine, or at noonday in the hottest weather of the season. His song consists of two long notes, the first about a third above the second, and the last part made up of several rapidly uttered liquid notes, about one tone below the first note.

SONG OF THE CHEWINK.

asm.

There is an expression of great cheerfulness in these notes, though they are not delivered with much enthusiBut music, like poetry, must be somewhat plaintive in its character to take strong hold of the feelings. I have never known any person to be affected by these notes as many are by those of the Wood-Sparrow. While employed in singing, the Chewink is usually perched on the lower branch of a tree, near the edge of a wood, or on the summit of a tall bush. He is a true forest bird, and

builds his nest upon the ground in the thickets that conceal the boundaries of the wood.

The note of the Chewink and his general appearance and habits are well adapted to render him conspicuous, and to cause him to be known and remembered, while the Wood-Sparrow and the Veery might remain unobserved. Our birds are like our "men of genius." As in the literary world there is a description of mental qualities which, though of a high order, must be pointed out by an observing few before the multitude can appreciate them, so the sweetest songsters of the wood are unknown to the mass of the community, while many ordinary performers, whose talents are conspicuous, are universally known and admired.

THE REDSTART AND SPECKLED CREEPER.

As we advance into the wood, if it be midday, or before the decline of the sun, the notes of two small birds will be sure to attract our attention. The notes of the two are very similar and as slender and fine as the chirp of a grasshopper, being distinguished from it only by a different and more pleasing modulation. These birds are the Redstart and the Speckled Creeper. The first is the more rarely seen. It is a bird of the deep forest, and shuns observation by hiding itself in some of the obscure parts of the wood. Samuels, however, has known a nest of the Redstart to be built and the young reared in a garden, and other authors consider the bird more familiar than shy. In general markings, that is, as we view the bird without particular examination, the Redstart is like the Chewink, though not more than half its size. It lives entirely on insects, darting out upon them from its perch like a flycatcher, and searching the foliage for them like a sylvian. Its song is similar to that of the Summer Yellow-Bird, so

common in our gardens among the fruit-trees, but more shrill and feeble. The Creeper's note does not differ from it more than the notes of different individuals of the same species.

The Speckled Creeper takes its name from its habit of creeping like a Woodpecker round the branches of trees, feeding upon the insects and larvæ that are lodged in the crevices of the bark. It often leaves the wood and diligently manœuvres among the trees in our gardens and enclosures. The constant activity of the birds of this species affords proof of the myriads of insects that must be destroyed by them in the course of one season, and which, if not kept in check by these and other small birds, would, by their multiplication, render the earth uninhabitable by man.

THE OVEN-BIRD.

While listening to the slender notes of these little sylvians, hardly audible amidst the din of grasshoppers, the rustling of leaves, and the sighing of winds among the tall oaken boughs, suddenly the space resounds with a Loud, shrill song, like the sharpest notes of the Canary. The little warbler that startles us with this vociferous note is the Golden-crowned Thrush or Oven-Bird. This bird is confined almost exclusively to the woods, and is particularly partial to noonday, when he sings. There is no melody in his lay. He begins rather moderately, increasing in loudness as he proceeds, until his note seems to fill the whole wood. He might be supposed to utter the words I see, I see, I see, I see, emphasizing the first word, and repeating the two five or six times, growing louder and louder with each repetition. There is not a bird in the wood that equals this little piper in the energy with which he delivers his brief communication. His