A BROWN THRASHER 
ever expressive tail- — which, by the way, may 
have given him his name — would alone pro- 
claim him first cousin to the wrens. Of 
slender, graceful form and rich brown color- 
Nest of thrasher on the ground 
ing, he is the aristocrat of the bird world, 
exclusive, elegant. Yet full of moods is he. 
Inquisitive as a blue jay, jolly as a black- 
bird, passionate as an oriole, gentle as a 
thrush, sad as ' 2 i wood dove, who shall 
describe him or his song? He chooses the 
topmost bough of the tallest tree from which 
to enchant a listening world. “ Look at 
me ! Hear me sing ! Here am I, way up 
high. I can sing, 1 can sing. Go away, go 
away, bird robber, bird robber.” Or from 
a thicket you may hear him pour out 
IS 225 
