But there are sparrows and sparrows. Some of the family are our sweetest singers. Take the song-sparrow, the bird of the silver tongue. It is known throughout the Eastern United States and Canada; and on the Pacific coast and elsewhere it is still the song-sparrow, though it varies slightly in color in different regions. In many states it remains all winter, singing when the snow is falling, and keeping comradeship with the chickadee. Everybody knows the little fellow by his voice if not by his coat. Nothing fine about the coat or gown save its modest tints. But, as with many another bird of gray or brown plumage, its song is the sweetest. Hearty, limpid, cheerful in the saddest weather, always ending in the melody of an upward inflection, as if he invited answer. The song-sparrow is the only one we have noticed to gargle the song in its throat, swallowing a few drops with each mouthful; or it may be that he stops to take a breath between notes. We have seen him sing, sprawled flat on a log in a hot day, with wings outspread, and taking a sun bath. The song is always very brief, as if he would not tire his listeners, though he gives them an encore with hearty grace. Individual birds differ in song, no two singing their dozen notes exactly alike. While his mate is patiently waiting to get the best results from her four or five party-colored eggs, the song-sparrow sings constantly, never far from the nest in the bush or the low tree, or even on the ground, where cats are debarred from the vicinity. One never can depend on the exact color of the eggs, for they vary in tint from greenish white to browns and lavender, speckled or clouded, "just as it happens." And the feathers of the birds have all these colors mingled and dotted and striped, and dashed off, as you may see for yourself, by looking out of the window or taking a still stroll down along the creek. The song-sparrow has a pert little way of sticking its tail straight up like a wren when it runs--and it is always running about. In our grounds they follow us like kittens, keeping up their happy chirp as if glad they ever lived and were blessed with feet and a beak.