The ThrusJis favourite Anvil 135 



fly to a tree a solitary tree such as is sometimes seen in 

 the midst of an arable field. At Wick Farm, sitting in 

 the cool parlour, or in the garden under the shade of the 

 trees, you may hear him almost every morning in the 

 meadows that come right up to the orchard hedge. That 

 hedge is his favourite approach to the garden : he flies to 

 it first, and gradually works his way along under cover till 

 nearer the cultivated beds. Both blackbird and thrush are 

 particularly fond of visiting a patch of cabbages in a shady, 

 quiet corner : there are generally two or three there after 

 the worms and caterpillars, and so forth. 



The thrushes build in the garden in several places, 

 especially in an ivy-hidden arbour a wooden frame com- 

 pletely covered with ivy and creeping flowers. Close by 

 is a thick box-hedge, six feet high and nearly as much 

 through, and behind this is a low-thatched tool-house, 

 where spades, moletraps, scythes, reaping-hooks, and other 

 implements are kept. Here lies a sarsen-stone, hard as 

 iron, about a foot thick, the top of which chances to be 

 smooth and level. This is the thrush's favourite anvil. 



He searches about under the ivy, under which the snails 

 hide in their shells in the heat of the day, and brings them 

 forth into the light. The shell is too large for his beak to 

 hold it pincer-fashion, but at the entrance the snail's 

 doorway he can thrust his bill in, and woe then to the 

 miserable occupant ! With a hop and flutter the thrush 

 mounts the stone anvil, and there destroys his victim in 

 workmanlike style. Up goes his head, lifting the snail 

 high in the air, and then, smash ! the shell comes down 

 on the stone with all the force he can use. About two 

 such blows break the shell, and he then coolly chips the 

 fragments off as you might from an egg, and makes very 

 few mouthfuls of the contents. On the stone and round 



