70 OUR SOUTHERN BIRDS 



His nest, like his erect carriage, shows that 

 he is not the Eedbreast of England, but a true 

 Thrush. It looks like a big, careless, dirty 

 Thrush's nest, being plastered with a cup-like 

 shell of mud, and often saddled on a bough in 

 the same way. But it is either less skillfully 

 made, or else Eobin has not so much discretion 

 and judgment in placing it as have his woodland 

 cousins; for a rainstorm is likely to crumble its 

 wall and mash it out of its moorings — a dis- 

 aster which I have never known to come upon a 

 Thrush. 



And Eobin has a wider range of nesting sites 

 to choose from, too; he may tuck his cradle into 

 the angle of a barn's eaves, or any odd nook 

 about the farm, for he is a friendly fellow, as 

 we all know. And however his hearty, happy- 

 go-lucky ways endear him to us, it seems a pity 

 he cannot exercise some of the usual Thrush wis- 

 dom in his architectural affairs. 



An old nest in my possession is made chiefly 

 of quantities of crab-grass and small twigs in a 

 bulky mass, woven outside with yards and yards 

 of string, and scraps of rag and paper. There is 

 the usual shell of hardened mud, lined with root- 

 lets. 



Four eggs of the famous blue are laid, and if 

 the nest proves safe and satisfactory, a second 

 brood may be reared in it. 



