IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 
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the wood to the left of me, and having plenty of time I deter¬ 
mined to discover the possessor of that exquisite song. Care¬ 
fully threading my way over the thick carpet of the last year’s 
leaves, I had proceeded about a hundred feet, when I perceived 
the most beautiful brown thrasher of my birdv career. HeAras 
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sitting on the topmost branch of a red haw, and his tail kept -r 
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twitching and wagging about as if to help him express his 
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emotions. As soon as he saw me, for I had unnecessarily ex¬ 
posed myself, he was off like a flash, and I knew that my chances 
for seeing him again that night were gone. About a we^, Later," 
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for it was now time for the thrasher to mate, I made a special 
trip to the woods to look for the nest which I thought must be 
there. I began by searching the low shrubs and bushes; being 
unsuccessful after two hours of hard work, and as it had grown 
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dark, I gave up my search for that night, but not without hope 
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of finding the thrasher’s abode. Once I caught a fleeting 
glimpse of the male as he darted through the trees, and I & , 
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. searched about for an hour, but with no success. Night afteif _ ? 
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night I continued the hunt, and at last, after a week ofLedioffs'f 
work, I discovered in a low briar bush a rather bulkv nest, "made 
