HASTY OBSERVATION 267 



One day in early April as I was riding along the 

 road I heard the song of the brown thrasher. The 

 thrasher is not due yet, I said to myself, but there 

 was its song, and no mistake, with all its quibs and 

 quirks and interludes, being chanted from some 

 treetop a few yards in advance of me. Let us have 

 a view of the bird, I said, as I approached the tree 

 upon which I fancied he was perched. The song 

 ceased and no thrasher was visible, but there sat 

 a robin, which, as I paused, flew to a lower tree in a 

 field at some distance from the road. Then I moved 

 on, thinking the songster had eluded me. On look- 

 ing back I chanced to see the robin fly back to the 

 top of the tree where I had first disturbed it, and in 

 a moment or two more forth came the thrasher's 

 song again. Then I went cautiously back and caught 

 the robin in the very act of reproducing perfectly 

 the song of the brown thrasher. A bolder plagiarist 

 I had never seen ; not only had he got the words, as 

 it were correctly, but he delivered them in the same 

 self-conscious manner. His performance would prob- 

 ably have deceived the brown thrasher himself. How 

 did the robin come by this song? I can suggest no 

 other explanation than that he must have learned it 

 from the brown thrasher. Probably the latter bird 

 sang near the nest of the robin, so that the young 

 heard this song and not that of their own kind. If 

 so it would be interesting to know if all the young 

 males learned the song. 



Close attention is the secret of learning from na- 

 ture's book, as from every other. Most persons only 



