By -Ways and Butterflies 



My thrasher eyed me steadily for a 

 moment at short range, for one of his 

 breed, then dropped lightly down upon 

 the roadside not twenty feet from the 

 spot from which I had not moved since 

 he stopped me by his calling. When 

 studying birds you must keep very 

 still. I have found that out. Any 

 quick motion arouses instant suspicion. 

 Evidently he had not finished feeding, or, 

 for the sake of giving me a "pointer," 

 he pretended he had not, for he at once 

 began industriously seeking the seeds 

 or insects that appeal to mocking- 

 birds, and, strange to me at least, 

 chirped sharply cheery notes between 

 each "bite" as he hopped and fed 

 along the turf; singing, in other words, 

 as he worked. He traveled thus for 

 perhaps fifteen or twenty feet, eying 

 me closely all the time, and, when he 

 seemed satisfied that I had under- 

 stood, disappeared in the woods. We 

 are all expected to whistle if we can 

 as we go our way, no matter what our 



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