THE THRUSH. 211 



" But there was one thrush, whose notes I soon learn- 

 ed to distinguish from all the other thrushes. Every 

 morning I listened for his voice, which was sure to 

 precede the matins of all the other birds. In the day- 

 time, his brilliant tones were mingled and almost lost in 

 the general melody ; but as soon as the sun was prepar- 

 ing to set, when the blackbirds had either sung them- 

 selves to sleep, or were flown off to keep their festivals 

 elsewhere, then was my thrush's practising time. He 

 was kind enough to select a tree not far from my win- 

 dow, while the other thrushes placed themselves at a 

 respectful distance, and edged in a note here and there 

 as they could. He opened the rehearsal with a number 

 of wild trills and calls, which I could not well under- 

 stand, only they were very sweet and cheering to me ; 

 and he w^ouLd pause between each, till a soft response 

 was heard from some distant bough. But when he had 

 fixed upon a little cadence which pleased him, it became 

 a more serious business. Strange to say, I could always 

 tell when this would be ; for what pleased me particu- 

 larly was sure to please him : so true it is that Nature 

 has given the same perception of melody to man and 

 birds. He would chant it over in a low tone two or 

 three times, as if to make himself sure of it ; then he 

 carolled it out with triumphant glee ; then stopped short 



