Thrush and Snail. 167 
garden: he flies to it first, and gradually works his 
way along under cover till nearer the cultivated beds. 
Both blackbird and thrush are particularly fond of 
visiting a patch of cabbages in a shady, quiet corner: 
there are generally two or three there after the worms 
and caterpillars, and so forth. 
The thrushes build in the garden in several places, 
especially in an ivy-hidden arbour—a wooden frame 
completely covered with ivy and creeping flowers. 
Close by is a thick box-hedge, six feet high and nearly 
as much through, and behind this is a low-thatched 
tool-house, where spades, moletraps, scythes, reaping- 
hooks, and other implements are kept. Here lies a 
sarsen-stone, hard as iron, about a foot thick, the top 
of which chances to be smooth and level. This is the 
thrush’s favourite anvil. 
He searches about under the ivy, under which the 
snails hide in their shells in the heat of the day, and 
brings them forth into the light. The shell is too 
large for his beak to hold it pincer-fashion, but at the 
entrance—the snail’s doorway—he can thrust his bill 
in, and woe then to the miserable occupant! With 
a hop and flutter the thrush mounts the stone anvil, 
and there destroys his victim in workmanlike style. 
Up goes his head, lifting the snail high in the air, and 
then, smash! the shell comes down on the stone with 
all the force he can use. About two such blows break 
the shell, and he then coolly chips the fragments off as 
you might from an egg, and makes very few mouthfuls 
