such things, remarked it wonderingly; and with one
accord we paused to listen to so rare a performer. It was not
different in quality so much as in quantity. Such a flood of it! Such
copiousness! Such long, trilling, accelerating preludes! Such sudden,
ecstatic overtures would have intoxicated the dullest ear. He was
really without a compeer,--a master artist. Twice afterward I was
conscious of having heard the same bird.

The wood thrush is the handsomest species of this family. In grace
and elegance of manner he has no equal. Such a gentle, high-bred air,
and such inimitable ease and composure in his flight and movement! He
is a poet in very word and deed. His carriage is music to the eye. His
performance of the commonest act, as catching a beetle, or picking a
worm from the mud, pleases like a stroke of wit or eloquence. Was he a
prince in the olden time, and do the regal grace and mien still adhere
to him in his transformation? What a finely proportioned form! How
plain, yet rich, his color,--the bright russet of his back, the clear
white of his breast, with the distinct heart-shaped spots! It may be
objected to Robin that he is noisy and demonstrative; he hurries away
or rises to a branch with an angry note, and flirts his wings in
ill-bred suspicion. The mavis, or red thrush, sneaks and skulks like a
culprit, hiding in the densest alders; the catbird is a coquette and a
flirt, as well as a sort of female Paul Pry; and the chewink shows his
inhospitality by espying your movements like a Japanese. The wood
thrush has none of theses underbred traits. He regards me
unsuspiciously, or avoids me with a noble reserve,--or, if I am quiet
and incurious, graciously hops toward me, as if to pay his respects,
or to make my acquaintance. I have passed under his nest within a few
feet of his mate and brood, when he sat near by on a branch eying me
sharply, but without opening his beak; but the moment I raised my hand
toward his defenseless household, his anger and indignation were
beautiful to behold.

What a noble pride he has! Late one October, after his mates and
companions had long since gone south, I noticed one for several
successive days in the dense part of this next-door wood, flitting
noiselessly about, very grave and silent, as if doing penance for some
violation of the code of honor. By many gentle, indirect approaches, I
perceived that part of his tail-feathers were undeveloped. The sylvan
prince could not thi