nd engrossing matter. If it does not look like play with her,
it at least looks like leisure and quiet contemplation.
There is no nest-builder that suffers more from crows and squirrels
and other enemies than the wood-thrush. It builds as openly and
unsuspiciously as if it thought the whole world as honest as itself.
Its favorite place is the fork of a sapling, eight or ten feet from
the ground, where it falls an easy prey to every nest-robber that comes
prowling through the woods and groves. It is not a bird that skulks and
hides, like the cat-bird, the brown-thrasher, the chat, or the cheewink,
and its nest is not concealed with the same art as theirs. Our thrushes
are all frank, open-mannered birds; but the veery and the hermit build
upon the ground, where they at least escape the crows, owls, and jays,
and stand a better chance to be overlooked, by the red squirrel and
weasel also; while the robin seeks the protection of dwellings and
out-buildings. For years I have not known the nest of a wood-thrush
to succeed. During the season referred to I observed but two, both
apparently a second attempt, as the season was well advanced, and both
failures. In one case, the nest was placed in a branch that an apple
tree, standing near a dwelling, held out over the highway. The structure
was barely ten feet above the middle of the road, and would just escape
a passing load of hay. It was made conspicuous by the use of a large
fragment of newspaper in its foundation--an unsafe material to build
upon in most cases. Whatever else the press may guard, this particular
newspaper did not guard this nest from harm. It saw the egg and probably
the chick, but not the fledgeling. A murderous deed was committed
above the public highway, but whether in the open day or under cover
of darkness I have no means of knowing. The frisky red squirrel was
doubtless the culprit. The other nest was in a maple sapling, within
a few yards of the little rustic summer-house already referred to. The
first attempt of the season, I suspect, had failed in a more secluded
place under the hill; so the pair had come up nearer the house for
protection. The male sang in the trees near by for several days before
I chanced to see the nest. The very morning, I think, it was finished,
I saw a red squirrel exploring a tree but a few yards away; he probably
knew what the singing meant as well as I did. I did not see the inside
of the nest, for it was almost instantly de
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