Their orange-and-tawny backs
gleam in the sunshine from morning until night. There are numbers of
them. Their manners are very marked. They have quite the air of
conquerors. All the other birds yield them precedence, and they
positively domineer over the pugnacious little English sparrow, who is
content to keep in the background and watch his chance when
feeding-time comes.
And of all the curious things about them, what seems most inexplicable
is their tameness. They have no mistrust, but eye you with an
intelligent, knowing look while bringing their young to feed within
half a dozen feet of you. They perch on the croquet-arches in the midst
of a noisy game. They sing directly over your head with the utmost
spirit and vivacity, hardly ceasing all the forenoon, and again
bursting out toward evening and maintaining their song until every
other bird's lay is hushed in the twilight. White of Selborne would
have delighted in such a freak on the part of these pretty gay
strangers, who have left secluded swampy haunts, the deep dells where
the blackberries twine and the daisies and clover blossom, for our
close-cut lawns and elm- and willow-shaded nooks.--A.
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