THE BIRD OF SOLITUDE. 23 



for three quarters of their length a dark slate 

 color, so that where the plumage is parted in 

 performing the toilet, it looks like black plush. 

 Closely examined, too, with a common magni- 

 fying-glass, every tiniest barb of the feather is 

 found to be ringed, dark slate and white, an ex- 

 quisitely beautiful object. 



I know of no bird with more strongly marked 

 character than the wood thrush. First to be 

 noticed is his love of quiet. Not only does ho 

 prefer the solitary parts of the woods, but he 

 especially avoids the neighborhood of his social 

 cousin, the robin. The chattering, the constant 

 noise, the curiosity, the general fussiness, of 

 that garrulous bird are intolerable to his more 

 reposeful relative. He may be found living 

 harmoniously among many varieties of smaller 

 birds, and he even shows no dislike of the cat- 

 bird; but come into a robin haunt, and you 

 may look in vain for a wood thrush. 



Then his gravity. When a thrush has noth- 

 ing to do, he does nothing. He scorns to amuse 

 himself with senseless chatter, or aimless flit- 

 ting from twig to twig. When he wants a 

 worm, he seeks a worm, and eats it leisurely ; 

 and then he stands quietly till he wants an- 

 other, or something else. Even in the nest the 

 baby thrush is dignified. No clamor comes 

 from this youngster when his parent approaches 



