The Russet-backed Thrushes 
quite unprepared. Here the Sunset Lady shared bits from her table 
with her birds, and here she painted her soul into the sunsets, such sun¬ 
sets as made the breath of the beholder catch,—convincing, uplifting, 
emancipating sunsets. And here one day the gates of the sunset parted to 
admit their gentle votary. The bird-man heard and could not come; but 
months later he came to pay his homage; and lo! from the thicket beside 
the door came the voice of this thrush, tender, passionate, thrilling, and 
with such full, rich, organ-tones as he had never heard before. He stood 
with bared head, and as one entranced, for it seemed as if the soul of the 
Sunset Lady had found voice again,—a vocal sunset. Surely, not even 
she could have asked a fitter requiem. 
To analyze or revocalize the song of the Russet-backed Thrush is 
not exactly easy, either; so much depends upon the singer’s nearness or 
remoteness, and so much more upon the resonance of the surrounding 
NEST AND EGGS OF RUSSET-BACKED THRUSH IN SITU 
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