i8 IN A CHESHIRE GARDEN 



house to sing from), the top of the highest 

 chimney has been another, and the weather- 

 cock on the outbuildings has been chosen 

 year after year by a throstle as his own 

 peculiar stand. This last is a favourite plat- 

 form for the musical performances of other 

 birds as well ; a robin constantly uses it, and 

 a swallow, and more than once I have seen a 

 little wren there singing away with all his 

 might, a might altogether out of proportion 

 to his tiny body. 



Whilst most throstles seem to like as high 

 a perch as possible to sing from, I remember 

 one that habitually poured forth the flood of 

 his melody raised above the level of the 

 ground by a clod of earth only. 



One morning (in March, 1897) I heard a 

 throstle uttering a peculiar shrill kind of cry, 

 not a long-drawn-out note such as I have 

 twice heard from a blackbird, but a succes- 

 sion rather of short notes. At first I couldn't 

 make out what or where the noise was, but 

 traced it after a time to the thrush, who con- 

 tinually uttered the cry as he was hunting for 

 worms on the grass. 



A standing marvel is the way in which a 

 thrush can tell that there is a worm below the 

 ground at a particular place. As he goes 

 hopping about in a promiscuous sort of way, 

 he suddenly stops with his head on one side 

 looking and listening for a second, then he 

 pounces on the exact spot and forthwith pulls 



