other birds, is such a serious and 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