1 58 BY- IVA YS AND BIRD-NO TES. 



The nest of the brown-thrush is a straggling 

 mass of twigs, roots, bark, leaves, and weed- 

 stems, carelessly tumbled into a crotch near 

 the ground, or on the flat projection of a fence- 

 rail, sometimes even on the ground. Its eggs 

 are delicately pretty, whitish or pale green, 

 flecked thickly with brown, from four to six 

 in number. 



North of the Cumberland Range of Mount- 

 ains, the brown-thrush is migratory ; but in 

 parts of Tennessee and North Georgia I have 

 found it a permanent resident, especially in 

 the brushy valleys. It is a hardier bird than 

 the mocking-bird. 



The cat-bird (what a name !) is one of the 

 finest singers in the world — beautiful, too ; 

 but, for some mysterious reason, under a ban 

 of disgrace and contempt throughout its wide 

 habitat. You may know him by his dark 

 slate-colored coat and gray vest, his black cap 

 and chestnut-brown under tail-coverts, as well 

 as by his peculiar cat-like mew when irritated. 

 He is a lyrist of the dense thickets and brier 

 tangles, the musical deity of our blackberry 

 jungles and bois d'arc hedges. His song re- 

 sembles that of the brown-thrush, but it is 

 slenderer and keener, trickling through the 

 leaves in a tenuous stream with ripples as 

 light as air. 



The nest of this species is well constructed, 

 hung low, and its eggs are of a lovely deep 

 greenish blue. 



The cardinal-grosbeak is one of our Ameri- 

 can songsters, which, though much persecuted 

 by fanciers and imprisoned in cages, is not 

 justly appreciated. His- brilliant red plumage 

 and smart manners have been much better 



