The Chipping Sparrow visits the temperate regions of Eastern North America at that time of the year of which the poet Tennyson has said:
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"Now fades the last long streak of snow, Now bourgeons every maze of quick About the flowering squares, and thick By ashen rootes the violets blow." |
With the advancing seasons it passes still farther northward, till at last some of these birds have established their homes in Newfoundland and Southern Canada. They nest and rear their young from the Gulf States to the northern limits of their range.
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Mr. Chapman has truthfully said: "The Chippy is among sparrows what the phoebe is among flycatchers — the humblest, most unassuming member of its family. Both show trustfulness, which, in spite of their unattractive appearance and far from pleasing voices, win our affection."
Few of our feathered friends are more confiding or will show more confidence in its, especially when by quiet, kindly acts we attract them to our doorsteps. They love the habitations of man and will select the vines and bushes of the door-yard in which to build their homes. The name Social Sparrow is fully as appropriate as Chipping Sparrow. The latter name is derived from their song, which is best described as a "monotonous chippy-chippy-chippy-chippy," ending at times in a quiet trill. Their happy dispositions and busy lives are inspiring.
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"Bid the little homely sparrows, Chirping in the cold and rain, Their impatient, sweet complaining, Sing out from their hearts again; Bid them set themselves to mating, Cooing love in softest words, Crowd their nests, all cold and empty, Full of little callow birds." |
The song of the Chippy lasts about four seconds and is repeated at frequent intervals throughout the day. They "frequently repeat their trills in the darkness of night when restless or disturbed." Mr. Silloway has estimated that "if their total practice through the day amounts to five hours, it is probable that they utter more than two thousand songs in a day, and perhaps even more: a wonderful record for these little musicians." The ground, the fence, the porch or a shrub serve alike as a rostrum from which, with uplifted heads, to titter their trills.