That is why the chewink sings so happily from dawn till dark.
His summer song is now heard more often than his spring song. Through
April, May and June he sings:
Fah do do'-do'-do'-do'-do'
But now, this song is heard more often:
Me' fah'-fah'-fah'-fah'-fah'
This song is more appropriate to the summer. There is more of fullness
and beauty in it, more of the quality of the woodthrush's songs, for
which it is often mistaken.
* * * * *
From a tiny hawthorne bush, no higher than a collie's back, a field
sparrow flies nervously to a low limb of a hickory tree and begs that
her nest be not disturbed. It is neatly placed in the middle of the
bush about a foot from the ground, made of medium grasses and rootlets
and lined with finer grasses and horsehair. The three bluish-white
eggs with rufous markings at the larger end are the field-sparrow's
own. Into a nest found a month ago, at the foot of a yarrow stalk, the
cowbird had sneaked three speckled eggs, leaving only one of the
pretty eggs of the field-sparrow. At that time the cowbirds were to be
seen everywhere; they chattered every morning in the trees, and the
females left their unwelcome eggs in nearly every nest. One little
red-eyed vireo's nest had five cowbirds' eggs,--none of her own.
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