THE BROWN THRASHER 
Tue Thrasher is the first great musician of the year; he arrives 
in the last week of April, so that his song forms the prelude of the 
chorus which is given in May by the true Thrushes, the Bobolink, 
and the Oriole. There is a spirit, a brilliancy of execution, and a 
power in his song which is perhaps more appropriate to early spring 
than the rich, sweet tone of the birds who take up the strain in 
warmer days. He sings when spring, though assured, is not every- 
where manifest, and the vigor of his ringing phrases serves to dispel 
any lingering doubt that the faint-hearted may yet entertain. 
The trees are yet leafless, and the singer can be seen afar off 
on the very topmost twig of some hillside tree; his long tail is 
held straight below him, his head is uplifted, and from his full 
throat comes phrase after phrase, a succession of the most varied 
and apparently extremely difficult notes, executed with an ease and 
full-hearted joy which, to the ears of many, place the Thrasher in 
the class with the true Thrushes. Like the song of all male birds, 
the performance is not only an offering or an invitation to the 
female, but also an answer to some rival whose fainter notes reach 
the ear from the neighboring grove. 
This last week of April is often one of the most delightful 
seasons of the year, and particularly attractive to a beginner in bird 
study. There are only a few bushes in leaf, and those of a delicate 
green; the dried leaves under them are starred with white blood- 
root; on the hillsides, the purple violet and yellow five-finger are 
wide open in the warm sun, and in the woods, the mayflower and 
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