ad" (contrary to our grandmothers'
teachings). When he made the usual attempt to fly through the window on
his first outing in the room, he went feet first against it, and thus
saved himself a bumped head. His movements were abrupt in the extreme,
and always so unexpected that he frequently threw the whole feathered
family into a panic, apparently without the least intention of doing so.
Standing beside the cage of another bird, he would wheel quickly and
face the other way, absolutely nothing more, but doing this in a manner
so startling that the occupant of the cage scolded roundly. He specially
delighted in clambering all over the cage of a goldfinch, acting as if
he should tear it in pieces, and greatly annoying the small bird. He
often flew up the side of the window casing, as though climbing it like
a ladder, his feet touching it now and then; and he did the same on the
curtains of coarse net. Again he flew across the room before the three
windows, turning to each one in turn, planted his feet squarely on the
linen shade, as on the wall above mentioned, and without a pause passed
to the end of the room, and touched it with his feet in the same strange
way. Often when standing for the moment perfectly still before a window,
he suddenly flew up, put both feet in this unbirdlike way against the
window-shade, turned and went to his cage. In like manner he came in
contact with a cage, the books on the shelves, the back of a chair, or
any piece of furniture, taking from that point a new direction. When
startled he instantly bounded into the air as though the ground were hot
under his feet, and often turned a corner or two before he came down. In
the middle of his most lovely song he was quite likely, without the
least warning, to make a mad dash somewhere, turn a sharp corner, dive
in another direction, and alight on the spot he had left a moment
before, and all in so spasmodic a way that every bird was
panic-stricken.

The thrasher was exceedingly wary, and nothing was droller than his
manner of approaching anything, whether a worm I had thrown on the
matting for him, or the bathing-dish. In the case of the worm, the
moment he saw his prey--which I selected for its liveliness--he came to
a nearer perch, and stood there a few minutes, posturing, shaking his
plumage in great excitement, looking at me and then at the tempting
object. Very soon he dropped to the floor and started towards the worm
in the funniest way; runni