AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 311 



uneasy about him on account of the presence of cats and Screech Owls in 

 the neighborhood. The next morning he was nowhere to be found, 

 and as he did not appear during the day, I concluded that his outdoor 

 adventure had cost him his life. 



Two or three 'weeks passed and Brownie was beginning to be a 

 memory, when, one day an acquaintance living fully a block away 

 invited me to visit him and see his pet bird, and tell him what its 

 species was. From his description of the bird and his manner of se- 

 curing him, I knew that his pet was Brownie. I went to call on him 

 and from a mark on the bird's lower mandible made sure of his iden- 

 tity. The following is the story my neighbor told me. 



One day he was sitting in his rear yard beneath a tree, when a brown 

 bird, with feathers sadly bedraggled, flew down upon his shoulder, 

 chirping and coaxing and' fluttering in a pitiful way. The man rose 

 and frightened the bird away, but the little wanderer saw an apple in 

 the man's hand and dashed down on the hand and began to peck greed- 

 ily at the apple. It was obvious that the poor bird was almost starved. 

 The gentleman and his family gave their little visitor food and drink, 

 of which he partook heartily, and then they placed a cage, with the 

 door open on the porch. The bird soon entered the cage, where he 

 seemed to feel that he had at last reached a place of safety. His 

 plumes were crumpled, his tail was almost gone, and there was a raw 

 place on his forehead, proving that he had passed through some dan- 

 gers during the few days that he had spent out-of-doors. If he could 

 recite the story of his adventures, it might prove an exciting tale. 



For many months he remained in my neighbor's possession, a beau- 

 tiful and cherished pet. It was not long before his feathers had grown 

 again and I have never seen a Brown Thrasher clad in so rich a garb, 

 almost as soft and smooth as velvet, its rich brown iridescent, while 

 the groundwork of his vest was a sheeny cream color, picturesquely 

 mottled and striped with brown. His golden eye was as bright and 

 intelligent as the eye of a person. 



He made rapid progress in his music lessons, and erelong the house 

 was ringing with his dithyrambs, the quality and form of his songs 

 being like those of the thrashers in their native wildwood. If given a 

 hard piece of toast or a cracker, he would first soak it in his water cup, 

 then eat it. By way of dessert he relished a fly or a spider, or an ant, 

 while his staple diet was prepared mocking-bird food, varied with a 

 good deal of fruit. 



No bird pet was ever more devotedly loved or better cared for, and 

 he seemed to reciprocate the affection lavished upon him. I am sorry 

 to be compelled to say that his end was tragical. In attempting to 



