1660 showing no sign of being aware of my presence, except when I purposely attracted his attention. He wanted no worms and no assistance, but worked on in single minded concentration at the rate of one or two twigs per minute. This is evidently now Nest 2--38 (besides nest something or other for preceding years). This also looks like his second "harmonic" of the season. The nest probably also accounts for Julio's not seeing him yesterday. He came up to the house for a mouse at 5:30 P.M. and carried it to the Scamells' to display it at the bright surfaces of an automobile there and then to his old house after 6 P.M. At 7:15 he was still there; so he has changed his mind again. Neo was not seen to feed the chicks again until about 4 P.M., and then only with worms furnished by me. He had been spending most of his time up in an oak apparently doing nothing. When he resumed feeding it was observed that he occasionally pecked a chick; once hard enough to make it squall. All three youngsters were within 25 feet of the nest and called only at rare intervals and showed little inclination to wander. When one was seen to go down to the ground and start to walk away Neo pecked it and turned it back. April 17th. (Sunrise 5:33, sunset 6:47). Thrasher affairs proceeded normally, all young birds being accounted for. Neo now realizes his obligations to his brood and does his part in feeding. Between times he is inclined to sit in a tree nearby and sing. It was a warmer day than we have been having recently (76° max) and once he was so thirsty that he jumped into the water dish and drank deeply while there, with his breast and belly partly immersed. He now levies heavy tribute on worm transactions and, I should say, eats at least half of those given him for the proof. Rhody's cerebral "vortex" seems to be on the whirl again. He was not to be found until, at 10 A.M., I heard him rattle-boo from the chimney top. Something off to the N.W. attracted his attention and he leaned far out gazing intently down into the valley below. He made a magnificent glide of about 200 yards to the lawn of the Morse home, perhaps 150 feet lower, and then disappeared and reappeared at intervals, apparently searching for something. In an hour and a half he entered the cage to watch the magpies, but soon came out, followed me to the tool-house, cried and was given a mouse, which he carried to the mirror with ceremony. But he abandoned it in less than ten minutes, went purposefully to the tree in which he built Nest No. 37 (not far from the cage) climbed up to the nest and began to repair it to the accompaniment of almost continuous whines. In ten minutes he came down, got a twig, looked up at the nest, turned away and ran off, put the twig down and trotted along the driveway north of the house, looking up into each tree as he passed it. In this way he eventually arrived at the foot of the tree containing Nest No. 37 by the south side of the living room bay widow. Here he gazed up at the nest, then reversed his course and climbed a tree by the north side of the same window. For about 15 minutes, crying all the while, he examined in detail every suitable location for a nest in that tree. This was carefully done. Each location was scrutinized above and below and on all sides, twigs here and there were pushed aside; some he attempted to pull off. At last he came down and I offered him the same mouse that he had previously abandoned (now dead) and he accepted it at once, according it full ritual as he carried it eventually, via the Scamalls' dining room window and front porch, to his old house in the west lot. When I arrived there he was sitting inside quietly with it in his bill,