80 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



crows and squirrels and other enemies than the 

 wood thrush. It builds as openly and unsuspi- 

 ciously as if it thought all the world as honest as 

 itself. Its favorite place is the fork of a sapling, 

 eight or ten feet from the ground, where it falls an 

 easy prey to every nest-robber that comes prowling 

 through the woods and groves. It is not a bird 

 that skulks and hides, like the catbird, the brown 

 thrasher, the chat, or the chewink, and its nest is 

 not concealed with the same art as theirs. Our 

 thrushes are all frank, open-mannered birds; but 

 the veery and the hermit build upon the ground, 

 where they at least escape the crows, owls, and 

 jays, and stand a better chance to be overlooked by 

 the red squirrel and weasel also; while the robin 

 seeks the protection of dwellings and outbuildings. 

 For years I have not known the nest of a wood 

 thrush to succeed. During the season referred to 

 I observed but two, both apparently a second at- 

 tempt, as the season was well advanced, and both 

 failures. In one case, the nest was placed in a 

 branch that an apple-tree, standing near a dwelling, 

 held out over the highway. The structure was 

 barely ten feet above the middle of the road, and 

 would just escape a passing load of hay. It was 

 made conspicuous by the use of a large fragment of 

 newspaper in its foundation, — an unsafe material 

 to build upon in most cases. Whatever else the 

 press may guard, this particular newspaper did not 

 guard this nest from harm. It saw the egg and 

 probably the chick, but not the fledgeling. A 



