THE LIFE OF BIRDS 155 
den doom? No, the lovely color of the eggs 
which his companion watches on that labori- 
ously builded staging of twigs shall vindicate 
this familiar companion from any suspicion of 
original sin. 
Indeed, it is well demonstrated by our Ameri- 
can odlogist, Dr. Brewer, that the eggs of the 
Catbird affiliate him with the Robin and the 
Wood Thrush, all three being widely separated 
in this respect from the Red Thrush. The Red 
Thrush builds on the ground, and has mottled 
eggs; while the whole household establish- 
ment of the Wood Thrush is scarcely distin- 
guishable from that of the Robin, and the Cat- 
bird differs chiefly in being more of a carpenter 
and less of a mason. 
The Rose-breasted Grosbeak, which Audubon 
places so high on his list of minstrels, comes 
annually to one region in this vicinity, but I 
am not sure of having heard it. The young 
Pine Grosbeaks come to our woods in winter, 
and have then but a subdued twitter. Every 
one knows the Bobolink ; and almost all recog- 
nize the Oriole, by sight at least, even if un- 
familiar with all the notes of his cheery and 
resounding song. The Red-eyed Flycatcher, 
heard even more constantly, is less generally 
identified by name; but his note sounds all 
day among the elms of our streets, and seems 
