Their services in insect-killing are still not to be despised. A single
pair of these Sparrows, under observation an entire day, were seen to
convey to their young no less than forty grubs an hour, an average
exceeding three thousand in the course of a week. Moreover, even in the
autumn he does not confine himself to grain, but feeds on various seeds,
such as the dandelion, the sow-thistle, and the groundsel; all of which
plants are classed as weeds. It has been known, also, to chase and
devour the common white butterfly, whose caterpillars make havoc among
the garden plants.
The good he may accomplish in this direction, however, is nullified to
the lovers of the beautiful, by the war he constantly wages upon our
song birds, destroying their young, and substituting his unattractive
looks and inharmonious chirps for their beautiful plumage and
soul-inspiring songs.
Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller in "Bird Ways" gives a fascinating picture of
the wooing of a pair of Sparrows in a maple tree, within sight of her
city window, their setting up house-keeping, domestic quarrel,
separation, and the bringing home, immediately after, of a new bride
by the Cock Sparrow.
She knows him to be a domestic tryant, a bully in fact, self-willed and
violent, holding out, whatever the cause of disagreement, till he gets
his own will; that the voices of the females are less harsh than the
males, the chatter among themselves being quite soft, as is their
"baby-talk" to the young brood.
That they delight in a mob we all know; whether a domestic skirmish or
danger to a nest, how they will all congregate, chirping, pecking,
scolding, and often fighting in a fierce yet amusing way! One cannot
read these chapters of Mrs. Miller's without agreeing with Whittier:
"Then, smiling to myself, I said,--
How like are men and birds!"
Although a hardy bird, braving the snow and frost of winter, it likes a
warm bed, to which it may retire after the toils of the day. To this end
its resting place, as well as its nest, is always stuffed with downy
feathers. Tramp, Hoodlum, Gamin, Rat of the Air! Notwithstanding these
more or less deserved names, however, one cannot view a number of
homeless Sparrows, presumably the last brood, seeking shelter in any
corner or crevice from a winter's storm, without a feeling of deep
compassion. The supports of a porch last winter made but a cold roosting
place for three such wanderers within sight of our study window, and
never did we behold them, 'mid a storm of sleet and rain, huddle down in
their cold, ill-protected beds, without resolving another winter should
see a home prepared for them.
ALLEN'S HUMMING BIRD.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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