epeated during the greater part of
the day. His song consists of four or five bars or strains; but there
are individuals that extend them _ad libitum_, varying their notes
after the manner of the Canary. The latter, however, sings with more
precision, and is louder and shriller in his tones. I have not observed
that this bird is more prone to sing in the morning and evening than at
noonday and at all hours.
I have alluded to the fact that the finest singing-birds build their
nests and seek their food either on the ground or among the shrubbery
and the lower branches of trees, and that, when singing, they are
commonly perched rather low. The Linnet is an exception to this general
habit of the singing-birds, and, in company with the Warbling
Fly-catchers, he is commonly high up in an elm or some other tall tree,
and almost entirely out of sight, when exercising himself in song. It
is this preference for the higher branches of trees that enables these
birds, as well as the Golden Robin, to be denizens of the city. Hence
they may be heard singing as freely and melodiously from the trees on
Boston Common as in the wild-wood or orchard in the country.
I have seen the Linnet frequently in confinement; but he does not sing
so well in a cage as in a state of freedom. His finest and most
prolonged strains are delivered while on the wing. On such occasions
only does he sing with fervor. While perched on a tree, his song is
short and not greatly varied. If you closely watch his movements when
he is singing, he may be seen on a sudden to take flight, and, while
poising himself in the air, though still advancing, he pours out a
continued strain of melody, not surpassed by the notes of any other
bird. On account of the infrequency of these occasions, it is seldom we
have an opportunity to witness a full exhibition of the musical powers
of the Linnet.
The male American Linnet is crimson on the head, neck, and throat,
dusky on the upper part of its body, and beneath somewhat
straw-colored. It is remarkable that a great many individuals are
destitute of this color, being plainly clad, like the female. These are
supposed to be old birds, and the loss of color is attributed to age.
The same change takes place when the bird is confined.
The little bird whose notes serve more than those of any other species
to enliven the summer noondays in our villages is the House-Wren
(_Troglodytes fulvus_). It is said to reside and rear its young
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