366 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
white beneath, with thrush-like black streaks on breast 
and sides. 
House Wren. Dear little Jenny Wren, of: several nests 
and a large family, who lives in our bird-boxes, out- 
buildings, and garden trellises. Gowned in reddish 
brown, with fine black bars and a pert little tail that 
she jerks nervously as she flies. Johnny Wren is 
the singing partner, for Jenny has no voice left of a 
morning after she has spluttered and scolded her 
bird neighbours and attended to her housekeeping. 
Brown Thrasher. 
Catbird. 
Wood Thrush. 
Veery. — No matter how familiar with them we may be, 
we must always pause to look and listen when we 
meet one of this wonderful quartette of vocalists, whose 
voices belong with the gorgeously apparelled singers 
of the opera; but the quiet plumage and demeanour 
of three of the four mark them for peaceful home 
life and seclusion. 
WINGED MYSTERIES 
“Four birds there are that live under one roof, so to 
speak, for they belong to one order divided into three differ- 
ent families. They are perfectly familiar to most of us who 
have lived in the real country, and yet they awaken our 
curiosity anew every season when they return. These 
birds are the Whip-poor-will, Chimney Swift, Nighthawk, 
and Humming-bird. The two first return to New England 
late in April; the two last during the first part of May, 
