Hast thou named all the birds without a gun?
—O, be my friend and teach me to be thine.
Emerson.
[CHAPTER IV]
THE HERMIT-THRUSH
Thrush, thrush, have mercy on thy little bill;
I play to please myself, albeit ill;
And yet—though how it comes to pass I cannot tell—
My singing pleases all the world as well.
Montgomery.
Hermit that it is, this little thrush is known and loved in nearly all of North America. True, there are several of its relatives about in fields and woods, which are taken for the hermit by those who have not compared the different birds; the plain, deep olive-brown above, with dotted creamy vest, being a popular dress with the thrushes.
The hermit answers to several names, suiting the location in which it is found. In low parts of the South it is known as the swamp-robin. You meet it in the damp, shady places where it is always twilight, in the fascinating grounds of the snails and water-beetles.