194 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 
little object fluttering through the branches of a 
sapling three or four rods away; making your 
neck ache looking for the vexatious flitters that 
hunt in the tops of the highest trees; following 
the hint of a faint chip here, while you keep your 
eye on half a dozen of the rarer warblers that 
have just come in sight over there; losing track 
of the whole flock as you stop to study the habits 
of one; and then having to trudge the woods 
over, straining your ears till convinced that you 
are deaf, as you try in vain to catch the chick- 
a-dee-dee of the titmouse, or the yang, yang of 
the nuthatch, which would give a clue to the 
whereabouts of their companions, the runaways 
—after a morning spent in this way, you will 
come back to the thrushes with a feeling of pos- 
itive relief. 
In the first place, they are large enough to be 
seen, and give you the full benefit of their size 
by keeping near the ground. ‘Then, if you find 
one, he is likely to stay and let you inspect him. 
Moreover, it is possible to identify him without 
knowing about each individual tail feather and 
wing marking. Besides all this, you gain self- 
respect in associating with the thrushes. When 
you have chased after a flock of warblers half a 
day, only to find, on comparing your notes with 
descriptions in the books, that what you saw 
applies equally well to three or four widely dif- 
fering species, your opinion of yourself dwindles 
