THE HERMIT THRUSH. I7

HERMIT 'I‘HRUSH. ( Tamil/5 Pal/(752')

Closely allied to the Robin is that delicate recluse, the sweet-voiced Hermit Thrush. It never comes about our houses and gardens, but keeps to the secret shadows of the wood-land. pouring out from its hidden retreat a song of the most exquisite delicacy and richness. It would be but little known or cared for but for the marvellous beauty of its plaintive melody, which would entitle it to be called the Nightingale of our groves. On a calm evening in June, when the leafy bowers hang silent in shadowed beauty, and the amber light steals softly through the arches, and the holy stillness of the sunset hour rests on nature, the Hermit’s song is loudest, clearest, and fullest. Then it fills the whole wooddand with pure, liquid notes, thrilling with emotion and delicate plaintiveness.

In singing, the bird chooses a lofty perch in some retired glade. It sits motionless on the hough, its speckled bosom swelled, its delicate bill parted, and its head raised to the clear field of

the sky as it pours out those strains that seem