198 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 



LXIX. 

 WILSON'S THRUSH; VEEEY; TAWNY THRUSH. 



IN Northampton, I have heard the veery sing 

 in the orchard by the river, where the catbird, the 

 song sparrow, the yellow warbler, and the redstart 

 nested, and where the cuckoo, the rose - breasted 

 grosbeak, the yellow-throated vireo, and -flocks of 

 migrating warblers came to call. There it was 

 that the catbird tried to imitate the Wilson's 

 song. Perhaps the indignity drove the thrush on 

 to " Paradise " in any case, he made his home 

 there, choosing the most beautiful places to sing 

 in, and hopping about among the ferns over the 

 pine needles that matched the soft brown of his 

 coat. 



How well I remember spending one Sunday 

 afternoon in the pine grove, sitting where the 

 ground was strewn with glistening needles, and 

 leaning against a rugged pine trunk flecked by 

 the sunlight. And how when the symphony of 

 wind spirits softly touching their harp strings 

 in the tree tops had soothed every sense into rest 

 and peace, across the grove, from the trees on 

 the hillside and the bushes by the river in anti- 

 phonal chorus, rang out the low trilling chant of 

 the veeries. 



Here, at home, I know one Wilson's thrush 

 that sings in a locust-tree close to a house by the 



