asant voice a suitor might have seems to have
been to her without attraction, and there was nothing to encourage him
in developing it, nor was she likely to mate with him for it and
transmit it to her male children. On the other hand, let a suitor
appear in whom a more brilliant coloring proclaimed his superior
vigor, and this seems to catch her eye at once. The less accomplished
rival in the tournament of love seems to have been already forgotten.
To their children these successful characteristics were naturally
handed on and led to equal success on their part. If any of these
children possessed this badge of honor in a more than ordinary degree,
he was the more likely to win a mate and thus again the opportunity of
passing on to his offspring his own distinct advantage. Generation by
generation the males have become more beautiful and the females more
discriminating. That the bird is either instinctively or actually
conscious of this advantage would appear from the constant fluffing of
his feathers and spreading of his highly colored wings with which he
evinces his admiration for his ladylove. Even the most hardened
dweller in the city can scarcely have failed to see the sparrow spread
his wings, fluff his feathers, and sink close to the ground, twirling
and gyrating about the object of his affection. It must give him a
shock to see how often she proves temporarily or hypocritically
indifferent to the demonstrative proceedings. Indeed they may
terminate in a thorough trouncing of the male on the part of the lady
of his affections. Now this preference for color over song must have
evidently evolved in connection with the development of social habits
in the English sparrows. His cousins of the fields, our native
sparrows, are much less social, much less likely to be met with in
flocks. To birds who scatter more, beautiful song is a great
advantage. It can be heard at a long distance. But when birds flock
together a much better advantage is that of beautiful clothing, added
to alluring ways.

But we have not nearly exhausted the catalogue of the traits belonging
to our little friend which give him the advantage over other birds in
the struggle for life. His ability to remain with us in winter when
most birds are gone stands him in good stead.

It is readily observed by one who pays the least attention to outdoor
life that winter finds us with comparatively few birds. North of
Maryland and the Ohio River the robin is pr