THE THJ1TTBH. 
weiglied — is of superior quality to tliat of tlie thrush. The 
former, however, is a melancholy bird, — a bird whose discourse 
makes you sigh rather than rejoice, a bird to be listened to by 
poets and swains and damsels crossed in love. Besides, I am 
by no means better pleased with the nightingale, that he sings 
when the owl flies, when nobody is about but the thief and the 
policeman, and when the world is shrouded in gloom and dark- 
ness. Of course, it is rank heresy to say a word against the 
king of songsters, but I fancy I could point to more than one 
bird, whom, if he had uninterrupted possessions of a glade, — 
if he were allowed to sing a song f amidst the solemn and 
impressive stillness that reigns in the woods at midnight, — 
would so acquit himself, that “ Philomel ” might quake for his 
throne. 
However, “ comparisons are odious.” There is plenty of 
room in the world for all the thrushes and nightingales that 
bless it, and for ten thousand more, should it please God to 
send them. Besides, they are not “ in the same line,” as say 
human singers and actors. The one is refined and romantic, 
the other is bluff, hearty, and rustic. As says a popular writer, 
“ There is a bold, natural, and free feeling of rustic vigour, 
endurance, and enjoyment about the thrush, which gives it a 
more true and hearty interest in all parts of the country than 
can be possessed by any mere bird of passage, whatever may 
be its charms while it stays. The thrush is especially one of 
the birds of plenty ; its blithe and varied song is never heard 
amid desolation, and if }~ou hear a thrush, you have not far to 
go before you come to a human dwelling.” 
The song-thrush is extremely fond of snails, which he will 
devour with great avidity. These he breaks with his beak 
against a stone, and then the snail is easily disentombed and 
devoured. In alluding to this habit of the thrush, a popular 
naturalist says 1 “ When a thrush has found a stone that 
suits the purpose particularly well, he brings all his snails to 
the spot, and leaves quite a large heap of empty snail- shells 
under the stone. One of the best examples that I have ever 
seen was a large square boulder stone, forming part of a rustic 
stile in Wiltshire. There was a large pile of shells imme- 
diately under the stone, and the ground was strewed for 
some distance with the crushed fragments that had evi- 
dently been trodden upon and carried away by the feet of 
the passengers.” 
The thrush’s nest is thus prettily described by Clare 
