A BROWN THRASHER 
Although these same legs seemed to be 
too weak for perching, nevertheless when 
we put them back into the nest the young 
birds with one accord refused to stay there 
and scampered in every direction. After 
many catchings and attempts to make them 
cuddle down in bed like well-behaved babies, 
we at last succeeded. But the next day they 
were off early and could nowhere be found. 
The father was still there, and from his 
anxiety I knew they were hidden in the 
vicinity, but every effort to discover their 
whereabouts failed. A week later we came 
upon one perched on a low branch of a 
thorn-bush only ten feet from his original 
nursery. How handsome he was with his 
clear white and brown breast and bright 
chestnut back, the yellow eye-ring giving 
him an appearance of great intelligence. 
Nor, with such a father, could this have 
been belied. He had grown quite a 
respectable stub of a tail, and could fly 
short distances. How I did want to take 
him home with me just long enough to 
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