WILD NATURE'S WAYS. 



SONG THRUSH ON NEST. 



parent birds at work, brooding and attending to 

 the multifarious wants of their chicks. I accord- 

 ingly erected my little hiding tent close by, and 

 covered it carefully with twigs, dead grass, and 

 whatever other flotsam and jetsam of the woods 

 I could find lying around. As soon as the birds 

 had become thoroughly convinced of the harm- 

 lessness of my contrivance, I entered it early one 

 morning with the camera and a prodigious supply 

 of plates. 



It was not long before the female throstle 

 (distinguished by her lighter and larger spotted 

 breast) came along with a protesting crowd of 

 wriggling worms, which she distributed very im- 

 partially amongst four little yellow mouths opened 

 wide in supplication. The weather was very 

 chilly, and after feeding her chicks, the mother- 

 bird sat down in the nest and puffed out her 



