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WHEN THE BIRDS NESTED 



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to them when I visit the old place and look for the nests and the 

 eggs that are not there. The hollow stumps and rails have van- 

 ished years and years ago and I cannot look for the pale eggs of 

 the blue-bird. Nor do I find the nests of the cat-bird or the che- 

 wink, and even the wren has left the premises. The day by day 

 "tab" on those few birds became a real part of my life, all the more 

 interesting to me, I fancy, because I knew so little about them 

 from books and had so few ways of finding out. My observations 

 must have been very imperfect; but how real were those birds 

 and how I loved to put down the dates' 



