162 BY-WAYVS AND BIRD-NOTES. 
a watery gurgle in its lower ones, that give to 
its song, usually heard in low, heavily wooded, 
dusky semi-swamps, a peculiar vibration alto- 
gether indescribable. Its nest is a curious 
mixture of sticks, leaves, grasses, and rootlets, 
usually set on or near the ground. Its eggs 
are greenish blue. Of all the thrushes this 
appears to me to be the shyest and wildest, 
and while its voice lacks that flexibility and. 
compass possessed by those of the brown- 
thrush and the cat-bird, it certainly has the 
advantage at the point of “mbre and of liquid- 
ity. One can imagine nothing to compare 
with some of its notes, unless it would be the 
blending of the tones of a silver bell with the 
bubbling of a brook over pebbles. Its song is 
usually heard at a considerable distance, in 
the twilight gloom of damp woods, and there 
is a touching trace of melancholy in it that 
makes it blend well with the environment. 
Along the Wabash river, in the broad, wooded 
“bottoms,” I have heard it singing long after 
sunset, and its voice is the first sound that 
breaks the silence of the morning there. 
One who has loved the woods and fields and 
has spent much time in the pursuit of knowl- 
edge in the wild paths of nature, can look back 
upon the days that are gone and see so many 
bright visions—hear so many sweet sounds 
and feel so many thrills through the nerves of 
memory! One can scarcely be called senti- 
mental if one gushes a little over one’s sweet 
experiences. 
The next best thing to having cheerful and 
healthful memories is the liberty of imparting 
something of their effect to others ; and I do 
not envy the man whose heart does not some- 
