The wrong man's sparrow

It's October in Berrien, which means it's time to look for eponymonic ammodramids, LeConte's and Nelson's. This afternoon I walked a little weedy patch close my house during nappytime.

Lincoln's sparrow, with a warmly washed finely streaked breast, could vaguely suggest a LeConte's as it hikes itself up a weedstem, though not once you look at the face (or when it flies away).
The Lincoln's were fairly responsive to pished imitations of their call notes.

This not so Indigo Bunting was also not the sparrow I was looking for,

nor are the Yellow-rumps that are now dominating warbler migration.

A Cooper's flew in, took a shot at one of the sparrows and it was time to go.