on to the vocal powers
of the different birds, and have endeavored to designate the parts
which each one performs in the grand hymn of Nature. I shall first
introduce the Song-Sparrow, (_Fringilla melodia_,) a little bird that
is universally known and admired. The Song-Sparrow is the earliest
visitant and the latest resident of the vocal tenants of the field. He
is plain in his vesture, undistinguished from the female by any
superiority of plumage, and comes forth in the spring and takes his
departure in the autumn in the same suit of russet and gray by which he
is always recognized.

In March, before the violet has ventured to peep out from the southern
knoll of the pasture or the sunny brow of the hill, while the northern
skies are liable to pour down at any hour a storm of sleet and snow,
the Song-Sparrow, beguiled by southern winds, has already made his
appearance, and, on still mornings, may be heard warbling his few merry
notes, as if to make the earliest announcement of his arrival. He is,
therefore, the true harbinger of spring, and, though not the sweetest
songster of the woods, has the merit of bearing to man the earliest
tidings of the opening year, and of declaring the first vernal promises
of Nature. As the notes of those birds that sing only in the night come
with a double charm to our ears, because they are harmonized by silence
and hallowed by the hour that is sacred to repose--in like manner does
the Song-Sparrow delight us in tenfold measure, because he sings the
sweet prelude to the universal hymn of Nature.

His haunts are the pastures which have been half reduced to tillage,
and are still partially filled with wild shrubbery; for he is not so
familiar in his habits as the Hair-bird, that comes close up to our
door-step, to find the crumbs that are swept from our tables. Though
his voice is constantly heard in the garden and orchard, he selects a
more retired spot for his nest, preferring not to trust his progeny to
the doubtful mercy of the lords of creation. In some secure retreat,
under a tussock of herbage or a tuft of shrubbery, the female sits upon
her nest of soft dry grass, containing four or five eggs, of a greenish
white ground, almost entirely covered with brownish specks. Commencing
in April, she rears three broods of young during the season, and her
mate prolongs his notes until the last brood has flown from the nest.

The notes of the Song-Sparrow would not entitle him to be ranked am