A BROWN THRASHER 
sis on the do/' which was delivered with a 
long downward inflection. Between these 
calls he voiced a protesting chuck ” in so 
gentle a tone that he only tempted me to 
stay and listen. Indeed, so exceedingly 
polite and gen- 
tlemanly was 
he that I at 
once decided 
this was a bird 
worth watch- 
ing, for at the 
eight other 
thrashers' nests 
in that same 
field I had been 
greeted with 
harsh squawks 
by both parents Thom-bush, the thrasher’s favorite nesting-place 
His nest was in the centre of a large 
thorn-bush that stood somewhat by itself 
in a lakeside meadow. It was a large, 
loosely made structure of twigs, yet lined 
with the greatest care with fine grasses 
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