THE TRUE THRUSHES. 
265 
winter season shows its first signs of passing away, the Thrush 
begins to sing, and very soon the pair of birds are busy with 
their nest, so that it is not uncommon to see young birds by 
the end of March or the beginning of April. Cold weather 
ensuing stills the bird’s song, and during a rainless spring it is 
to be heard less frequently, as the birds find sufficient employ- 
ment in seeking food for the young. 1 hey will quarter a 
lawn from end to end in search of worms, often the two 
parent birds in company, and it is amusing to see how one 
will copy the actions of the other. When one runs a few 
steps and halts, the other bird follows suit. After a little run, they 
wait with their head on one side, listening attentively, and then 
with a sudden bound they seize a worm and diag it out. 
The next process is to break the worm up, and when this is 
successfully accomplished the parent flies off to the nest to 
feed the youngsters. As soon as the latter can fly, they 
accompany the old birds and dog their footsteps, . till their 
pertinacity must be somewhat of a nuisance ; but it is a pretty 
smht to see an old Thrush teaching one of its progeny to pick 
up a worm for itself. Having drawn the unwilling prey from 
the grass and broken it up so that there is no fear of its 
crawling away, the old bird places it before the young one, 
and pecks at the worm to show the latter how to take it up 
for itself. It then taps the bill of the youngster and lays 
the worm again in front of it, till the little one begins to feed 
itself. 
Both male and female sit upon the eggs, but the chief share 
falls to the female, and often, when she comes off to feed, the 
male bird drives her back to the nest, as is done also both by 
Blackbirds and Starlings, especially by the latter bird. When 
the young are first hatched, both male and female are inde- 
fatigable in searching for food for them, and this business 
occupies so much of their time that the male has no leisuie to 
sing, until the evening, — unlike the Blackbird, who varies his 
marital duties by an occasional song, challenged thereto, 
maybe, by the notes of a rival cock-bird in a neighbouring 
wood or garden; but even then his beautiful mellow notes 
are spoiled by a sudden break off into a subdued cackle or a 
cat-like “ mew.” Not so with the Thrush. When he sings 
he means business, and a spring shower is enough to make 
