rWE SIERRA HERMIT THi%.Sll. 



\\ lll'.X asked ii> iiaim- tlic l)cst songster <>f Wasliiiigttui, I answer, nn- 

 Iicsitatinj,'l\ , tlie Hermit Tlirusli. Ft is not tlial the bird cliooscs for liis lionie 

 tlie icv slopes and stunted forests of tlie Iiigli Cascades, tlio that were evidence 

 enoujjli of a |ioetic nature. It is not for any marked vivacity, or |K"rsonal 

 cl)arin of the singer, that we praise Itis song; tlie bird is gentle, shy. and un- 

 assuming, and it is only rarely that one may even see him. It is not that he 

 e.xccls in teclniii|iie such conscious artists as the Catbird, the Thrasher, and the 



Mockingbird ; the 

 mere com]jarison is 

 odious. The song of 

 the I lermit Thrush 

 is a thing a])art. It 



^ ^^^ ^ is sacred music, not 



^«*^Wi ^^^H6 secular. H a \ i n g 



■J^^*^ -"^^^^^K. nothing of the dash 



and a b a n d o n of 

 Wren or Ouzel, least 

 of all the siKjrtive 

 m o c k e r y of the 

 Long-tailed Chat, it 

 is the pure offering 

 of a shriven soul, 

 holding acce|)table 

 converse with high 

 heaven. N'<» voice of 

 solcnin-pealing or- 

 gan or cathedral 

 choir at vespers ever 

 hymns the parting 

 «lay more fittingly 

 than lliis appointetl 

 chorister of the eter- 

 nal hills. Mounte<l 

 on the chancel of 

 some low - crowned 

 fir tree, the bird looks calmly at the setting sun. and slowly jihrases his worshiji 

 in such dulcet tones, exalted, pure, serene, as must haunt tlie cnrri<lors of 

 memory forever after. 



Voii <lo not have to approve of the Hermit Thrush. — nor of I'.n.wning. 

 nor of Shelley, nor of Keats. The writer once lost a subscrii»tioii to "The Birds 

 of Washington. Patrons" Edition. He Luxe. Limited to One Hundred Copies" 

 and all that, you know, because he ventured to defend Rri>wning. "No; I do 



SIKHKA UF.KMIT TUKT 



