FAR AND NEAR 



old ornithologists the golden-crowned thrush, was 

 familiar to me, as it probably is to most country 

 boys, — a nest partly thrust under the dry leaves 

 upon the ground in the woods, and holding four or 

 five whitish eggs covered with reddish-brown spots. 

 The mother bird is in size less than the sparrow, 

 and in color is a hght oUve with a speckled breast, 

 and she is the prettiest walker to be seen in the 

 woods. 



The water-accentor or wagtail is a much rarer 

 bird, and of a darker olive green. As the color of the 

 oven-bird harmonizes with the dry leaves over which 

 it walks, so the color of the wagtail is in keeping with 

 the dark- veined brooks and forest pools along which 

 it flits and near which it nests. 



With me it is an April bird. When the spice-bush 

 is in bloom along the fringes of the creeks, and 

 the leaves of the adder' s-tongue or fawn lUy have 

 pierced the mould, I expect to hear the water-thrush. 

 Its song is abrupt, bright, and ringing. It contrasts 

 with its surroundings as does the flower of the blood- 

 root which you may have seen that day. 



It is the large-billed or Louisiana water-thrush of 

 which I am speaking. The other species, the New 

 York water-accentor, is rarer with me, and goes 

 farther into the mountains. 



The large-billed is a quick, shy, emphatic bird in 

 its manner. Some birds, such as the true thrushes, 

 impress one as being of a serene, contemplative dis- 

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