The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-08-17
THE CRIMsON-FRONTED FINCH.
BY n. L. GRAHAM.

charming little inches was MADE one
March morning, about half past five
o'clock, when was awakened by bird
voices at the window of my room in
a hotel in Southern California.
| soon learned that the sweet matin
songs came from a number of finches
that were perched close by the open
window, and it seemed as though the
feathered choristers were inviting me
to come out of doors and enjoy the
balmy spring morning. They were
quite tame, and did not fly away I'M
til had noted the beautiful crimson
of their heads, Threats and breasts.
The rest of the plumage was of
brown color, excepting crimson spot
over the root of the tail.
The birds were about the size of
English sparrows, and resembled
them in point of numbers, fearless
ness, and familiarity about the dwell
ings Of man. Unlike the sparrows'
the fnches do not monopolize an en-
tire neighborhood and drive away the
native birds; for one afternoon, while
strolling through the grounds con-
nected with the hotel, passed by
thicket of tangled shrubbery, from
whence came very pleasing bird
medley. A look through my field
glass showed me number of finches,
together with white-crowned SPAR
rows, and some small birds which l
could not at the moment identify, all
feeding and chattering away in har-
mony, evidently the best of feeling
prevailing at the dinner party.
OF the song of the crimson-fronted
finch there is much to be said. The
song proper is, to my mind, an exact
reproduction of the merry, bubbling
melody of the jolly little house wren,
so familiar to the bird-lover of the
East. In fact, when first heard it,
was certain that there was wren
in the dense bushes of heliotrope and
geranium that bordered the garden
path; but 1 soon discovered the
singer perched on the top of small
cypress tree, the music fairly gurg-
ling up through his swelling crimson
throat. | heard the same joyous song
come from finch sitting on trolley
wire in tie middle of the village
street. Evidently the environment
makes no difference in the strength
or beauty of the birds song. The
call note is short and sharp, some
thing like the chirp of the canary. l
am not certain that the females have
the same gift of song as their hege
) lords. | have never heard them do
more than twitter and give the call
note lust described. The crimson is
absent from the plumage of Madam
Finch, but she seems contented and
happy in her modest garb.
witnessed pleasing little love-
scene one day from my window. On
the corner of the railing around the
porch roof are two large decorative
wooden knobs, on one of which sat
demure looking little bird, her back
turned on an unfortunate sutton who
was perched on the other knob, evil
IDENTIFY not in favor and looking quite
cast down. On the broad railing-at
her ladyship's feet as it were-strut-
ted back and forth the favored aspir-
ant for the little lady's affections; his
wings trailing, his crimson breast
swelling and his tiny framequivering
with suppressed emotion as he poured
forth his song of undying love. The
rejected and detected sutton, aban-
doning hope, few off to a nearby
cactus, perhaps there to commit sui
eide on one of the sharp spines; and
lust then the clatter of horses hoofs
on the drive frightened away both the
sued and the favored sutton. | am
reasonably certain that the lady said
"yes," but | still regret the untimely
interruption f the drama in bird life.
The cone shaped bills of the inches
proclaim them seed-eaters, but they
are not averse to insect diet, for l
have seen them frequently fly down
to the road and seize and devour an
insect with great relish.
Like the English sparrows, the
finches build their nests in all sorts
of odd places about the habitations
of man; holes in walls, in barnes,
under matched roofs, or in the forks
of tree close by house.
At Sierra Madre, few miles from
the hotel, examined an old nest
taken from the vines growing about
a friends house. Outwardly this
nest was constructed of twigs and
weed stalks, but largely of tough,
gray, felt-like strips taken from a
certain weed that was plentiful on the
mountain sides. Dead weed bios