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."