d
seldom lives long in confinement.

"Read what you have written about the size and color of this Thrasher,"
said the Doctor to Rap.

The Sage Thrasher

Length eight inches.

Upper parts gray, tinged with brown.

Under parts white shaded to buff, and spotted thickly on the breast with
very dark brown, almost black.

Two white bands on each wing, and white spots on the end of the tail.

A Summer Citizen of the western United States.

A Ground Gleaner, Tree Trapper, and Seed Sower. THE MOCKINGBIRD

"Mammy Bun knows about Mockingbirds," said Dodo. "She says the bushes
were full of them down in Louisiana where she was born, and that
sometimes they used to sit on the top of the cabins and sing so loud at
night, when the moon shone, that the children couldn't go to sleep, and
they had to throw sticks and things at them."

"Did the children throw sticks at the birds, or the birds pelt the
children?" laughed the Doctor--for poor Dodo was famous for mixing up
her sentences.

"No, no, Uncle Roy, neither; the children's _mothers_ threw the sticks
at the Mockers."

"What else did Mammy Bun tell you?"

"Lots and lots of things, and a song, too, that her people used to sing
about the Mockers, only I can't tell it as she does because you know she
has a sort of language all her own."

"Suppose we ask mammy to come and tell us about the Mockingbirds
herself," said Olive, "May we, father?"

"Certainly, if you can coax her."

The children followed Olive to the house and soon returned leading
mammy, who was chuckling and out of breath, but evidently very much
pleased to be asked. She could not be persuaded to try the apple-tree
perch, so they made her a sort of throne at the foot of the tree and sat
respectfully in a row in front of her. Mammy wore a dark-blue print
dress with white figures on it, but as she was one of the good old sort,
she had a plaid handkerchief tied turban fashion round her head. As she
talked she rolled her eyes and waved her hands a good deal, and her
words had a soft comfortable sound like molasses pouring out of a big
stone jug.

"Does I know de mockin'bird, I reck'n so--'bout de fust t'ing I did
know, 'cept how ter suck sugar-cane. Sugar-cane am good eatin' long in
de 'arly fall, but de Mocker ain't doin' much singin' dese yer times,
least not 'less he's in a cage in a good sunshiny place. He am a kind ob
a peart gray bird, darker in some places, lighter in oders, and clean as
a parson