An unwonted note strikes our ears, a sort of “chack” or “chick,” and looking round we see that it proceeds from a flock of ten or a dozen birds flying on a straight course high in the air, with quick and regular wing-beats. At first sight they appear like Missel Thrushes, but their flight is less erratic, and their unmistakable note tells us that the last of our migrant Thrushes has arrived to spend the winter with us. Like the Redwing, the Fieldfare is emphatically a bird of the North, although, as he always nests in trees, he does not touch high latitudes, like the Redwing, being restrained in that direction by the limit of tree growth. In summer the woods of the far north form his home, and, as if he himself felt the solitude and intense stillness that reigns there, he breeds generally in small colonies of from ten to a dozen pairs. The nests are generally placed in the first fork of a birch tree, from 4 to 8 feet above the ground. The eggs closely resemble those of the Missel Thrush, but are rather smaller. The Fieldfare’s song is very feeble, and consists of an incoherent warble, varied with the “chack, chack” of his call-note. However he is not the only denizen of the woods that feels the need of companionship, as it will generally be found that a few pairs of Redwings have also nested near the colony, and their more melodious song is an added element of cheerfulness. Amid such surroundings the young Fieldfare is hatched, and is carefully tended by his parents, who supply him with worms, insects, beetles, and in fact any small living thing that they can capture. They are most bold and noisy in defence of their young, flying close round an intruder’s head, and uttering their alarm-note unceasingly. The young bird being duly fledged, leaves his nest, and in company with others of his own age wanders about the woods, feeding on insects or any fruit he can find; while his parents, to make the most of the short summer, busy themselves with the cares of a second brood. It is not until the first storms and snows of winter come that the Fieldfare leaves his summer home, though during the few weeks that have elapsed since he left the nest he may have wandered aimlessly far from his birthplace. The chill mists of autumn, however, remind him that he must move south, so reluctantly, as if clinging to the edge of winter, he finally takes flight, and we in England hear his “chack, chack” towards the end of October, his numbers being continually augmented as each fresh northerly blast drives some of his kind farther and farther south. While with us, as he is essentially a sociable bird, he attaches himself to wandering flocks of Missel Thrushes and Redwings, and among the former he may always be distinguished by his light-coloured rump, which shows up conspicuously against the darker wings and mantle. Thus he wanders the whole winter through, feeding chiefly on the hips and haws in the hedges, and