1 62 B Y- WA YS AND BIRD-NO TES. 



a watery gurgle in its lower ones, that give to 

 its song, usually heard in low, heavily wooded, 

 dusky semi-swamps, a peculiar vibration alto- 

 gether indescribable. Its nest . is a curious 

 mixture of sticks, leaves, grasses, and rootlets, 

 usually set on or near the ground. Its eggs 

 are greenish blue. Of all the thrushes this 

 appears to me to be the shyest and wildest, 

 and while its voice lacks that flexibility and 

 compass possessed by those of the brown- 

 thrush and the cat-bird, it certainly has the 

 advantage at the point of timbre and of liquid- 

 ity. One can imagine nothing to compare 

 with some of its notes, unless it would be the 

 blending of the tones of a silver bell with the 

 bubbling of a brook over pebbles. Its song is 

 usually heard at a considerable distance, in 

 the twilight gloom of damp woods, and there 

 is a touching trace of melancholy in it that 

 makes it blend well with the environment. 

 Along the Wabash river, in the broad, wooded 

 " bottoms," I have heard it singing long after 

 sunset, and its voice is the first sound that 

 breaks the silence of the morning there. 



One who has loved the woods and fields and 

 has spent much time in the pursuit of knowl- 

 edge in the wild paths of nature, can look back 

 upon the days that are gone and see so many 

 bright visions — hear so many sweet sounds 

 and feel so many thrills through the nerves of 

 memory ! One can scarcely be called senti- 

 mental if one gushes a little over one's sweet 

 experiences. 



The next best thing to having cheerful and 

 healthful memories is the liberty of imparting 

 something of their effect to others , and I do 

 not envy the man whose heart does not some- 



