of the United States of America. 61 



Wits.) laid her first egg in her third nest for the season. This 

 nest was constructed on the ground, in my garden, amid a 

 mass of cucumber vines. The next day another egg was laid, 

 and she began to sit. The following day she produced a 

 third egg. Incubation was continued, uninterruptedly, until 

 two or three days of her hatching, when I perceived that she 

 was absent from the garden. Three times in the course of the 

 day, which was a warm sunshiny one, I examined the nest, 

 but saw no bird. My last visit was at twilight. The next 

 morning, at an early hour, I was again at the nest, but no 

 bird appeared. Now, I do not mean to insinuate that the 

 sparrow had not been sitting upon her eggs during the night; 

 for I think it probable that she had been ; although I neglected 

 to ascertain whether the eggs were cold or not. After break- 

 fast I found the sparrow returned to her station. In the after- 

 noon of the 1 1th of August two of the eggs were hatched ; and 

 the third egg was hatched early the following day. The song 

 sparrow, in common with almost all our small birds, sits 

 twelve days. 



In the month of August, one of my domestic hens, after 

 having been sitting about two weeks, forsook her nest. I per- 

 ceived that she was afflicted with the louse disease ; and, on 

 examining her, I found her cold and dying. She had been 

 absent from the eggs for the principal part of the day ; and, 

 as they did not exhibit the least external signs of heat, I broke 

 one, and found the embryo extremely feeble, so much so, 

 that scarcely any signs of life were visible. The remainder 

 were removed to two sitting hens, and they all produced 

 healthy chicks. 



One of my neighbours told me that he had known a sit- 

 ting hen to be absent from her nest for a day and a night, and 

 still the eggs hatched. 



The opinion advanced by Wilson, and echoed by others, that 

 the cow bunting's egg is invariably the first hatched, is a mere 

 conjecture, totally unsupported by facts. It must now yield to 

 truth ; although the sentimental reader will, doubtless, re- 

 gret that the profound reflections on the " wisdom of nature," 

 which this hypothesis has given birth to, must lose much 

 of their efficacy or application. He will, however, derive 

 consolation from the assurance, that our venerable mother, 

 Nature, is not so improvident as she has been represented 

 to be. 



Mr. Audubon considers it " a very remarkable circum- 

 stance, that, although the cow bird is larger than the species 

 in the nests of which it deposits its eggs, the eggs themselves 



f 3 



