Their song is sweet and pleasing. They are not constant songsters, but seem to be moved by some unseen spirit, for a flock will suddenly burst out in a melody of song that is entrancing. He who has been favored with such a concert is indeed fortunate. Their whole being seems to be brought into action in the production of this song, which is “somewhat crude and labored in technique, but the tones are very sweet indeed, not soft and low but quite loud and clear. Quite often the song opens with one or two long syllables and ends with a merry little trill having a delightfully human intonation. There is, indeed, something innocent and child-like about the voices of these sparrows.”
The Tree Sparrow is often called the Winter Chippy and is confounded with the chipping sparrow, which it resembles. It is a larger bird and carries a mark of identification by which it may be easily known. There is on the grayish white breast a small black spot. Moreover, the Tree Sparrow arrives in its winter range about the time that the chippy retires to the Gulf States and Mexico.
THE SPARROWS’ BEDTIME.
“Wee, wee, weet, tweet, tweet, tweet!”
What a clatter, what a chatter
In the village street.
“Chee, chee, cheep, cheep, chee, chee, chee!”
What a rustling, what a hustling
In the maple tree.
“Twit, twit, flit, flit, get away, quit!”