“It would be worth the trouble of keeping such a fountain filled, I am sure, if only to lure a single pair of Song Sparrows about the garden or yard. For this Sparrow is the only bird whose song I have heard in every month of the year. Not the full spring song, of course, though I have heard a very perfect melody in December; but in dreary winter, when the scatter-brained Robin has forgotten his alarm cry of ‘Quick-Quick-Quick!’ the dear little bird will find a warm spot in which to sun himself after a hard-earned meal of gleaned weed seeds,—for like all of his tribe he is a valiant Weed Warrior, working in the home-fields when other birds have followed the sun for richer fare,—and, after swelling his throat vainly for a few moments, begin to whisper a song, as if in a dream, that finally grows strong and clear. “Yes, neither winter nor the darkness of night dishearten the Song Sparrow. Last season, in the darkest of summer nights, when some slight sound had awakened the feathered sleepers, I have heard a few subdued bars of his song from almost under my window, and I have thought, ‘Yes, there you are, dear little companion, cheerful by day and night, in summer and in winter; how much we, who are called the “higher animals,” have yet to learn from you.’ “Another thing of interest about the Song Sparrow: like the Bluebird, he belongs not alone to us of the East, but to the whole United States as well. To be sure, he changes his size, dress, and name slightly according to location, as does the Bluebird; another proof of the adaptability of the bird to circumstances. THE SONG SPARROW By the road in early spring Always hopefully you sing; It may rain or it may snow, Sun may shine or wind may blow, Still your dainty strain we hear— “Cheer—Cheer— Never, never fear, May will soon be here.” Darling little prophet that you are! When at last the leaves are out And wild flowers all about, Songs of other birds are fraught With the spirit that you taught. Still you sing on, sweet and clear— “Hear—Hear— Happy, happy cheer, Singing all the year.” Jocund little brother of the air. —Lynn Tew Sprague. “Many birds that inhabit parts of the country having different climates vary thus in colour. In the hot, dry desert regions the bird will be found smaller and paler; in the cool, well-watered North, larger and of deeper hue. “Bob-white comes under this law, and our birds in New England are larger and of more brilliant hue than their southern brothers.