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Bird -Lore 



It seems to me, also, that I always discover the first comer of each species 

 in ahnost the same place each year. The Thrasher is either seen scratching 

 about the footpath, leading to some dense shrubbery immediately back of 

 the house, or else, selecting a spot where the early morning sun strikes full 

 upon the bushes, this gallant yet coy minstrel spreads himself flat in the 

 warmth, like a bit of clothing spread to dry upon a hedge. His first sign of 



A GROUP OF SPRUCES ON A KNOLL ABOVE THE POOL . . . 

 HARBORED A NEST OF GREEN HEBRONS 



life is to comb out a dew-moist wing with an adroit action of beak and claw, 

 after the manner of a Mockingbird. Later on, he will take to the tall ash 

 opposite and sing, climbing upward as he increases in fervor until, when he 

 reaches the very top, with head thrown back and swelling throat, his ecstasy 

 floats into the sky itself. Often elusive as the Thrasher is, his favorite nesting- 

 haunt is within thirty feet of the back porch, where I have left unpruned for 



