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Rh resembles as to be called the Winter Chip-bird, coming at a season when the sociable Chippy has gone south. Why it is called Tree Sparrow is not so plain, as it does not build in trees as frequently as the Chippy, and it haunts low bushes. I have seen these Sparrows in December, feeding in flocks on the ground, in company with Snowbirds and a few stray White-throats; dashing about and sometimes singing in a sort of undertone, perfectly careless of cold. Burroughs calls the song "a soft, sweet note, almost running into a warble."

They are very hardy birds, and to them, as with all winter birds, mere cold is secondary in comparison with cutting winds. I have often seen them huddled under stone walls, and once found a flock feeding in the bottom of a dry ditch; and in ploughed fields you will notice that they keep closely to the furrows in windy weather. At night they troop into the evergreen hedge, the piazza vines, and under the rick edges, -anywhere that the wind may not pierce, for that, together with scanty food, reduces their vitality.

This is the precentor who, in early May dawns, gives the key on his little pitch-pipe and leads the chorus that makes