In the fields, the pastures and along the roadsides of the Eastern
United States and the British Provinces may be found the unobtrusive
Vesper Sparrow (Poocaetes gramineus). It is also known by other
names such as the Bay-winged Bunting or Sparrow, the Grass-Finch and
sometimes, though incorrectly, it is called the Field Sparrow. The
latter name should only be applied to one of the Chipping Sparrows
(Spizella pusilla).
The characteristics of the male and the female are the same. The
exposed part of the outer and the tip of the second tail feathers are
white. This character is very marked as the bird alights. The feathers
of the underside of the body are usually yellowish-white and the tops
of the wings are a light chestnut-brown. It does not seem to shun one's
presence, but will run along the side of the road, a short distance
ahead, occasionally stopping for observation.
The Vesper Sparrow builds its nest on the ground without reference
to any special plant protection except that of grass and other low
herbage. The eggs are usually four in number, the general color of
which is light gray marked, in a variable manner, by dull reddish-brown
spots or blotches.
When frightened from her nest the mother-bird will endeavor to attract
the attention of the intruder by slowly flying away and occasionally
feigning injury by falling.
Mr. John Burroughs, in his little book, "Wake Robin," writes in an
admirable manner of the song and habits of this little bird. He says:
"Have you heard the song of the Field-Sparrow? If you have lived in a
pastoral country, with broad upland pastures, you could hardly have
missed him. Wilson, I believe, calls him the Grass-Finch, and was
evidently unacquainted with his powers of song. The two white lateral
quills of his tail, and his habit of running and skulking a few yards
in advance of you as you walk through the fields, are sufficient to
identify him. Not in meadows or orchards, but in high, breezy pasture
grounds, will you look for him. His song is most noticeable after
sundown, when other birds are silent, for which reason he has been
aptly called the Vesper Sparrow. The farmer following his team from the
field at dusk catches his sweetest strain. His song is not so brisk and
varied as that of the Song-Sparrow, being softer and wilder, sweeter
and more plaintive. Add the best parts of the lay of the latter to
the sweet vibrating chant of the Wood Sparrow (Spizella pusilla), and
you have the evening hymn of the Vesper-bird--the poet of the plain
unadorned pastures. Go to those broad, smooth, uplying fields, where
the cattle and sheep are grazing, and sit down on one of the warm,
clean stones, and listen to this song. On every side, near and remote,
from out the short grass which the herds are cropping, the strain
rises. Two or three long, silver notes of rest and peace, ending in
some subdued trills or quavers, constitute each separate song. Often
you will catch only one or two of the bars, the breeze having blown the
minor part away. Such unambitious, unconscious melody! It is one of
the most characteristic sounds in Nature. The grass, the stones, the
stubble, the furrow, the quiet herds, and the warm twilight among the
hills, are all subtly expressed in this song; this is what they are at
least capable of."
[Illustration: VESPER SPARROW.
(Poocaetes gramineus.)
1/2 Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.
COPYRIGHT 1900, BY
A. W. MUMFORD, CHICAGO.]