42 NESTING AND SINGING OF THE VEERY 



humming a quaint refrain to the gurgle of the rivulet, the 

 Veery meets his mate the song rises the wooed is won the 

 home is made. Should we force our unwelcome presence upon 

 the bird who is brooding her newly-found treasures with the 

 tenderest solicitude, she will nestle closer still, in hope of our 

 passing by, till we might almost touch her; when, without a 

 word of remonstrance or reproach, she takes a little flight, 

 and settles a few yards away, in silent appeal. If the time, the 

 place, the scene, suffice not for our forbearance, with what poor 

 words of hers may we then be moved ? 



The nest will be found at our feet, most likely beneath some 

 bush, resting upon a bed of leaves, or supported in the forks of 

 some stems that spring directly from the ground. It seems 

 large for the size of the bird, and perhaps not so neat and 

 finished as we might expect ; for the Veery, though a patient 

 and faithful housekeeper, cares little for appearances. Among 

 the various materials which enter into its composition, withered 

 leaves form a large part, especially of the outer walls, while 

 grass-stems, weed-stalks, and bark-strips are more compactly 

 woven inside. There is no special lining of the interior, and 

 the cavity is small. The nest may contain four, perhaps five, 

 eggs, like those of the Hermit, greenish-blue, without markings, 

 except in rare instances, when a few specks appear, especially 

 about the larger end. 



Varying estimates have been made of the Veery's powers of 

 song. For myself, I rate this bird as one of the sweetest of our 

 songsters, of whose " clear bell-like notes, resonant, distinct, 

 yet soft and of indescribable sadness", I have spoken on a former 

 occasion. I think Dr. Brewer's faint praise the most cruelly 

 unjust of all ; can he have ever heard the Veery's full utter- 

 ance, and then have written, " The song of this thrush is 

 quaint, but not unmusical ; variable in its character, changing 

 from a prolonged and monotonous whistle to quick and almost 

 shrill notes at the close" I He speaks as he might of a hurdy- 

 gurdy, instead of an exquisite oboe. No one of the voices of 

 the woodland is less quaint than the Veery's ; no one is truer 

 to its theme, more measured in its cadences, or softer and 

 .clearer in tone than that of the Veery rival of the Olive, the 

 Hermit, and the Wood Thrush, completing the quartette of 

 silver-tongued cantatrices, who pledge the promises of spring- 

 time in choral symphony. 



