IN THE SHADE OF THE OAKS. 103 



way back to the Rocky Mountains. He was a 

 beautiful stranger with a soft glossy coat touched 

 off with yellowish green, while his high-bred 

 gentle manners have made me remember him 

 with affectionate interest all 

 these years. Across the gar- 

 den I heard my first song 

 from that unique rhapsodist, 

 the yellow-breasted chat. 

 The same place marks an- 

 other interesting experience. Green-tailed Chewink. 



While I Was sitting in the (One half natural size.) 



crotch of an oak a thrasher came out of the 

 brush into an open space in front of me. Her 

 feathers were disordered and apparently she 

 had come from her nest. She walked with 

 wings tight at her sides and her tail up at an 

 angle well out of the way of the rustling 

 leaves ; altogether a neat alert figure that 

 contrasted sharply with the lazy brown chip- 

 pie which appeared just then in characteristic 

 negligee, its wings hanging and tail drag- 

 ging on the ground. The thrashers of Twin 

 Oaks have bills that are curved like a sickle, 

 and this bird used her tool most skillfully. In- 

 stead of scratching up the leaves and earth with 

 her feet as chewinks and sparrows do, the 

 thrasher used her bill almost exclusively. First 

 she cleared a space by scraping the leaves away, 

 moving her bill through them rapidly from side 



