THE BROWN THRASHER 
By T. GILBERT PEARSON 
The National Association of Audubon Societies 
Educational Leaflet No. 68 
Among the twelve hundred and more species and varieties of wild 
irds found in North America, a certain number are so well known that 
few persons have not made their acquaintance either by actual introduc- 
'jtion or by hearsay. The Robin, the Crow, the Jay, and the Eagle, for 
example, are household words, often familiar to children long before the 
little folk are large enough to go afield and observe the birds for them- 
selves. The writers of verse have done much to make some of our 
feathered friends known to us. In fact, poets have Birds 
depicted the charms of some birds in such living, and 
melodious verse that it is doubtful whether the fame Poets 
of these birds would ever fade from the memory of mankind, even 
should the species thus glorified pass for all time from our view. 
Many of us, when children, read certain pleasant lines upon the 
Brown Thrasher. The schoolbook called it “Brown Thrush,” and per- 
haps the name does quite as well. The poem to which I refer is truly a 
beautiful one, and should be memorized by every child who does not 
already know it, especially as it speaks the creed of the Audubon Society. 
There’s a merry Brown Thrush sitting up in the tree; 
He’s singing to me! he’s singing to me! 
And what does he say, little girl, little boy, 
“Oh, the world’s running over with joy! 
Don’t you hear? don’t you see? 
Hush ! look in my tree ! 
For I am as happy as happy can be.” 
And the Brown Thrush keeps singing, “A nest do you see? 
And five eggs hid by me in the juniper-tree? 
Don’t meddle, don’t touch, little girl, little boy. 
Or the world will lose some of its joy. 
Now I’m glad! now I’m free! 
And I always shall be. 
If you never bring sorrow to me.” 
The Brown Thrasher well deserves the fame which it has achieved 
as a vocalist, and fortunate is the man whose garden a pair of these birds 
choose for their abode. Its song is the most varied contribution to the 
bird-chorus heard at daybreak in the Northern States ; it is the Mocking- 
bird of the North — so much, indeed, does its song suggest the musical 
performances of that masterly vocalist that early American ornitholo- 
gists often called it the “Ferruginous Mockingbird.” 
The Thrasher, while singing, usually occupies the topmost bough 
of some bush or tree, and, although it sings mostly in the morning, occa- 
sionally it may be heard at any hour of the day. Its voice is loud, clear. 
