Brown, Olive or Grayish Brown, and Brown and Gray Sparrowy Birds 



Brown Thrasher 



( Harporhynchus rufus) Thrasher and Mocking-bird family 



Called also: BROWN THRUSH; GROUND THRUSH; RED 

 THRUSH ; BROWN MOCKING-BIRD ; FRENCH MOCK- 

 ING-BIRD; MAVIS 



Length— \\ to 1 1.5 inches. Fully an inch longer than the robin. 



Male — Rusty red-brown or rufous above; darkest on wings, which 

 have two short whitish bands. Underneath white, heavily 

 streaked (except on throat) with dark-brown, arrow-shaped 

 spots. Tail very long. Yellow eyes. Bill long and curved 

 at tip. 



Female — Paler than male. 



Jiange — United States to Rockies. Nests from Gulf States to 

 Manitoba and Montreal. Winters south of Virginia. 



Migrations — Late April. October. Common summer resident. 



" There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in a tree; 

 He is singing to me ! He is singing to me ! 

 And what does he say, little girl, little boy ? 

 ' Oh, the world's running over with joy 1 ' " 



The hackneyed poem beginning with this stanza that de- 

 lighted our nursery days, has left in our minds a fairly correct 

 impression of the bird. He still proves to be one of the peren- 

 nially joyous singers, like a true cousin of the wrens, and when 

 we study him afield, he appears to give his whole attention to 

 his song with a self-consciousness that is rather amusing than 

 the reverse. "What musician wouldn't be conscious of his own 

 powers," he seems to challenge us, "if he possessed such a gift?" 

 Seated on a conspicuous perch, as if inviting attention to his per- 

 formance, with uplifted head and drooping tail he repeats the 

 one exultant, dashing air to which his repertoire is limited, with- 

 out waiting for an encore. Much practice has given the notes a 

 brilliancy of execution to be compared only with the mocking- 

 bird's ; but in spite of the name "ferruginous mocking-bird" 

 that Audubon gave him, he does not seem to have the faculty of 

 imitating other birds' songs. Thoreau says the Massachusetts 

 farmers, when planting their seed, always think they hear the 

 thrasher say, " Drop it, drop it — cover it up, cover it up— pull it 

 up, pull it up, pull it up." 



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