232 NA T URE-ST UD Y RE VIEW 



brownish points. This thrush is the slenderest and most grace- 

 ful of all the members of this aristocratic fam'ly, and can be 

 distinguished from them by the absence of any yellow about the 

 eye, and from its faintly marked breast. The Veery is a shy 

 bird and frequents the deep woods. It becomes doubly secretive 

 during the nesting season. 



The nest is carefully hidden in a clump of sprouts or ferns, a 

 few inches from the ground, and its materials, bark and grasses, 

 aid further in concealing it from view. The eggs which it is 

 designed to protect are of a beautiful greenish blue, much like 

 those of the Catbird. 



That nature lover is unfortunate indeed who has not been 

 thrilled by the ghostly, insinuating, dulcet rolling song of the 

 Veery as he sings in the quiet hours of the morning or in the more 

 solemn hours of the twilight, at which some especially happy 

 individuals voice their joy! 



Our thrushes are migratory birds, passing only a few of the 

 .-summer months in our latitudes. The smallest, the Hermit 

 Thrush, is the first to arrive and the last to depart, yet he is 

 little seen during his long visit. He is not a difficult bird to recog- 

 nize. The upper parts are olive brown, shading into a tail of 

 pale, but conspicuous rufous. The throat, sides of the neck, 

 and breast are pale buff. Dark brown arrow points tip the 

 feathers of the throat and neck, and large rounded spots dot the 

 breast. However the markings of the under parts are not as 

 prominent as are those of the Wood Thrush. 



When the nesting season arrives the Hermit Thrush secretes 

 itself in the deep woods, where, on the ground, it builds its nest 

 of coarse grass and pine needles. The eggs closely resemble 

 those of the Veery. 



The Hermit Thrush is the prima donna par excellence among 

 our American birds, and it is said that only the European Nightin- 

 gale can fairly claim to be its peer. Because of its ethereal, 

 serene, and heavenly song, the bird was given the name of Swamp 

 Angel by the early settlers in the Adirondacks. Burroughs 

 calls it "the finest sound in nature. It seems to be the voice of 

 that calm sweet solemnity one attains to in his best moments. 

 It realizes a peace and a deep solemn joy that only the finest 

 souls may know." 



