THRUSHES 133 



to begin to sing, following closely upon the ^listle 

 Thrush, but, unlike the latter, it prefers a calm clay, 

 when the warm sunshine hints at returning spring, 

 for its opening performance. In this respect, in 

 my experience, it is always some weeks earlier than 

 the Blackbird, although in some districts Black- 

 birds have been known to be in full song on Christ- 

 mas Day. 



The Throstle — as this bird is familiarly named — 

 is well known in every English garden, and is 

 welcomed bv all, except, perhaps, by the more 

 jealous type of fruit growers. 



See it as it emerges from the shelter of the dark 

 glistening leaves of the rhododendrons, and 

 advances upon the lawn. It comes forward with 

 swift, elastic hops, the first long, followed by one 

 or two shorter, then it stands motionless, with its 

 head slightly bent, as though listening intently. 

 Soon, turning abruptly to right or left, it repeats 

 the movement. Suddenly, with a quick pounce of 

 bill, it seizes the head of a great earthworm, and 

 with slow care, standing back upon its heels, it 

 extracts the curling length from its retreat in the 

 earth. Then, with the sun shining on its spotted 

 breast as it stands out clearly against the soft, green 

 grass, it partakes, with rapid gulps, of its morning 

 meal. In a moment more the olive-brown wings 

 are spread, and it flies to a neighbouring tree. 



The food of the Song Thrush, in addition to 

 worms and insects, consists largely of snails. The 

 shells of these are broken bv repeated blows against 

 some hard substance, and a suitable stone may often 

 be found surrounded by the dehris of its feast. In 



