1 66 FIELD AND FOREST. 



It was laughable to see him with closed eyes taking no notice of 

 anything, not even of the food in the feeding cup Hunger at last in- 

 duced him to taste some ripe fruit. He was removed from the sound 

 of the thrush's voice, but it was some time before he recovered his 

 former cheerfulness or attempted to sing. 



It might be questioned whether this apparent trouble was not caused 

 in part by over exertion. That vexation had a large part in it there 

 is not a doubt. 



Another case of similar character once came uuder the writer's notice 

 which confirms the opinion that it was in great part if not all chargin. 



A curious circumstance in connection with a pair of jungle thrush 

 brought to this country over twenty years ago, showing the affection 

 of these birds is worthy of note. 



The female bird in preparing to build her nest with some scraps 

 which were placed in the cage for that purpose was choked to death. 

 The male bird used every effort to save her life, but when he found 

 she was positively dead he expressed his grief by frantic actions. At 

 last he began singing in the softest and most plaintive tones and con- 

 tinued without pausing for fifteen hours. This bird died one year 

 ago, and judging him to have been only a few months old when 

 brought to this country, he lived to the good old age, for a bird, of 

 twenty years. 



Several instances have been known where our native birds have 

 attempted and succeeded in imitating the notes of others. Tradition 

 informs us that many years ago a remarkable case of bird mimicry 

 occurred in Maryland. A robin was repeatedly heard to crow like a 

 chicken. This excited so much astonishment that persons came from 

 the adjoining counties to see and hear this wonderful cackling or 

 crowing bird. This tradition, remarkable as it may appear, comes 

 from a source of such undoubted veracity that there is no reason for 

 doubting it. 



Our common Baltimore oriole is somewhat given to mimicry, as 

 well as to stealing infant caps, rather too elaborate and costly for a 

 bird's nest. 



The writer of this, when an infant, had a very handsome embroid- 

 ered cap, which a Baltimore bird fancied as just the very thing for 

 her nest. The cap suddenly disappeared and could nowhere be found. 

 Surely a spirit of the wind must have wafted it away. Search was 



