WITH THE THICKET BIRDS 135 



The early June days stole by, and for the 

 thicket-dwellers each day was a time of moment, 

 and the note-book grew bulky. The visiting of 

 a blackpoll warbler last of the migrants noted 

 the marvellous growth of the youngster 

 robins they left the nest on the eleventh day 

 the leisurely manner in which the grackle 

 laid her eggs every second day the dis- 

 covery of the song sparrow's nestful of five 

 young dependents out in the grass-plot just be- 

 yond the trees; the catbird that sang so beauti- 

 fully to the moon at midnight; the hatching of 

 the thrasher family four of them, one egg 

 proving infertile the grackle that hanged 

 himself when he attempted to carry some strong 

 white thread through the willows; the turtle 

 dove's nest that was blown down in the night, 

 the young perishing cruelly on the ground; the 

 wren that built in the fruit tin stuck up in the 

 tree and frayed out the cotton rope to get lining 

 for the twig-structure; these and many more 

 things worth while went down in the log of the 

 thicket birds. 



The one turtle dove mother was almost a 

 puzzle. From the day on which she was dis- 

 covered upon the old robin's nest, she seemed 



