60 HOME LIFE OF THE REDSTART. 



that monsieur and madame do not dress alike in 

 the bird world any more than in the human. I 

 marked the points ; I consulted the books ; there 

 could be no doubt this was the little dame her- 

 self, and her mate had been too clever to come 

 to her aid. 



The structure on the apple bough was the red- 

 start homestead. Watch it every day I must, 

 yet not to disturb the fiery little owners it was 

 necessary to move further from them. I sought 

 and found a delightful nook, the other side of 

 the ravine. On its steep sides the native forest 

 still flourished, and seated at the foot of a tall 

 maple, tented in by a heavy low growth at my 

 back, I could look across the narrow chasm 

 through a gap in the trees, and see the redstart 

 nest in the pasture beyond. The restless j)air 

 did not notice me behind my veil of greenery, 

 and my glass was of the best; so I secured a 

 good view of the small mansion and the life that 

 went on about it, without in the least annoying 

 the builders thereof. I found the head of the 

 family very interesting in his role of husband 

 and father. 



Perhaps not every one knows a redstart, and 

 his name is misleading, for he has not a red 

 feather on his body. He is a bird of very few 

 inches, clothed in brilliant array of orange and 

 black and white, which always suggests the Bal- 



